Relatos de la Noche - La Mujer en el Árbol (historias de horror)

Episode Date: August 12, 2024

Extraños susurros en el bosque que claman por ayuda, figuras a lo lejos, atadas a un árbol que te piden acercarte, apariciones en la supuesta tranquilidad de tu casa y voces de alguien que está ah��, que no puedes ver pero puedes sentir muy cerca. Eso y más encontrarás en este episodio.¿Te atreves a escuchar?Compra mi libro aquí: https://www.gandhi.com.mx/relatos-de-la-noche-9786073836203/pTambién está en la librería más cerca de ti o en tu preferida para comprar en línea.Síguenos en instagram: https://www.instagram.com/RDLNoficial/Comparte tu relato en: [e-mail] comercial: [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoicesSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Very good nights, community. Let's I'm going to finders here to know

to get to and lists for your dosis of the other paranormal with this

world that sometimes only a only a sometimes it's that that

a a bit that we're that we're that our

people are when they're people that's that's that the people are

more more sensitive and perceptive to those things that we're getting to create at the way that's going to be able to be possible for us and, for

the time, we're not going to know us to be. It's hour to enter in the stories and we we're going to be ready to share your experience paranormal with the community and be the next

protagonist of the night. Hello, community. Today, I want to share with you is an experience that has marked profoundly,

something that I've got to be in my interior during many years. I prefer prefer to

remain anonym, but I'm that this is the place to talk my history

and to hear his opinions about. All right. It was when I was

a little our life in Houston, roaded of family, of people, our house

always was full of rissas, of renuons family and of that calideous that only the

home can offer over the quality of the families Mexican or Latinas in general. But one day,

the life gave a year in unperated. My papa, who I had a

project of engineering, was assigned to a project temporal in Oregon. The

mutton was only for months, but those months were in the time

the time more the arboles, altos and frondos. From the first moment, the house me appeared a salida of a film, a structure

an old, with an air of mystery that made me feel inquieto, but not was only I who was the was the

time, that was only three years, it was probably incoomod. For him, the change was especially

difficult. Had been very close to our two abuelas that he was always every

days, and to be back atras all the he knew was a whole a good

and he was a house, he was he was he said that there was a

my manito was a man, he said that there was a man

was a man, covered of a paltion that and scalce and

without he, he's he but he was he, but it was

he was At first, we took a fantasy, something that a something that a little bit to bring the attention, or to show his desire to return to Houston. We said that we'd we'd like to protect us, but in reality, no we'd never much importance. We thought that it was just a form of manifestar

his discontenton with the muddance. But all changed one night, when my papa my father and we had ever heard of a great spantous in the plenna mudrogated. I never had heard of my papa gritty, and that was all of a fear profound. He went out of the court with a cuchillo in the man, revisiting every rinkon of the house.

We took to my brother and me to his court and then he said to my mom that we'd say that we'd have in the car. I don't understand what was happening, but I could feel the terror in the environment. Also my mom

it was a little sentia. From the car, we saw my my papa revisable when finally he was made a mochile and

he said that we went to a motel. It was there when we tried to we were when I

heard my my father's that had been a word in middle of the house, something at the point of the

but the but the the sound. When finally he's he's

completely, he was that the was quite very strange, he was incorporated in the

camera, trying to make the view and then he he saw he a

something, a man with a face, and he wasmabas his

head of those large and whusususus rescable the sound incietante my

papa he was paralyzed, but what really he really was when he saw the eyes of that thing. Bridgian in the obscurity, reflecting a light that not was there, and the

worst of all, he was sorry. It was in that moment when my papa gritted, that figure out came out of my father, even without

understanding what was going to do you to see to the cell where he was to see it in the room. Asegure that it was a

a dream, that he saw clearly disappear in she. Revised all the house, but the

only that found were markers of the door in the door, and a pair of

quayas in the cell. Only two, only two coeyes, like if that cost

had disfanecated in the air. After of that night, we

moved to a motel, where we're two months, while

my papa negotiated his change the project. We'll

to Houston as soon as we're in my papa has a own own the

own he's convinced that someone was a person a intruse

a man who was that was that was my mom

on another has another different I think that my

brother before to move to Oregon I was

I was being something something something. He said that in Texas he had mentioned to that man

but that in Oregon, in that house, that presence was made more more than real that even my papa

could see I don't know to believe my father is a woman logical, no he's never

to get to think of but what what I saw in his eyes was a night was a

thing that never had seen in him. I would I'd like to know what you'd like you think what really occurred in that house. Thank you for your attention.

