No Juegues A La Tabla Ouija Historias De Terror - REDE

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She' s taken. My name
is Javier and what I will tell you

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today is a chapter in my life
which, despite the fact that I tried

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to forget, is impossible to do. I remember that night as if it

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had happened yesterday. Although years have
passed, the images and sensations remain as

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fresh in my mind as something recent. Back then I was just a ten

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- year- old boy, shy
and introverted with an older sister who seemed

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to live in a world completely different
from mine. That night of nightmare began

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with our grandfather’ s sudden illness, which led my mother to leave the

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house to take care of him in
the hospital. That' s how my

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sister and I were left alone at
home, a situation that would normally only

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have made me feel anxious became the
scariest experience of my life. My sister

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decided to take advantage of my mother' s absence to arrange a sleepover with

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her friends. For her it was
an exciting opportunity to have a night without

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adult supervision, but for me it
was a frightening prospect. I was always

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the kind of kid they listed as
sensitive, which is why I had no

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friends, which made the idea of
being alone with a group of older girls

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more than intimidating. My sister'
s friends started arriving around six o'

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clock in the afternoon, all radiant
with excitement from the prospect of a fun

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night without parents. My sister ordered
me to go to my room and not

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disturb them. I didn' t
want to stay alone in my room all

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night, so I just listened.
I omit my sister and stayed there.

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The last one to arrive was Laura, a girl of mysterious appearance, of

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Gothic style, which to my mind, always carried with it an unsettling energy.

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The girls murmured among themselves, exchanging
nervous glances and laughter as they talked

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about something that I did not understand
intrigued. I started asking questions, but

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I was completely ignored. My sister
looked at me and again ordered me to

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retire to my room, warning me
not to disturb them. My curiosity was

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too strong to be ignored. I
kept insisting on getting answers until finally my

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sister gave in, although with a
tone of contempt she told me they would

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play the run That night. My
eyes were wide open before that revelation.

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While my mind was beginning to see
images of horror movies that I had seen

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before, I knew that the daughter
was more than just a game, which

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was surrounded by chilling stories and legends. After telling me that, the girls

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noticed my fear and began to laugh
questioning me if I really believed in ghosts,

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so, trying to look tough and
brave, I told them that I

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didn' t believe in ghosts and
that I had even played with the daughter

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many times with my friends. At
that time I thought I was cheating on

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everyone, but now, with an
adult' s perspective, I realize I

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wasn' t cheating on anyone but
myself. The girls, listening to my

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statement, decided that if I had
played before, then I could be there

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with them, although I did not
want to participate in the game of the

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huija. I felt trapped by my
own words and I couldn' t back

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down. While the girls prepared everything, from incense candles and even a bell

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like the ones I had seen in
spiritist sessions on television. My fear increased

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with every minute that passed. I
tried to think of an excuse to go

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to my room, even pray that
my sister would send me back to my

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room. None of that happened.
When everything was ready, Laura pulled a

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board out of her backpack. Wood
daughter looked like it was handmade. Laura

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claimed that the board belonged to her
grandfather, who was a Satanist and claimed

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to speak to the dead. Thanks
to her, with a chill, touring

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my back, I sat with the
others around the table. My sister lit

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the candles and turned off the light, allowing only the blinking candlelight to illuminate

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the room. The session began with
trembling fingers. I placed my hands on

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the daughter board along with the other
girls. A feeling of static electricity seemed

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to fill the room while we waited
quietly. The atmosphere was loaded with tension.

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Every move of the board or daughter
was followed with attention. The questions

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were asked one after the other and
the answers we received were meaningless. To

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tell you the truth, still.
Fear gripped me. As the girls continued

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to ask questions about the supposed spirit
we had invoked, each response seemed more

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disturbing than the previous one, and
my heart was pounding in my chest as

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I struggled to contain the panic that
threatened to consume me I thought we had

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finally reached the end of our supernatural
activities. But then one of my sister

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' s friends, named Hannah,
suggested that that was boring and that it

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would be best to summon a specific
spirit, mentioning someone named Don José.

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Once again, I felt completely lost
and confused, having no idea who that

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Don José I was talking about.
As the girls began to laugh and agree

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with the idea of contacting this spirit. Hannah noticed my confusion and decided to

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tell me the story of Don José. According to her, this man had

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lived many years ago and was the
owner of much of the neighborhood we were

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now in. In those days,
the area was nothing more than a green

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field where cows and sheep were grazing. Don José was known for being extremely

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stingy and angry, and no one
wanted to approach him. He did not

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hire anyone to help him take care
of his animals, which he often mistreated

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and beat by starving them for days. One day, while feeding his pigs,

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Don José slipped and could not get
up because of his advanced age.

