El Mago De Los Ojos Azules

El Mago De Los Ojos Azules

jueves, 30 de abril de 2026

The Bride of The Port of Colombia (Short Story) - The End by Hanner Goenaga

In that moment, an old taxi driven by an unknown driver began to travel along the road to the sea. The woman’s soul saw him with her mouth open and a fallen face because she thought she had captured everyone in the village. This time she didn't need to wave her arm; he stopped himself and said: "Do you need a ride to the church in the center, miss?"

​The Bride's expression changed, and she said with a kind smile: "That's right, Mr. Taxi Driver, that is where I am heading."

​She got into the car with excitement, a huge smile plastered on her face. Meanwhile, the driver also transmitted joy in his expression, as a sign of congratulations.

​They crossed the concrete path with enthusiasm, and this time the car managed to cross the entrance of the town. Just as they did, a dark spirit detached itself from the woman and stayed behind, but Luz Marine still remained on board. The black clouds over the forest began to dissipate.

​They arrived at the plaza of The Port of Colombia, and the bride observed the sea from the tip of the pier, and she even ran along the beach smiling.

​Elkin Martine, her fiancé, committed suicide a few days after his future wife's death due to the intense depression it caused him. Claire remained alone for the rest of her life, until the day she died. Charles lost his life in the hospital a few hours after arriving.

​However, upon reaching the church, her fiancé was waiting for her there at the altar, and her cousin was also there, applauding them in the front row. The taxi driver stayed at the entrance of the church with wrinkled eyes but a smile on his lips. The Port of Colombia, Luz Marine Castro, and Elkin Martine lived happily, literally forever

The Bride of The Port of Colombia (Short Story) - Part 4 by Hanner Goenaga

 


​Until one day, the woman's soul grew tired of not having a new victim for a long time. So, during her next appearance, she decided to ask the taxi driver:

​"Why are you ignoring me?" she said, her voice harsh this time. But silence prevailed as he feigned calmness on the outside while being paralyzed within.

​"So that's how it is, eh!" The Bride suddenly appeared in the seat next to the driver and opened her mouth in his face with sinister gestures.

​The taxi driver was startled and grit his teeth, as he nearly lost control of the steering wheel. The woman immediately appeared lying face down on the roof of the taxi and began to hit it with force. The man lowered his head and chest several times with a frowned brow. Finally, she stuck herself head-down on the windshield with a terrifying expression. The driver’s hair stood on end; he turned his face away, closing his eyes, and completely lost sight of the road.

​He swerved the car, and it fell into a lagoon they were passing by. The large pool of water was to the right of the asphalt, before reaching the entrance to Puerto Colombia; it was about to roll through its streets.

​Despite everything, the driver swam out of the vehicle, managed to reach the shore, and without a second thought, fled toward the entrance. Behind him came the Bride, chasing him at great speed. He just kept running, soaked. He looked back every now and then with a stretched face, mouth open, and panting to see how close she was. But just before reaching him, the taxi driver managed to cross the limit of the entrance.

​He told his fellow yellow-cab drivers what had happened, and they stared into the distance, their faces frozen, not knowing what to do now. Then they heard the loud crack of a lightning bolt coming from the outskirts of the urban center and saw the sky invaded by black clouds. Now, all the inhabitants of the town of The Port of Colombia were trapped.

The Bride of The Port of Colombia (Short Story) - Part 3 by Hanner Goenaga

Weeks later, another public driver was crossing the same road heading toward the entrance of the town. He was aware of everything that had happened, so he drove with caution. Suddenly, while passing through the accident zone, he also saw the woman dressed in white in the middle of the road, waving her hand.

​It seemed strange to him, so he stared at her closely. That was when he realized she was a woman in a wedding dress and that she had the same face as the one he had seen in the newspaper—the one who had lost her life in the first accident.

​The man trembled and his face turned pale, so he stepped on the gas. When he passed by her, she followed him with her gaze while moving her arm. But he kept going, staring straight ahead, pretending he hadn't seen her.

​A few minutes passed and the taxi driver began to relax and return to normal; he exhaled, closing his eyes. But at that moment, he heard a woman's voice say to him: "Why didn't you stop? I'm going to be late for my wedding."