Never I'll never ever. My records of the house of the Obola Juanita always had been calidos, full of a risa and the aroma pan recined, but that this was, something in the environment was distinct, and, although not I was in her moment, a part of me presentia that something was was to pass. We came to the town clavowed in the mountains of Durango in the mid-a-tardtardtard.

The voyage had been long and tortuoso, with curbs that seemed not to have been fin, while ascending from the road-edgeded of arboles that were ascentinels antivous. The sky was a blue immutable. Here was a tapis, a new-gris that moved very lentiment, as a presage. Like a presage. The house of the abuel was about a garden of a garden of audeau.

the naturalise, had reclamed his terrain. And is that she every way could put her less attention. Yeah, he was able

and not could be able to work in him as well. The walls of the house, although solid,

they were the cicatrisas of the time, and the tejado of musgo, resumable

humedad. A lo long of the mountain was a majestic a majstuously, her cima,

as soon perd in the nibla, in that a nyebla that never was dissipated of all. The air

was dense, impregnated of humidity, and a brisa that was afts that we're to go to

that we've been to get in the mountain, in the house of the bula, and at

the time we we're we're we're the calide of our

times in the city. The adults almost always are

that atmosphere. My mom, my tios, all were

occupied with the preparatives of the Cena, as always, charlando, poniedosal to the corrient. And, and then that time, my

primos, Cali and René, and, with my hermana, decided to explore the around the

I was a little more, and preferer to get me nearer to they're in the somras of the

arboles. But no passed much time before that the curiosity me

and I decided to see them to be to be to had been gone. When they

they were even though they were to enter into more in the bush. Sin think in those stories that the adultsolian to tell to start to us. There was something in those arboles, in the form in that its ramas were returcised into the skyl, that me made sense

always a little, insignificant. The light of the sun only was able to filterarse into the foliage, speso, and it had sombras, sombras that weretes to move to our around,

like if the bush had a life proper. The soil under our feet

was a humid and and every pass he'd up to a little odor of

a dark mojada that me enomorra and you've

heard that asked Adam, detenien deperient his voice

normally firmly had a a lighty a question that was

we're we're we're we intentent trying to distinguish something. Then we

we heard it was a sound a little a murmur but clearly human, a voice

that seems to come to all the partes and of the time. I know

that is difficult to understand but that is the only way in the

one I'm help for favor help me I'm said

like a a suspiro arastrado by the the nyebla.

We're looking at least us on the rest of the confirmation of what we've seen. The nibble that was been a present

distant, he was going to move to make the voice that was that's even more that we had to prismia.

We're going to be someone that needs a help, said René, with the valentia that only a

little a little a little man can Without expect, response, he hadented more in the bush, segued by Calais and Adriana. I,

sentient a mixture of a messla of terror, of curiosity, but, over all, of course, for them, I was going to,

and that one of me was a great of me that would be that would be a matter that we hadentrable the arboros,

the arboros and robustus and vibrant, now were they werechites, his truncos of musko, and the rams

tracredas like man's escaletic so extend in us the air is more

dense, cargated of a modality distinct pesada that's had had

to our and the nibla so reduced our vision to us on those

meters on the earth in our feet was always more blanda

and as almost if the buske intents to trygars

we finally we we clear. In the center there was a tree distinct to

all the other of the trunk was a grues and retorsed as it had suffered

a torment. But what was what we saw that we've seen to

the tree with a old was a woman her

a pale pale and and almost flusida and

was found with the corde like the the tree was absorbing it

lently. His eyes were with a messal of desperation and a surprise. Susurro

the woman, like if every word a costar an effort immense.

Extendia one to us a man down to in the coasos with

in the longs and black and my three and my brothers retosososos

for fear and I sent a nude form in my stomach

who who you asked Adriana. His voice was trembling,

but maintaining the compostura. The woman closed the woman, it was like if the border of

that was a person of me was a lucion, an illusion created by the natural, an intuition primitive me said that

what we were real. I don't know how time we passed us there, looking to the woman

without what to do. The fear was paralyzable, and even we had

we had to do you, no part of us had to be able to be to get to

get a first, we can't, we can't, we have to be said, to my parents,

to my mother, said, with her voice kebrared for the terror.

