Nunca Trabajaré En Una Morgue Historias De Terror - REDE

0:05 The dead in the morgue. My name is Alberto from a young age. I was a skeptical person, you might even say something disrespectful as far as paranormal issues are concerned. My friends and acquaintances used to express how horrified they would feel if they had my work at the morgue. But for me, working in that place was any other job. I had had that job since I was eighteen and until that time it was the perfect job for me. I was twenty- six years old when everything changed. My work consisted of the usual functions of a morgue, receiving bodies, performing autopsies, documenting findings and preparing them for delivery to their loved ones. Like I said, it was a quiet job as long as it didn' t bother you to work with corpses. That day or a new body came to the morgue victim of a horrible fateful accident by two Pitbull dogs. His face was unrecognizable without a nose or lower lip. Despite the crudeness of the body. That was not the most striking thing, but it had the body completely full of tattoos related to Satanism. My colleagues in turn made them very nervous, which is why I proposed to do the job on my own, trying to feel braver than all of them. My colleagues accepted and once they left me, I just

1:38 stared at the body for a while before starting the process. I don' t remember exactly what happened when something caught my attention. A slight complaint barely saudible resonated in the room. I turned my head to the sides looking for the sound source, but I only found the room empty. I decided to ignore the sound and continue my tasks, but the whining persisted. This time. As I looked back, I noticed that the blanket that covered the body had fallen to the ground. Intrigued I approached to cover the body again, but while I was doing so I saw something that left me breathless. The body' s eyes opened and stared directly at me. The horror swept me from head to toe and an involuntary scream escaped from my lips. One of my companions, alerted by my cry, ran into the room, but when the corpse arrived, it lay again with its eyes closed as if nothing had happened. I tried to explain that I thought I saw a rat, an absurd excuse that I didn' t believe myself. For my fortune, my partner didn' t try to dig into that much. The following days passed normally. Appearance. I tried to forget the incident, convincing myself that it had been the product of my imagination. I also attributed it to my long shift and had even spent hours on Internet forums investigating all kinds of things that a post- mortem body could do. That was my way of dealing with

3:13 that strange event. It wasn' t long before the routine broke again. Again, while performing the autopsy on a body, I heard the same complaint. My heart accelerated, but this time I resisted the temptation to turn my head. I chose to go on with my work, ignoring the feeling that something was watching me. That decision seemed to be yielding results in an instant. I could hear someone or something screaming right in my ear. That made me even fall off the chair and being on the floor, I realized that I was completely alone. I remember one particular night, while I was alone, the room temperature dropped sharply. I could even see my breath in the air. I felt as if they were watching me from all directions trying to calm down I closed my eyes and started counting from one to ten when I opened them all the drawers of the amorgue were open, the bodies rested on their trays, but they all had their heads turned in my direction, their dead eyes looked at me with a disconcerting intensity. I wanted to run to the exit, but the door was locked. A chilling laugh rang out in the room and the lights flashed before they went out completely in the dark, the shadows came to life. The laughter began to become more intense and the

4:46 figures of the bodies rose from the tables. They surrounded me slowly advancing as the laughter intensified. Desperate I screamed for help, but my voice was lost in the room, plunged into darkness and surrounded by laughter and whispers. Suddenly I felt a pressure on my shoulder as if someone had taken it with a firm grip. My heart beat hard and my survival instinct took desperate control. I tried to pull away the invisible hand that held me, but my hands found only the cold, dense air suddenly. Among all that noise, I heard a voice, it was the voice of one of my co- workers, begging me to calm down. My words barely escaped my lips. While trying to explain what happened. The fear experienced hardly allowed me to articulate coherent phrases. That' s when I noticed the lights were back, the room was lit and the temperature was back to normal. I looked around still trembling from experience and realized that everything looked like normal. The drawers were closed, the bodies rested on their trays and there was no trace of what had just happened was as if I had never witnessed the nightmare that I had just lived.