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Hungry pigs began to eat it and
no one could hear its cries for help.

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When finally someone decided to go and
see what had happened, they found

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his middle body, devoured and disfigured. The scariest thing was his face,

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which had been shattered to make him
unrecognizable. Don José' s death had

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been appalling and it was said that
he could still see himself walking through the

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neighborhood, seeking to replenish the parts
of his body that had been torn from

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him. Don José' s story
left me completely terrified. I wished I

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could go to my room at the
same time, but I knew I had

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no valid excuse to leave, so
I was forced to stay there. As

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they were preparing to invoke Don José, I felt a knot in my stomach

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and a cold cold ran through my
spine. My hands were shaking as I

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waited for the beginning of the next
session, praying in my mind that it

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would all end soon and I could
escape that living nightmare. The candlelight blinked

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at them as the girls began their
invocation. Every word resounded in the room

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filled with dark and sinister energy that
made me tremble with fear. I closed

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my eyes hard, wishing to be
anywhere but there, facing the horror that

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was coming. Suddenly, the candles
went out by submerging the room in complete

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darkness. My eyes were wide open
in the face of that sudden change and

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just then, the lights of the
spotlight began to turn on and off intermittently,

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casting shadows all over the room.
The girls began to be frightened,

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exchanging nervous looks among themselves. It
was then that Laura, with a trembling

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voice, said aloud that if Don
José was in that room, he should

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give a signal. At that time, three oras of heavy blows were heard

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from inside a small room, which
served as a cellar. The blows resonated

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in the room increasingly strong and persistent, causing a terror that swept my body

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from head to toe. Another of
my sister' s friends got up with

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determination and approached the cellar door.
I looked at her with my eyes disorbited,

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feeling a mixture of terror and curiosity
that threatened to overwhelm me. When

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he finally opened the door, a
figure emerged from the shadows screaming in a

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frightful way. The figure wore a
white mask that hid his face and ran

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directly to where I was sitting,
screaming and waving my arms frantically. A

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scream escaped my lips as I receded
over my eyes with my hands in a

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desperate attempt to protect me. But
when I finally gathered the courage to look,

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I saw that all the girls were
laughing with laughter and the figure with

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the mask was actually another of my
sister' s friends, who had hidden

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in the cellar when she had gone
to the bathroom. The relief and shame

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mingled within me as I tried to
understand what the fear had just happened.

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It barely allowed me to understand the
situation and soon I found myself crying overwhelmed

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by the emotions and experiences of that
night. To calm my nerves, one

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of my sister' s friends proposed
to paint my nails and I accepted with

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gratitude for any distraction that might help
me forget the terrifying joke that had just

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happened. The night continued with relative
normality after that, and I finally went

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to my room to try to sleep
at once. Just a couple of hours

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later I woke up abruptly because of
a nightmare related to Don José' s

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story. I tried to go back
to sleep, but the persistent memory of

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history kept me awake, tormenting myself
with every thought I decided to get up

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and go to the bathroom to try
to calm myself down. As I washed

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my hands and a strange movement in
the mirror reflection caught my attention. I

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looked up to see a creepy figure
standing in the bathtub. He was a

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man, the man with his clothes
torn and stained with old blood. She

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had a disfigured face without lips or
nose almost looked human. A chill ran

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through my back as I watched it
with horror. Before I could react,

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the light suddenly went out, plunged
me into darkness. Once again, as

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fear gripped me and my screams resounded
in the house, drawing the attention of

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my sister and her friends. The
sound of hasty steps resonated in the hallway

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and soon my sister and her friends
ran into the bathroom with expressions of concern

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and confusion on their faces. They
tried to reassure me by asking me what

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had happened, but my words were
cut short by fear. Finally, I

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managed to articulate what I had seen
in the bathtub, describing the disfigured and

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bloody figure that seemed to have appeared
out of nowhere. The girls exchanged nervous

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glances among themselves, trying to find
a logical explanation for what had just happened,

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trying to calm the situation they had
generated. My sister tried to minimize

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the situation, claiming that everything was
simply childish fears and that we should not

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worry too much. The other girls
seemed to believe in that comforting explanation,

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but in the depths of my being
I knew it was not so. With

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the refusal to stay alone in my
room, my sister agreed to have me

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stay in her room, where all
the other girls were also in. Once

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there I tried to fall asleep,
but the memory of the disfigured figure in

