Los Muertos Me Hablan En La Morgue Historias De Terror - REDE

0:04 Bodies that speak. I worked in a morgue, in a big hospital. I remember a few months ago, something strange started to happen there the bodies that were on the metal stretchers. Suddenly they started talking to me. Dead people who shouldn' t be able to talk anymore started telling me things. At first I thought I was going crazy that my mind was playing tricks on me because of work fatigue or something. I tell you, my job is to prepare the bodies for examination or to be given the last farewell. I put their bodies in the living room clean and make them look as presentable as possible for when families come to say goodbye. I also help with autopsies when it' s necessary to know the cause of death. In my day to day, the atmosphere is quite dark and quiet, apart from the occasional noise of the equipment and the cold buzz of the refrigerators, where we keep the bodies to preserve them. But for a few months now the silence began to break with voices, voices coming from the lifeless bodies in front of me.

1:18 At first they were murmurs, things I could hardly understand. Then the voices became clearer. The things you tell me aren' t nice. They are not happy memories of your life or messages to your loved ones. Rather they are dark secret confessions that they never dared to tell when they were alive, thoughts that tormented them in their last moments. These revelations made me uncomfortable. He was quite happy to be an assistant who didn' t have to do much mental effort, someone who simply took care of moving bodies from one side to the other and keeping everything in order. I liked the routine and predictability of work at the Morgue, where the calm atmosphere and constant rhythm were just what I needed. That' s how I started in this field of work, in a job that seemed to fit perfectly with my personality and my needs.

2:21 But that was just the beginning of my career at the morgue. From there, things took an unexpected turn and became much more complicated than I would ever have imagined. I had been working with bodies for three years when one day my boss offered to change to the night shift. I thought about it a little bit. The pay was a little better, a few more dollars a night. Besides, I' ve always been someone who prefers the night. I feel more active when the sun sets, so in the end I said yes, at that time I had no fear or special concerns than that someone could imagine me thinking of working alone in the middle of the night surrounded by corpses. To me, dead bodies were that and nothing else. At least that' s what I thought back then how wrong I was. If I could come back in time, I' d stop myself before accepting that offer. So I started my new schedule and the first nights were, like any other, in a morgue located in the basement of a large hospital.

3:30 Everything seemed normal. As long as it fits. The morgue has always been a place of contrasts where bodies are seen in all the imaginable conditions, accidents, old diseases that simply fell asleep to not wake up anymore. The variety was large and each body told a different story of how it ended there. Nights at the morgue began quietly. I was checking that all the bodies were in place, that the labels matched, and that the refrigerators were working properly. Then I sat down to read or listen to music while doing regular rounds to make sure everything was in order. It was a lonely job, but I was used to loneliness and I liked the stillness of those hours. However, over time, that tranquility that I liked so much, began to be interrupted by small whispers that I knew were coming out of the corpses. It was one night, like any other, in the hospital morgue, located in a gloomy, silent basement, we had received the bodies of an elderly man and woman. They had no visible wounds and nothing in them suggested a violent death, so I assumed that old age had been the cause of their death.

4:58 He had just moved the man from the ca stretcher to the metal slab, where we usually performed the procedures and was busy filling in the relevant documentation to register his entry. While I was dealing with these details, the cold, static air of the amorgue. He was interrupted by a voice. It was a snoring and dry voice, as if coming from another world, a voice that would not wait for its hearing in such a place, uttered a word that made me stop for a moment. Killed. At that moment, I felt no fear, only confusion. I thought maybe my mind was messing with me because of the atmosphere and the time. My companion David, who was also there that night, did not seem to have heard anything or to be involved in what I had heard. He continued his work as if nothing had happened. Soon he told me he needed to go to the bathroom and left me alone with the two bodies. David' s footsteps resounded in the hallway until they were completely lost. He left me alone in that icy and silent space, the shadows moved a little by the flickering of the lights felt something strange, as if the air had been charged with a tension that I could not explain. It wasn' t fear, it was more like an anticipation or like when you know something' s about to happen, but you don' t know what it is. My eyes fell on the body right