6:14 My companions looked at me with concern and skepticism, unable to understand the madness I had just experienced. As I tried to find answers, my companions persuaded me to go home and rest that night in the solitude of my home. I could not turn away from my mind the horror I had experienced in the morgue all that happened. It made me think maybe I was going crazy. I went over every detail of what happened trying to find some logic in the nightmare I had lived through. That' s when I remembered the man with the disfigured face and satanic tattoos. That corpse I had seen open my eyes seemed absurd to blame a corpse, but I could not find any other factor either. I refused to think I was really going crazy. The days passed between confusion and fear, which took over my life. After that event in the morgue I tried to lead my life as normal as possible and although I always felt watched and some nights were accompanied by nightmares, events seemed to have stopped. Things took a normal restlessness. With the passing of days, I tried to resume my routine, focus on work and drown my thoughts.

7:36 In spite of everything, I became cautious and avoided being alone as much as possible, but like all attempts to control my environment. This measure proved to be temporary that particular day, had been exhausting. The work accumulated until the end of the day and I was on the verge of exhaustion. When fatigue weighed on me. I had avoided being alone at all costs, but at that time I had no choice. The others had retired or started doing their work leaving me alone. So I tried to keep my mind occupied with day - to- day chores and paperwork, but no matter what I did.

8:20 The tension in the air was overwhelming. As I dived into the documentation work, I began to feel the familiar feeling of being observed again a chill swept through my spine, but I tried to ignore it by attributing it to my own paranoia. That' s when I heard a sound more than the usual whispers. This was a slight tinkling of metal hitting the ground. I tried to rule it out as a product of my tiredness, but the persistence of sound forced me to pay attention. With caution. I turned my head toward the direction of the noise. To my horror standing. Behind me was one of the corpses. He had been involved in a motorcycle accident and his face was visibly scraped and disfigured. The blanket that covered it was lying on the floor. His empty eyes looked at me with malice and a diabolical smile formed on his torn lips. A chill swept through my body, paralyzing my mind struggled to understand what I saw. While my heart was pounding in my chest.

9:33 The corpse began to laugh a dreadful laugh that resonated in the morgue. My legs were shaking as I tried to retreat, but I felt trapped in a dream. The laughter of the corpse intensified, filling the room with a tense atmosphere. In an act of despair, I closed my eyes tightly, begging for this nightmare to come to an end. When he finally gathered the courage to open his eyes, the room was silent, the body had returned to its place and the morgue seemed to be back in its normality. The following nights were worse than ever. The laughter of the corpse mingled with the nightmares that attacked me in the dark. Despite the intensity of the fear of making a fool of yourself. I shared my experience with some of my companions, but their faces reflected disbelief and concern. The morgue for them remained only a place of work without shadows and without unwanted presences. Every day that passed I felt my sanity slowly torn apart. The line between reality and fantasy disappeared.

10:46 More and more, my nights became a succession of torments. Sometimes I was in the morgue surrounded by laughter and whispers and others. I could see some bodies turning their heads so I could see myself when I pretended not to look, I was in despair. The laughter and whispers continued and the only way to find anything like peace was through sleeping pills that night. After taking the pills. I sank into a deep sleep, but unlike the previous nights, this time the nightmare that enveloped me was much worse. I was in the morgue, but this time I had no control over my actions. I was walking towards the autopsy table like an invisible force. I would lead to her on the table lying one of the bodies covered by a blanket without being able to avoid it, I removed the blanket and found myself face to face with the man who had started my nightmare. His empty eyes looked at me and, despite his shattered lips, he seemed to try to smile further worsening his wounds in the process. Suddenly, the nightmare took an even more terrifying turn. The man stood up, stretched out a bloody hand towards me and with a penetrating laugh, took me by the arm with a supernatural force.