​The driver turned around on the spot with his jaw dropped and the veins in his face bulging. He saw the woman sitting there with a gentle smile. He lost control of his car and spun around on the road, heading toward the forest. He ended up crashing the automobile into the trunk of a thick tree.

​Over time, many more taxi drivers from the town began to have encounters with the soul of the Bride of Puerto Colombia. She became a topic of conversation among the inhabitants, who spoke of her with concern and fear, unable to find a solution. The story of the Bride had already transcended to cities throughout the region.

​She did not manifest all the time, but when she did, many of them had already learned to control themselves in her presence to avoid ending up in a deadly accident. However, every time they were about to cross that path, they would say a prayer. Every time they crossed the entrance to the village, the ghost woman would vanish. She could only wander and manifest her torment in the area of the trees.

The Bride of The Port of Colombia (Short Story) - Part 2 by Hanner Goenaga


The wedding never took place, and Elkin cried inconsolably for his fiancée at her wake, with Claire Teresa, also dressed in mourning black, by his side comforting him.

​Days passed and traffic on the route returned to normal, but as night fell, a private taxi driver was passing through the area where the event had occurred. However, he had not heard about what happened.

​He saw a woman dressed in white waving her hand at him. Since he was already on his way home, he assumed the woman was heading in the same direction, so he stopped to pick her up.

​As the young lady got into the back, she told him: "I don't know why my cousin left me stranded here halfway; I'm going to be late for the wedding."

​"Where are you heading, miss?" the taxi driver asked her.

​"To the church in the center of town, if it's not too much trouble. My fiancé must be waiting for me. He might think I stood him up if I don't hurry," she laughed softly, placing the side of her hand over her lips.

​"Of course, miss, I live very close to there," the driver answered enthusiastically, without even thinking that it was no time to be celebrating weddings.

​She traveled happily, looking out the window and smiling, while he drove with a fresh face and his mouth slightly agape. Suddenly, as soon as they entered the urban area, the taxi driver said to her:

​"We are almost there, miss..." but he looked in the rearview mirror and saw no one in the back seat.

​His eyes sank and his forehead began to sweat. He turned around agitated and breathing fast to see for himself: the back seat was empty. When he turned back to the front, he realized he had lost control of the car. He screamed with his lips puckered, waving his arms over his face, as he realized he was heading straight for a pole.

​Passersby on that stretch of road were dumbfounded by the consecutive accidents that had occurred in the area, not knowing exactly what the reason was, since the pavement was solid and the crack had reconstructed itself.

The Bride of The Port of Colombia (Short Story) - Part 1 by Hanner Goenaga

 

Luz Marine Castro was a woman who lived in The Port of Colombia town. She was engaged to her future husband, Elkin Martine, and her wedding day was approaching.

​However, there was a woman in her neighborhood who had always been in love with him. Her name was Claire Teresa.

​She could not stand the fact that her beloved was marrying a woman other than herself, so she decided to take malevolent matters into her own hands through the side of darkness. Since she was a child, Claire lived with her aunts and saw how they secretly performed magic rituals with lit candles in their dark rooms. So, she decided to go into their rooms to pry through their belongings and found an old notebook where they explained how to perform spells.

​A day before the wedding of Luz Marine and her fiancé, Claire went to the middle of the road that led to the center of the town where the church was located. She stepped among the trees of the thick vegetation on the sides of the road, and in a space between the thin trunks, she drew a circle on the ground with triangular figures in the center. She lit a tall, wide flare of fire with wood, and in front of it, she placed Luz Marine's photo. She whispered a few words in the form of a prayer, and night arrived.

​The next day, Luz Marine woke up with a smile on her face, got ready in a hurry, and in a few minutes, she had already put on her wedding dress. Her cousin Charles Rodriguez, the taxi driver, arrived to pick her up on time, and joy was reflected on their faces.

​They took the road to the sea, heading towards the center of the coastal town, but when they entered the area of the road that only had green leaves and trunks on its sides, Charles, out of excitement, did not realize that he had exceeded the speed limit.