Ascenti, incapable to articulate a the word, too. The four did we make a

turn to cross, tropeas' treas'n't like the ramas, the raises were they're

to traparns. The Danil us involved every way more, and the echo of the voice of the woman resonable

in my mind with every passo that I was I'm sorry for not having it

had you get to the house jadeando with the fear with the

The adults us mirrored with surprise, and when we started what we'd have seen, his expressions changed to

incredulity to preoccupation. But was the Abuela Juanita who really understood the gravity of what

was going, his rostro, normally tranquill and sereno, it's obscured.

His eyes had acquired an intensity that never had ever before. They've been to be

to hear. I'm not. He said with a voice firm, almost authoritarian, very different to the I always used with usher. Although it was

very devil and needed help to, even was a little and needed help

to come in none of us was to trybio to say, the way

was silencioso. The nibla was more denser, like if the bush that

waske myself want to want to when we my parents and my tios began to to look desperated,

trying to find her the woman that we had described. But no there was a rastro

of her. So, we found that that's a dark, dark, redorced.

The bosa circled to him, and without saying a word, he began

to restar. His words in a usurro almost imperceptible flotable, and the

the air and the the wind that until had been quiet, he started sop

suavement. As if responded to the plagues, we're we're we're

we're observing in silence, we're we're that nobody was going to something.

After the little bit, the vwe was back to the question

that's a trestice and certain resignation What you saw real, said in voice Baja,

mirrored, looking to my fathers and tios, that even were still uncreduos. This

woman lived here a lot time. It was a brahma was trapped for his

own many manifios. The are the they're they're and for

some why I decided to show to them but not they're not can't

do you. We've been respect your a rest. The return to the house was silencioso.

Nobody was able to talk about the occured as a result as a risk to attract to bring to

again that's the mother, Juanita that always had been been the

family was more more than never. At the house to retire his

court and said the adultos even they were not

they were not couldn't occulted the preoccupation. That night, the silence in the house was

almost palpable. Even the ruses of the bush, the can't of the grilloes and the crugied

of the rams were extingu for complete. I kept a very time, nothing more looking at the the

room that I'd with my primos, trying to understand what we'd have been

seen. The fear is installed in my beech, and even I'd try to convince me

that all had been a product of our imagination, no could sacudered me the sensation that something

that's an old, and we had observed from the sunras, and that I was there

were. A minute that the hours advanced, the silence of the

night was almost unsuppable for me. My eyes recorriated

to the room, looking some signal, some indication of an not was real,

of that I was a loco, of that was my imagination. But the house remained in a mutism

inquietante, like if the proper Bosque had decided to maintain his secret occulted,

as if were we're part of that that I'm I'm I

got to I'm I'm not sure, but my dreams with the woman

at the arbor, with her mirrored with her head with the nibre space that we're about, and the voice of the abel of Juanita

resigning in a idiom that I didn't know I'd I'm just I'm just I'm with the

heart with force in the pecho, only to find me in the same obscurity in that

maldita obscurity. At the morning the morning next, the climate had been

changed, the zone only could never able to the neblower the

mountain, and the air was impregnated of an humidity free that was made of the house. My papas, my tios, were tried to actual as if nothing had happened, but the tension was evident. The children were close to the house,

demacios stalled, as to venture us in the bush. Even the abuela, normally madrugator, not had been out of her Quart, passed some days

before that someone mentioned the incident. It was during a scene, in the

ambient was silencius and the conversations many. My mom, with a

voice and full of a question, he asked to the

abel what had happened really in the buske. My

abuelita that that that had been in silence, he

he went the vista of his plato and we know to all. His eyes oscourous, reflecting a little more profound than the simple

cansanse, that woman, I said, with her voice a voice a bit more firm. That woman

was a woman who lived here a much time, a woman a woman

for his own the people told to tell stories about she, about how

used the houseke to the bors' They were in-circa, but one day, the people of here so, they were to be able to bea-trapped around and latar on a

arbor, and, hoping that the natural-same was she wasnton be able to beckon. And so it was. But her spirit never descendsed. He said a pause, like if the words were in the book. Decia to my mom-a-that the arboles they absorbed, that they did some part of them.