12:11 Although I knew I was dreaming the feeling of his grip oppressed me and I could not wake up from that surreal nightmare. The laughter continued to resonate in my ears, as the man dragged me through the morgue the bodies of my companions lay inert. His eyes were open, watching me with an expression of absolute terror and some of them seemed to try to speak to me, but from his lips they only understood babbling. I finally managed to wake up with a shock in my room. He was silent alone, but the feeling of oppression remained in the air. I was fed up with all that exhausted, both physically and emotionally I knew I needed to find answers, although I had no idea where to start. I got up and went to the kitchen looking for some water to calm my nerves. At a slow pace, I tried to calm my agitated breath. The fear was still clinging to me as if the shadows of the nightmare were still haunting me. When I arrived in the kitchen, I filled a glass with water and took it to my lips as I looked at the reflection on the glass of the kitchen door, in the reflection there was a man with his face disfigured with sunken and empty eyes.

13:33 He seemed to be watching me with the same terrifying intensity as in the nightmare. I released the glass with water that crashed into the ground, generating a rumble in the room. I turned quickly, but there was no one behind me. The kitchen was empty. The feeling of being observed did not abandon me, as if that man with a disfigured face continued to stalk me only that I could not see him terrified, I returned to my room and locked the door. My hands were shaking as I tried to process what had just happened. Those things now were not only in my nightmares and in the morgue.

14:15 Now they were in my home. One afternoon, the morgue received a tragic report of a car accident involving a couple of children. Their bodies reached the morgue and the news of their death filled the atmosphere. With regret, though my heart shrunk in the face of tragedy. Duty required me to carry out my work professionally, so, trying to put my fears and thoughts aside, I set out to do my job. I began the work with the professionalism it required, but the heaviness of the environment and the sadness emanating from the small bodies seemed to infiltrate my soul. While performing the procedures, I could not help but feel that I was not alone in the room. The sense of being observed intensified and a presence filled the room. I closed my eyes for a moment trying to push away all those thoughts, but when I opened them I found a creepy vision. The bodies of the children were standing next to the autopsy table. Looking at me with eyes that reflected sadness and bewilderment. My legs were shaking. I tried to talk, but the words got stuck in my throat. Then one of the children reached out to me as if seeking comfort. The room resonated with hurtful whispers and the sadness in

15:46 his eyes pierced my heart. Despite the internal struggle between horror and compassion, I couldn' t help but turn back. Overtaken by the overwhelming supernatural presence, the temperature of the halls dropped sharply and a disturbing laugh was added to the distressing whispers. As he watched impotently, the bodies of the children faded into darkness. Distressed by the supernatural experiences that had marked my life in the morgue, I decided to take a radical step and give up my work. The morgue had already taken too much from me and the hope of finding peace seemed to drift away with every passing day. However, I discovered that the nightmare that was following me did not stop with my resignation. The nights continued to be tormented by disturbing dreams. The bodies of the deceased manifested themselves in my dreams preventing me from finding a good rest. Sleep pills stopped being an option, because if I took them, I ran the risk that the nightmare would catch me even when I wanted to wake up, things weren' t much better. The figures of the deceased materialized in the darkest corners of my home, as well as in the reflections. I no longer needed to be in the morgue to feel their presence, they seemed to have held on to my life in a permanent way. Desperate to free myself from that torment,

17:19 I decided to move believing that a change of environment would be the solution to all my problems. At first, that seemed to work. The nights became quieter, the feeling of being observed diminished and what was more surprising to me was that nightmares were becoming less and less recurrent. However, it was not long before those beings found their way to my new home. The moving cycle became a routine which, despite believing that it would be a unique event, every time I tried to settle in a new place, the bodies of the beyond emerged from the shadows to remind me that there was no escape. The reason behind this persecution was an enigma. I didn' t know why those spirits were clinging to me, but their unwanted presence became a burden. Each move was followed by a brief calm, which sooner or later returned to torment.

18:22 I live with the idea of not knowing if one day they will cease and the reason why I was elected. As its prey remains an unsolved mystery. Today I continued my search for answers as I dragged my existence. The morgue and its secrets left an indelible mark in my life and although I have tried to escape the presence of disfigured bodies, it persists reminding me that no matter how much life tries, as I once knew it will never again be the same story written and adapted by rude auroras ahead