​In a few minutes, they reached the middle of the journey, but what they didn't know was that they were about to step on the spot where the envious girl had performed the spell. A few meters away, a crack that was not there before formed in the pavement from side to side.

​The driver, Charles, managed to spot the crack. He opened his eyes wide, and the skin on his face stretched back. But since he was speeding, he failed to brake in time, and as soon as the taxi touched the slit, it flipped into the air and then fell upside down on the ground, dragging along the cement.

​A few hours later, the area was surrounded by yellow tape and police. An ambulance arrived and was picking up Charles on a stretcher to take him to the hospital. But Luz Marine's body, still wearing her wedding dress, lay lifeless on the road with her limbs twisted.

viernes, 17 de abril de 2026

El Hechizo de la Soledad Eterna y el Despertar Cósmico - Parte 2 (Cuento Corto)

 


Con el fallecimiento de Erick, Elton se convirtió en el egresado más popular de la institución. Ya que debido a la gran fortuna de su familia, había instaurado una gran empresa que estaba triunfando en el mercado y por eso era reconocido.

Lo que Elton no sabía era que la energía del ataque oscuro que había contratado para que acabara con la vida de Erick, había quedado vagando por los aires. Estaba buscando al que para esta era un estafador y quería su paga por haberla invocado, la cual era su alma. 

Cuando una persona fallece por causa de la maldad de otra, su alma queda vagando en el mundo invisible de la tierra hasta que llegue la verdadera hora de muerte, a la que estaba destinado y así trascender. 

Pero como Erick encontró la felicidad junto a las almas de sus dos nuevos amigos, rompió el hechizo y lo mandó a volar cuando abandonó este plano. Como la fuerza maligna no cumplió con lo que dicta su naturaleza, entonces regresó a su origen en busca del autor material o intelectual y al primero que encontró fue a Elton.

Elton en ese momento se encontraba en una fiesta de cócteles celebrando el triunfo de su compañía con la gente prestigiosa y adinerada de su ciudad, rodeado de mujeres muy bellas.

Cuando de repente, se escuchó un estruendo en un costado del salón del club. Una mesa siendo volteada y el sonido del vidrio de copas destrozandose en el suelo. 

Todos miraron hacia allá. Con los ojos hundidos bien abiertos, con la boca en círculo y las líneas de la frente marcadas, vieron que se trataba un ejecutivo y el vicepresidente de la empresa de Eĺton dándose puños. 

En eso, el ejecutivo sacó un arma de su chaleco y le dio tres disparos al compañero de Elton en medio de la fiesta quitándole la vida.

El vicepresidente de Elton era el que realmente manejaba su empresa, ya que tenía estudios universitarios en economía. Elton con su bajo coeficiente intelectual solo había puesto el dinero. 

Desesperado busco quien lo pudiera reemplazar, pero los mejores ya estaban trabajando en otros proyectos. Contrató a otros que se presentaron a sus entrevistas, pero ninguno dio la talla para dominar semejante compañía como lo hacía el difunto.

Comenzó a haber tanta desorganización en las finanzas y en la producción de la empresa que muchos clientes cancelaron sus contratos y con el tiempo el negocio fue decayendo hasta terminar en la bancarrota.

A Elton le embargaron su gran mansión por el no pago de préstamos que hizo para intentar salvar su empresa pero no funcionó.

Fue a buscar apoyo donde su padre que era el que lo había apoyado económicamente con la primera inversión. Pero se encontró con que su enorme vivienda igual había sido confiscada por un delito que cometió. Se había ido del país y tenía forma de comunicarse con él porque no conocía su paradero.

A los pocos días, recibió una llamada en la que le comunicaron que su madre había muerto en un accidente de carro. Contacto a su demás familia pero nadie lo quiso ayudar ni dar empleo porque sabían que él era un bueno para nada y no sabía hacer nada bien. Sus amigos al ver que ya no era adinerado se alejaron de él.

Elton terminó como un mendigo en la calle y el único refugio que tenía era el edificio abandonado donde antes yacía su poderosa empresa. El cual, ya estaba invadido de otros indigentes que ni se percataban de su presencia. 

