Fuente: Pixabay

Thank you very much dear friends for the company and reading my post, the days have passed very quickly, we have again arrived on Saturday, the day when my blog becomes mystical and scary, for those who enjoy horror movies, it's time of a pause and enjoy a reading, natural or supernatural facts of life, dark legends told to us by our parents. I invite you to enjoy an urban legend as we did in our childhood.

This is my contribution to the natural writing contest proposed by our friend @jerrybanfield, a wonderful slogan for those who like the stories of paranormal encounters.

The land without evil throughout history lodge different cultures, believers and superstitious of paranormal things and beyond, according to their beliefs between earth and hell there is a portal, where assiduously there are entities that return to their homes or places of origins.

 

Welcome dear friends to another Saturday of suspense, the Correntinos are very superstitious, since we were children we were inculcated to believe and respect paranormal things, the land without evil houses thousands of stories of events that have been witnessed, the most popular stories are made of sightings of goblins, the monsters of the Guaraní mythology, the legends in relation to the cemeteries, facts related to sorcery or supernatural experiences

Today's story is a true fact, it happened 39 years ago at 11 years of age. He lived in the Barrio Ponce, a neighborhood away from the city forgotten in time, the rulers did not have eyes for the Corrientes suburban, their work was doomed to the city of Corrientes, the rest was another matter.

Our neighborhood lacked the basic necessities, the drinking water, the sewers and the electric light, to break the darkness of the night we used a candle and thus illuminate our steps. A tenebrous neighborhood because of the stories that it housed, it is not necessary to clarify that in the darkness of the night this was accentuated.

My neighborhood was the scene of war of the triple alliance, in our streets many dead people defending the country, on certain dates, when the darkness of the night came you could hear specific war noises, clashes of swords, neighs of horses and cries of wounded people.

It took me a long time to get used to living this way, nerves took over me just thinking about what could happen during the night, in circumstances like this one lives in fear. The years were passing and with it the fears, there came a time when everything was natural, I was not terrified of the darkness and much less the stories that the neighborhood housed.

The situation of the country was very critical, inflation was destroying the homes of the Argentines, our house was no exception, for this reason I had to start working prematurely.

The father of a friend recommended me to the owner of a mechanical workshop to give me work, there he performed the tasks of an apprentice, the hours were very long, ended after 10.00 pm.

The mechanical workshop was more than five kilometers away, with my bike I had to take national route five to get to work, my house was located more than seven blocks from the route, this section was the most critical, to reach house had to go through two wooded hills and a lagoon, in one of the mountains lived an old man in a tapera, his only company was his ten dogs.

One afternoon when I returned from work early, I had the opportunity to meet the old man, it was not like the other children talked about him, everyone made him look like an old witch, the truth we became good friends, on Sunday he visited him in his small house and told me the stories of the place.

Once I narrate the history of the pore, the story refers to a place where a treasure is buried, in the neighborhood it was very common for the inhabitants in war era to bury their utensils, at that time the utensils were silver and gold, they were looted by the soldiers to assume the costs of the war, for this reason the inhabitants hid their valuables under the earth, from this situation the pora was born.

Popular belief says that the pore, is the soul of the owner of the burial and that makes see only the person who wants to deliver their belongings, according to the old man, there was a burial along the road in front of the lagoon.

It was usual to return home in the wee hours of the morning, on one occasion I came across a big storm, it was raining so much that you could not see it two meters away, for this reason I got off my bike and walked back, the night was dark And scary, I must admit that my body trembled with fear, every ray that fell illuminated all the way, my fear was that lightning fell on the bicycle, at that time we had thought that the metal attracted the rays and that better than a bicycle for this question.

In the distance, under the torrential rain and in the middle of the darkness, you could see the trunk of a large tree that was setting fire, this could not be happening, it was impossible for something to catch fire under the flow of water that fell from the ground. sky, the trunk was right next to the road where it had to pass.

I walked without thinking until a few meters, the fear paralyzed me and it did not allow me to move my legs, in that I listen a few steps behind me, I look back and I see a big man walking in my direction, his steps were long, I passed by side without even looking at me, was a man I had never seen in the neighborhood, extremely large, his clothes were old, in two or three steps he disappeared from my sight.

I do not know how he managed to pass without problem near the tree on fire, this encouraged me to continue, as I passed near the tree I saw clearly how the whole trunk was consumed by the flames, this did not make sense, the rainwater that fell had the strength enough to consume the fire, however this seemed to encourage him, there was no logical explanation, there I remembered the story of the old man of the existence of the pora on the side of the road.

I hurried my steps, I walked forward looking back, this made me collide with something, quickly turn my head and there it was, it was the old man who lived in the bush, standing in the middle of the road, do not be afraid he told me, what you see is the pore, the soul of the owner of the burial, see running to your house and discuss it with your father, he will understand you. That said the old man and disappeared under the torrent of water and darkness.

I ran home and discussed what happened with my parents, they accompanied me back to see how the trunk of the tree was consumed with fire, on arrival there was no sign that there was fire there, we returned to my home When the interrogation began, the interrogation began.

First they asked me to detail step by step what happened, I began my story as it happened, saying that the old man in the forest was in the middle of the road, my parents looked at each other.

They asked me if I was sure it was the same old man, maybe there was the possibility that he was another, I was sure of what I had seen, I had even talked, my parents said that it was impossible, the old man had died several days ago, neighbor felt bad smell, for this reason they reported to the police.

When present the local police officers detected the dead elder, the scene was aberrant, as the days passed and the dogs without eating, began to feed on the body of the deceased elder, it was horrible to see the situation in which the body was, for this reason my parents did not comment on what had happened.

It goes without saying that I went into shock, it was a lot for just one night, the things that happened that night did not make sense.

! Or if!

But not a logical explanation. The trunk that caught fire under the flow of water that fell from the sky, the giant man dressed in period that disappeared in my sight, the old man who spoke while he was dead.

It is logical not to believe in these things, people are not prepared to face these situations, only those who saw unexplainable situations will understand my story, since then avoid going through that path, I did not want to be in the presence of supernatural things.

Source: Pixabay

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I'll wait for you tomorrow to enjoy another account of my land in Corrientes.

José Luis Fernández
Corrientes Argentina
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