6:30 in front of me I was an old man with pale, cold skin, closed eyes and marked wrinkles. Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by a deaf creak, as if something or someone was moving. The sound of the wheels of an old stretcher broke the calm squeaking softly on the ground. My heart began to beat faster and without realizing it, I held my breath It was then, when I heard it a snoring voice almost like a whisper, but clear and chilling killed, The sound seemed to float in the air, collapsing in my ears and coming down my spine. The voice came from behind the body that I had forgotten was there. I turned slowly almost without wanting to see what was waiting for me. Terror invaded me when I saw how unimaginable the woman lying on the other stretcher, who should have been as dead as anyone else there was sitting. His eyes were still closed, but his face showed a stiff and grotesque smile. He could see the signs of decomposition beginning to appear with the skin turning purple, his hair gray and careless. It looked like a shelter for rats, all tangled up by the sudden transfer to this place. As he watched his mouth he began to slowly open his mouth.

8:01 The stained teeth became visible between dry and cracked lips. The voice sounded again emanating from her rotting throat, but it was not a normal voice. It was like someone else was talking through his body, like a ventriloquist who used a dead man to perform his macabre show. The woman' s mouth did not move, only remained open, as that creepy voice repeated the same word over and over again killed I said my knees began to tremble as if all the weight of my body suddenly turned too much for them. I felt the sweat begin to form on my forehead small drops that come together and slip down my face. I didn' t know what to do or where to look I kept wondering where David would be in a corner of my mind I kept that little hope that all this was a joke, although deep down I knew that jokes in a place like this aren' t the most common thing.

9:05 Suddenly, a cold, wet hand grabbed my shoulder that feeling of dead skin against mine. I smelled my blood. I didn' t need to turn around, I knew who I was. Although inside I begged to be wrong. I didn' t hear any movement, no whispering of clothes, no gnashing of bones. It' s only by cold and safe hand. Then that voice whispered directly into my ear someone' s whisper is usually warm feeling the breath, but this was different. It was like listening to the echo of a cold void, a whisper without life. The dead man said only two words, but in them there was a weight that crushed my soul.

9:50 Our son said I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block that reality, wishing that opening it all would have been a nightmare. But not when I opened them everything was the same. The same room lit by lights that buzzed the same corpse that now had its mouth open. A grotesque sound broke the silence as if something very wet and heavy were forcing through too narrow a space. That' s when I saw the dead woman opening her eyes. They were two lifeless white spheres, fixed on me, piercing every defense my mind tried to put with an effort that seemed superhuman, she moved her stiff, heavy legs to one side of the stretcher trying to stand. That' s what finally broke me. I couldn' t be there another second.

10:50 I ran out of the morgue pushing the doors that oscillated with every blow of my despair, ran down the hall and almost stumbled upon David, who looked bewildered and had two cups of coffee. I didn' t stop to explain I couldn' t, I just needed to get out of there. I got to my car, started the engine and drove as fast as I could. The streets were dark and lonely and my mind was in a whirlwind of fear and confusion. Every red light was a torture. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the image of that broken mouth and those lifeless eyes. Looking at me the words of the dead bodies killed and our son repeated himself over and over again in my head. I didn' t need to be a detective to understand what they were implying, but at that point the only thing that really mattered to me was if I was losing my mind before I could figure it out. I was already stopping the car I had panicked and now, when my mind cleared up a little bit, I found myself watching the surroundings. I was in a lonely street, I was in some suburb that didn' t recognize the sky in the distance. It was beginning to clear up a little bit, it was beginning to dawn, but it was still dark enough. I looked at the house in front of me.

12:13 It was a simple house, rancher type, with a dim and orange light shining through the front window. The words Matado and our son resonated in my head something inside me told me that that house was related to all this, although I didn' t know how. I felt strangely drawn to it as if an invisible force pushed me. I turned off the engine and almost without thinking I got out of the car. I walked to the door with silent steps. I got to the oak door and knocked three times. My whole being screamed that I should go back to the car, but I was already here and the night had only gone from bad to worse. The door opened slowly. Behind the door appeared a tired- looking man, probably in his forties his holes reflected tiredness. He frowned with a look of deep suspicion and concern. The appearance of his face gave the impression that he had not slept in days, which was not surprising. Considering the time, it was evident that something kept him awake, something probably related to the fact that his parents had been killed. That was the only explanation that my mind, still, trying to connect the dots, could offer at that time, neither of us seemed to be thinking clearly. Opening the door to a stranger at 4:

13:46 30 a m wasn' t exactly the wise thing to do, but there we were face to face sharing eyes at that moment. As our gazes stood, images began to appear in my mind as if a film were unfolding. These intense and lively visions began to reveal facts that my conscience had not yet fully processed. It was as if the mystery I had been chasing all night began to unravel right in front of my eyes. Everything became a series of vivid and terrifying images that I couldn' t help but see. There were the two elders, the same ones who were now lying in the morgue under my care, but in this vision they were alive, although weak and fragile.

14:39 In his bed it was noticed that they were completely dependent on the man in front of their own son for almost everything in their day to day, the scene was quiet, almost normal, until it was not. I watched the man in front of me. In my vision I could see frustration accumulating on his face a mixture of tiredness and resentment that reflected on his tired eyes. Then, without warning, his actions changed drastically. I saw him take a pillow and with a decision that seemed to have been made a long time ago, he pressed it firmly on his mother' s face. The anguish and surprise did not last long in her. Soon his body stopped fighting and remained motionless. After making sure that his mother was no longer breathing, the man slowly walked to the other side of the bed, where his father was probably conscious, but too weak to intervene. He repeated the act with a coldness that would freeze my blood, put the pillow on his father' s face and applied pressure until he too stopped moving. The vision was clear and heartbreaking. As the scene unfolded before me, man' s expression changed from suspicion to confusion. He didn' t seem to understand why I stared at him with my pale face and eyes, probably reflecting the horror I felt inside.

16:14 Our gazes were still intertwined and although we were only physically facing each other, I was seeing much more. It was as if I could see through him straight into the past that maybe I wanted to forget watching the man in front of me trying to reconcile the image of the caring son with that of the murderer of his own parents. I felt a heaviness in my chest. After that moment, so weird and terrifying in the house, I managed to gather some strength and ran towards my car. I climbed up and started as fast as I could. My only goal was to go home, get away from everything I had lived that night while driving my mind was not stopping.

16:57 On the one hand, I wanted to forget everything I had seen and pretend it was just a bad dream, but on the other hand, part of me needed to understand exactly what had happened, why it had happened. When he got home, he was completely exhausted. It was a huge relief to enter my door and leave the outside world behind. I went straight to my room and fell into bed. It didn' t take me a minute to close my eyes and plunge into a deep sleep, one of those dreams where you don' t dream anything, just darkness and silence. When I woke up it was the sound of my phone that got me out of sleep.

17:41 There were lots of messages and missed calls. They were David' s and my boss' s, all worried about how I' d gone. After I ran out of work, I didn' t know exactly what to tell them, so I made up a quick story. I told them I had felt bad because something I ate was food poisoning and that was why I had come out so suddenly, although inside me what I really wanted was to stay home that night. I even thought about quitting my job, but something inside of me. He wouldn' t let me do it, so, against all odds, I assured them that I would be fine and that I would go to work on my night shift. Without fail. I thanked you for worrying about me. I got to the hospital last night and I felt something had changed. The atmosphere was different. There was like a weight in the air, a kind of tension that seemed to cover the whole place. I didn' t want to give it much importance. I tried to focus on my work. However, I noticed that David watched me every time I passed by. Even if I didn' t look directly at him, I could feel his eyes on me like I was trying to read my thoughts. Or worried about how I was behaving after what happened that night at the morgue.

19:06 Despite the apparent normality of the first hours, an unexplained tension continued to weigh in the air. We had been busy, as usual, filling out papers and handling routine procedures with the bodies we were supposed to prepare and move to the basement. But under that routine, the feeling that something else was about to happen never left me. I was in the middle of cleaning up some of the tools we use daily, making sure everything was in order. When I heard it again, the same snoring and deep voice that had haunted me the night before became present once again in the morgue. The word killed resounded clearly in the cold and silent space. This time my reaction was different.