Al final, el ex millonario por la desesperación que sentía, decidió subir a la azotea del edificio. Sin embargo, esta vez no eran de seis pisos, eran de veinte más. Se subió de pie en el bordillo de la orilla donde se veía la ancha carretera y la energía oscura se llevó su alma a las profundidades de la oscuridad.

The Spell of Eternal Solitude and the Cosmic Awakening - Part 2 (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 


​With Erick’s passing, Elton became the most popular alumnus of the institution. Due to his family’s immense fortune, he had established a major company that was thriving in the market, bringing him widespread recognition.

​What Elton did not know was that the energy from the dark strike he had contracted to end Erick’s life remained wandering through the air. It was searching for the one who, in its eyes, was a fraud; it wanted its payment for having been summoned: his soul.

​When a person dies due to another’s malice, their soul wanders the invisible world of the Earth until their true destined hour of death arrives, allowing them to transcend.

​However, since Erick found happiness alongside the souls of his two new friends, he broke the spell and sent it flying when he departed this plane. Because the malevolent force failed to fulfill its nature, it returned to its origin in search of the mastermind—and the first one it found was Elton.

​At that moment, Elton was at a cocktail party, celebrating his company's success with the city’s prestigious elite, surrounded by beautiful women.

​Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from one side of the club’s ballroom. A table was overturned, followed by the shattering sound of crystal glasses hitting the floor.

​Everyone turned to look. With sunken, wide-open eyes, gaping mouths, and furrowed brows, they saw an executive and the company’s vice president trading blows.

​In the heat of the moment, the executive pulled a gun from his vest and fired three shots at Elton’s partner, killing him right there in the middle of the party.

​Elton’s vice president was the one who truly managed the company, as he held a degree in economics. Elton, with his low intellect, had only provided the capital.

​Desperate, he searched for a replacement, but the best professionals were already committed to other projects. He hired others who showed up for interviews, but none were capable of commanding such a massive company as the deceased had.

​Disorganization began to plague the finances and production. Many clients canceled their contracts, and over time, the business decayed until it fell into bankruptcy.

​Elton’s grand mansion was foreclosed due to his failure to repay the loans he took out in a futile attempt to save the business.

​He went to seek support from his father, who had originally financed his first investment. But he discovered that his father's enormous home had also been confiscated due to a crime he committed. He had fled the country, leaving no way to be reached, as his whereabouts were unknown.

​A few days later, Elton received a call informing him that his mother had died in a car accident. He reached out to the rest of his family, but no one wanted to help or offer him a job; they knew he was useless and lacked any real skills. His friends, seeing he was no longer wealthy, abandoned him.

​Elton ended up as a beggar on the streets. His only refuge was the abandoned building where his powerful company once stood—a place now overrun by other homeless people who didn't even notice his presence.

​Finally, driven by desperation, the former millionaire decided to go to the rooftop. However, this time it wasn’t six stories high; it was twenty more. He stood on the edge of the ledge overlooking the wide highway, and the dark energy took his soul into the depths of darkness.

viernes, 10 de abril de 2026

El Hechizo de la Soledad Eterna y el Despertar Cósmico (Cuento Corto)

Erick era un chico que se estaba graduando de la escuela. Era felicitado por haber sido un muy buen estudiante, por haber sacado muy buenas notas y ya había sido admitido en la universidad para iniciarla después de vacaciones. Sin embargo, Elton, un compañero que no le había ido muy bien porque no era muy mentalmente hábil, le tenía envidia a su éxito. Así que decidió arruinarle la vida sin tener ningún prejuicio legal: decidió destruir su triunfo con brujería. 

Elton, a pesar de no ser tan astuto para los estudios como Erick, tenía un mejor estado económico por su familia. Así que tenía unos contactos que le recomendaron a un poderoso hechicero oscuro, al cual, le realizó una transacción bancaria de una alta suma de dinero y el juego de la magia negra empezó.

​Erick era un chico que estaba a punto de graduarse de la escuela. Todos lo felicitaban por ser un estudiante excepcional; sus excelentes notas le habían asegurado una plaza en la universidad para iniciar justo después de las vacaciones. Sin embargo, Elton, un compañero que carecía de su agudeza mental, lo observaba con un odio silencioso. Envidioso de su éxito, Elton decidió arruinarle la vida de una forma que no dejara rastro legal: destruiría su triunfo mediante la brujería.