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the mirror kept tormenting me, preventing
me from finding peace. While listening to

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the girls speak softly. I tried
to block the disturbing thoughts that invaded my

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mind, but suddenly, a loud
sound put us all on alert. They

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were heavy knocks on the door of
the room. The sound resounded through the

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room, shaking the air with an
intensity that made no sense. It was

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almost midnight and there was no reason
for anyone to be knocking on doors so

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hard at that time, much less
the door in a room. Fear took

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hold of us. While we were
looking at each other nervously wondering who or

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what might be knocking on the door, my hands were shaking as I got

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out of bed, feeling a wave
of panic going through my body. We

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all approached the door with caution,
without daring to open, but the blows

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continued to be more and more persistent
and threatening. Finally, my sister took

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the initiative and opened the door,
but what we found on the other side

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left us breathless and frozen with terror. There was no one there, only

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the darkness of the hallway and the
deaf echo of our own heartbeats beating hard

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in my chest and they all seemed
as frightened as I did, some even

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more, we were all silent,
trying to comfort each other with our presence.

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The sense of security we were trying
to build quickly faded away when an

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atmosphere of oppression and discomfort began to
fill the room, as if something was

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lurking in the shadows, waiting for
its time to make its appearance. Our

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hearts, you pull it hard on
our breasts, as we looked with horror

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like a haze took shape by adopting
the figure of a tall and gloomy man.

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The sinister whispers filled the air,
accompanied by the chilling sound, of

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what seemed to be chains crawling down
the ground with their eyes full of terror.

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We cling to each other, unable
to turn our gaze away from the

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creepy appearance that was made present in
the room. We saw his face,

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a disfigured and grotesque face, with
empty eyes that seemed to pierce our souls

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with his lifeless gaze. For me
there was no doubt. It was Don

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José, the spirit whose story he
had heard that very night, a cry

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of terror appeared before us and escaped
from our lips. As we retreated desperately

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wishing to escape from the evil presence
around us, but it seemed to be.

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We' re trapped in a nightmare
world. Suddenly that figure vanished and

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for a moment, we all thought
that it would be everything, but the

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worst was just about to happen.
The lights began to blink erratically, throwing

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ghostly flashes all over the room.
The furniture began to move alone, sliding

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down the floor with a chilling squeak. The objects flew through the air as

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if they had their own life,
breaking against the walls with a deafening roar,

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and then something happened that left us
paralyzed. Don José' s ghost

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figure materialized before us once again,
this time more solid and tangible than before.

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His empty eyes shone with a sinister
malice, as he watched us with

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a twisted smile on his disfigured face
without a word, he stretched out a

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bony hand toward us, as his
if inviting us to join him. A

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choked cry escaped our lips. As
we retreated, we were unable to turn

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our gaze away from the horrible vision
before us. Just when it looked like

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we were on the edge of the
abyss. The figure of the ghost began

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to fade slowly, dissipating in the
darkness. That left us trembling and bewildered

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by the intensity of the supernatural experience
we had just witnessed and gathering sufficient courage,

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clinging to one another and heading towards
the front door, determined to leave

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the house as quickly as possible.
No one had the courage to go back

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into the house. Once we walked
out the door, all my sister'

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s friends rushed back to their homes. Some of them offered us a place

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to spend the night. My sister
rejected each of those proposals because my mother

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would arrive in the morning. Time
spent leaving me alone with my sister in

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front of the house, in which
we had lived a night of unimaginable terror.

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We stood silently in front of the
house for the rest of that night,

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feeling the weight of what we had
witnessed. There was no need to

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say anything. We both knew we' d never be the same again.

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After that terrifying experience, when the
first rays of the sun began to illuminate,

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we finally found the courage to enter
the house again. Every step we

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took was full of fear but we
knew we had to face our fears.

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After all, our mother would arrive
in a few hours and neither one of

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us had a good explanation for the
events that occurred that night. Once inside,

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my sister remembered that the daughter board
was still in her room. It

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was clear that neither of us wanted
to know anything about that cursed board.

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We didn' t have much choice. After researching how to properly dispose of

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objects linked to the supernatural, my
sister assured me that burning it was the

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recommended method and apparently worked, as
we never experienced anything supernatural again in our

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home. Despite getting rid of that
board and the passing of the years,

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we could never completely shake the feeling
that someone was watching us from the shadows.

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During the time we lived in that
house there was always a feeling of

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restlessness in the air, as if
Don José' s ghost was still roaming

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the halls waiting for his next chance
to torment us once again. A story

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written and adapted by Aurora. Escalante