And, of once in when, when the climate and the circumstances are the adequate your spirit is a matter and looking liberars what you've seen was your desperation so intent to aferrars to live your spirit

only would try a mal to who do you do for that's better where is in peace although that for her is free and oscura the abitation I don't get in silence

after the words of the abuela. Nobody knew to say. One part of me

I wanted to ask more, I'm understand, but another more savvy. I know

that some things were better to have without without that that was

the last time that we did you and the time, the family

didn't visit so the house of the mother. However, every

that I regressable, I could avoid to look to the border of the bush. Buskating

between the mrs. Some Rastro of that presence that had marked my infancia.

I never heard that voice, nor see that figure palid between the arboles.

But the record remained with me like a cicatrice invisible. Today,

now adult, I don't I don't me I don't what was what really

was the day. It was only a legend, a story to start to the children, or there was a little more, something that the bush himself had decided to show us.

Never was I will know with certain, but one is sure. That vera was the form in that I saw the world, and I learned

that there are forces in the natural that is better to be in peace, never discover them. And even

not I didn't hear that voice, every that I feel a breeze frie

or I'm the nebler to sender over the mountains, although it's a million

of distance, even in other part of the world, I can

avoid to be to remember a woman, that the end of the

future, and the future, and I never ever I'm in the

community we're here, I'm in the time to hear you start with

stories of phantasas and us we're not our opinion, your theory about the relato of

this night. I'm I'm going to get a link to that you find my book of

the night and also the novel graphic. Of this yeah they're

more less of there there there's there there more

editions so so that are the collection total the ones

are the ones are the final. We'll see them in more for the book,

as you can get the book, what you know, you know, you know, that you can get to

a paper, and I will be to signer because what I know, more than

that I can't, this, is to be to be with you,

and be to front to the people that the community. So,

the Although not they have been able to buy it, they'll be a very good to salute them. For now, we'll continue with a story more because, no. Aun no survive as the episode of this night.

My papa always me told with a certain reserve a story that for many years he impeded to permit me to campar. Although the campism is an activity that we passiona

as family, he could not to avoid to feel a profound a sudden temor, and the idea of to let me adventur me

in the natural my country. It was until I became a adolescent that decided to confiarm

in the reason to my time. It was a night like any other

when he was a young, and he had decided to go to camp with

his old he had frequent a camp in the buske

a just a few a few a a little

a place that That night, after to have seen around the foggata and to

get a lot of the house of campana to get back. The smell of the leon of the air,

and everything was to be in calm. But then something, something something was a

shrews, a jantto, suave at the principle but the sufficiently clear as to

capture the It was the yant of a woman, soyoosando in the obscurity. It was a sound distant, but it was circled and then it wasercathed to them.

At the beginning, they were toer, thinking that could be an animal or simply the windo jogging with his minds. It would be the

first. But the yantto persisted, roadinglos, as if a presence invisible was living around the tent.

Malio, the most curious of the three, he wasomed by the center, abriended just a little, but no view nothing. Sin embargo, the yantto still moving to beading just

front of the door, but without that was not a sombre, nor a figure, nothing, only the sound inquietante and doloroso. Decidiered not

to make a case, convinced that could be able to be that could be try to a phantasm. In that bus that had been have heard stories to apparitions,

of almas in pen that vagabbing between the arbores. But what happened was something that no one of them

was there was the year of the campaign that the that he was he was a small he,

he began to move something, or someone, I was trying to open them

from out of they they were clearly, the cremallel and it was

like if some some the most of the hands invisible to try and forcibly was a rye who

with aft reflex, he was a balancos over the security, evils it was able to

completely. In that moment, the yant was more more strong and sortde- was,

roadhands like a torment, and of a sound ceased, the voice

was that was in a silence absolute, so dense that can listen to their

own their own their suspeachos. But that silence dur was only a second, because, of the point, the yantos heard of the new. This time,

since the deep of the bush, like if the presence had been alighed rapidly, leaving after she a echo of angustia. The papa had heard of the spirits of the bosque, of the duendos that, according the

legends, make those sounds to start to who enter into their dominions in their dominions, but until that night, never had believed in those

stories. That experience it was for ever and it was the last time that camped

or he did for that reason it cost it for the time to do it.

For suerte to the day of I know I've heard

not I've seen not but I can't think in that

history every every I know I'm in the

the the obscurity of the bush with only a delgated tela, separatom me of the disconocid. Of the obscurity. Of the night.