​A pesar de no ser astuto para los estudios, la familia de Elton poseía una gran fortuna. Gracias a sus contactos, llegó hasta un poderoso hechicero oscuro. Tras una transferencia bancaria de una gran suma de dinero, el juego de la magia negra comenzó

Al día siguiente, Erick al llegar a su casa vio que sus papás estaban discutiendo. Rodó la cabeza hacia atrás con la cara hundida ya que le pareció muy extraño, ellos nunca habían peleado así. Su madre consternada por la actitud de su esposo solo le gritaba con lágrimas en sus mejillas, pidiendole que se detuviera. Mientras que él seguía arrojandole las cosas de la casa. Tiraba los jarrones al suelo y hasta las pinturas que estaban colgadas en la pared.

Al final, su padre dio media vuelta y se dirigió hacia él con pasos firmes, la cara roja y las manos empuñadas.

Erick le dijo con las cejas hacia arriba y la cara medio temblando, —Espera papá ¿Qué está pasando? pero este solo le dio un gran empujón haciéndolo caer sentado en el sofá. Se dirigió a la puerta saliendo de la casa para nunca volver. 

Su mamá se quedó en una silla llorando y él solo pudo abrazarla para intentar consolarla. Días después, la mujer cayó en cama y en menos de un mes falleció.

Sus padres pagaban la casa con un crédito hipotecario que Erick, con sus escasos ahorros, no pudo cubrir. Intentó llamar a su padre desesperadamente, pero el celular siempre estaba apagado. Sin nadie que pagara la deuda, el banco embargó la propiedad a los pocos meses.

Erick buscó a sus demás familiares para que lo ayudaran y le dieran posada pero desconociendo la razón, todos ellos se habían mudado de sus casas y se habían ido muy lejos. Ninguno de sus amigos le contestaba las llamadas o los mensajes así que se dio cuenta que se había quedado solo. El brujo seguía atacando.

Al joven solo le alcanzaba para arrendar un cuarto mientras conseguía un trabajo de medio tiempo ya que cuando entrara a la universidad no le iba a dar tiempo. Se dirigió al centro de la ciudad donde sabía que arrendaban las habitaciones más económicas. Vio en la puerta de un antiguo y desgastado edificio que había un letrero de “SE ARRIENDA HABITACION” no lo pensó dos veces y entro al lugar.

Los dias pasaron, ya se estaba quedando sin dinero para comprar comida y no conseguía trabajo. Además, el sentimiento de soledad comenzó a invadir su ser, que luego se convirtió en una depresión severa. Esta no le permitía concentrarse para buscarle una salida a su situación, así que pensó que era mejor dejar de sufrir. El brujo seguía atacando.

Subió hasta la azotea del edificio y se subió de pie en el muro que da a la calle. Abrió los brazos y con sus ojos llorosos se dejó caer de frente. Las lágrimas pasaban por los costados de su frente mientras caía. Hasta que de repente, se despertó asustado en la cama de la habitación. Pensó que todo había sido un sueño.

Sin embargo; se dio cuenta que la escasez de comida todavía estaba presente, así que se dijo a sí mismo, — Así me toque pedir dinero en la calle, no me voy a dar por vencido. 

Bajo el edificio y salió por la puerta de atrás que igual estaba inundada de transeúntes. Le decía a todo el que pasaba, —¿Me puede colaborar con una moneda por favor? Es para comprar comida. Tan solo con una monedita por favor. 

Pero era como si todos lo ignoraran o como si nadie lo viera, porque ni le respondian. En eso, vio a un muchedumbre de gente en la esquina dirigiéndose con prisa a la otra calle, se escuchaba mucho ruido de murmullos. Al parecer algo estaba ocurriendo allí, así que inmediatamente fue a ver. 