19:53 I didn' t jump or look where I came from in despair. Instead, I decided not to act as if nothing had gone from anger. I watched David see if he had heard anything, but his expression did not change. He showed no signs of having listened to the voice, which calmed me momentarily. Although I wasn' t sure of the source of the voice at the time it didn' t take me much to figure out where I should look. The Morgue has a large wall of stainless steel cabinets where we store the bodies. It was there that my attention was directed. Convinced that the voice came from some part of that cold metal structure, I felt a strange attraction to a specific cabinet. I remembered opening it a few days ago to record a particularly tragic case. He was a young man of a similar age to mine, whose face had been disfigured horribly broken almost in half. The report indicated that it had been a work accident, but in my mind something did not fit. I decided to call David, trying to sound as natural as possible, and I mentioned that I' d check the body to see if the label was okay. David simply nodded without saying a word, giving me the approval to proceed with David' s authorization, I turned to the

21:26 specific cabinet that had caught my attention. When I opened it, the view I found was desolate and completely unexpected. The dark and disorbited eyes of the man stared at me. They were completely open, which surprised me deeply because when I put his body there I know for sure that his eyes were closed. The state he was in was appalling. The man had suffered a fatal accident while repairing a nicknamer had fallen in a way his Su his pr impacted directly on the exposed blades of the machine. The result was a grotesque wound that divided his mouth so that it seemed almost separate from the rest of his face. In addition, it had deep red cuts stretching from its neck to its cheeks. Passing under those eyes that now looked at me with an expression of pure terror, I observed his face disfigured carefully. Suddenly, his jaw began to shake violently. The two hanging parts of his face opened up even more revealing his broken teeth and the remains of his tongue with a superhuman effort.

22:41 The lifeless body murmured a dead word. His voice was so weak and distorted that I could barely grasp what he was saying. I looked him right in the eye and nodded in recognition of his words. Pushed with difficulty added my boss. Unlike the night before, this revelation didn' t make me run or panic. I simply closed the drawer slowly, sealing back his rest and continued my work as if nothing had happened. The hours went on and I finished my shift. I got out of the hospital and got into my car with only one destination in Mind, I wasn' t completely sure where I was going, but something inside of me was driving me. I drove for a while until I arrived in front of another normal looking house, in a neighborhood I didn' t recognize. I didn' t know how I should be there, but something inside of me told me that the man who resided in that house had committed a terrible act. I felt an urgent need to confront this new reality, to face someone who had caused so much harm.

23:56 Maybe it was justice or maybe curiosity that drove me, but I knew there was something important I needed to discover inside that house. Without hesitation I approached the nearest window of the house and with a quick and firm blow of my elbow, I broke the glass the sound of the glass. Breaking up, it rumbled in the dark, but I didn' t stop to think about the consequences. I entered the house through the broken window, shaking the glass fragments of my arms and clothes. As I entered the room, I saw a middle- aged man sleeping in a reclining armchair, holding a half - empty beer can in one hand. It was at that time that I had another vision that further clarified the situation. In the vision, the man was standing behind the young worker at the construction site. His expression was distorted by a grimace of rage. As I watched the young man repair the pruning machine, I saw the young man activate the blades of the machine, drying his forehead sweat with a gesture of satisfaction when he saw that the pruning machine was working again. But then the man violently pushed the young man face to the rotating blades. A squirt of blood splashed the air, staining both the team and the boss red. For a brief moment I wondered why I would

25:26 have done something like that, but almost immediately I dismissed the question. Sometimes people just commit horrible acts. That is a harsh and cruel reality. Acting decisively, I walked toward the man still asleep and snatched the beer can out of his hand before he could react or even wake up. I totally smashed the can into his head. The man jumped surprised, already sore, almost falling off the couch. The man as a bit who wanted to beat me up, but then I told him that I knew exactly what I had done. I began to describe everything I had seen in my head and told the man that I was working in the morgue, where the body of the person he had killed was and that his victim was sending him greetings. The man was shocked after listening to me could not articulate any words already with my work done I left the house and from that time on it took me some time to give a message to certain people who have killed people, I don' t do it when the body that asks me to do it has a bullet impact, because that means that if I upset the culprit, because I could also get shot. But if the body that speaks to me did not have a violent death, I decide to do you the favor of going with your

26:59 perpetrator and telling him that his victim greets you since death. Tale written and adapted by Ramire