Al doblar la esquina del otro lado del edificio, vio que toda la gente estaba en la mitad de la calle rodeando algo. Al acercarse y meterse entre las personas para ver qué era lo que estaba pasando. Vio que por detrás iba llegando en reversa un vehículo de transporte forense. Al mirar el suelo, vio que había una persona ahí tirada. Pero se le pusieron los pelos de punta y abrió bien los ojos que se le inundaron en segundos, al ver que era el cuerpo y la cara de él.

Erick comenzó a sudar, y miraba para todos lados de forma acelerada con la cara arrugada, mientras montaban su cadáver en la furgoneta. Se miró las manos y vio que eran transparentes. Lo que pensó que había sido un sueño no fue un sueño, fue real. Ahora era un alma en pena que aun estaba en el plano terrenal.

Salió corriendo y se dirigió con prisa al apartamento donde estaba su habitación. Al llegar ahí, este estaba lleno de policías que ya habían desalojado a los demás inquilinos. Había cintas de escena de crimen amarillas en la entrada de este y en la puerta de su cuarto. Los oficiales estaban metiendo toda su ropa y sus pertenencias en bolsas negras.

Corrió e intentó quitarselas pero lo que hizo fue traspasarlos, no podía hacer nada en ese estado.

Salió a la calle consternado, sudando frío y con el pecho agitado. Corrió por el andén del boulevard aun con la depresión encima y se llenó de ansiedad al darse cuenta de la situación en la que se encontraba. Nadie lo podía ver, nadie lo escuchaba. La soledad ahora parecía ser eterna y ya no tenía manera de librarse de ella porque ya estaba muerto. 

Corría por el sendero peatonal en medio de gente que parecía estar encerrada en su propio mundo. Caminaban mirando hacia abajo con el capote del abrigo en la cabeza y las manos metidas en los bolsillos de estos. El piso y la parte de abajo de las paredes de los condominios estaban llenos de polvo negro por el humo de los carros. El viento que soplaba arrastraba la basura de la ciudad por los aires.

En ese momento, comenzó a ver otros espíritus como el. Unos pasaban volando cerca de su cabeza con el sonido de una risa de ironía y placer, parecía que se estaban burlando de él. Al otro lado de la acera veía seres flotantes que se trasladaban sin pies. Y espíritus de ladrones y asesinos que aún merodeaban la calle.

Llegó al centro de la zona urbana donde estaban los edificios más altos y se sentó agotado en una banca de cemento a ver pasar a la gente que no lo podía ver. En eso, ve que una linda chica de cabello castaño se acerca y lo saluda con un, 

—Hola — mientras le estira la mano.

Entonces le pregunta extrañado con el ceño fruncido, —Disculpa, ¿Me estás hablando a mi?

—Si es a ti cariño, veo que eres nuevo por aquí, mucho gusto Brittany— él le estiro el brazo con el rostro petrificado y le dio la mano diciendo — Mucho gusto Erick, luego ella le dijo,

—Mira este es mi amigo Christopher— en ese instante llegó un chico; se puso al lado de ella y también me estiró la mano. Él lo saludo con la boca abierta y enseguida les pregunto tartamudeando —¿Ustedes pueden verme?

—Por supuesto que sí, y tú a nosotros, somos como tú. Estamos esperando nuestro momento para trascender igual que tú, todos trascenderemos. 

Erick puso una gran sonrisa en su cara al darse cuenta que ahora tenía compañía y… amigos, ellos también le sonrieron.

Corrieron por todas las calles de la ciudad sonriendo, se metían en los apartamentos y saltaban en los muebles y en las camas. Jugaban a las escondidas en las azoteas. Hasta que un día mientras corrían felices por una acera, de repente, se fueron desvaneciendo los tres al mismo tiempo. Sus almas fueron detectadas en otro planeta que estaba a millones años luz.

“Brittany Thompson era la mejor cantante de su escuela. Un día fue secuestrada y violada; la dejaron encerrada en un cuarto hasta que perdió la vida”.

“Christopher White era el chico más guapo de su escuela; todas las chicas se morían por él. Un día se fue de viaje con sus compañeros al mar y murió ahogado sin una explicación lógica de como; nunca encontraron su cuerpo”.

Y Erick Smith logró sanarse de la soledad.


The Curse of Endless Solitude and the Cosmic Awakening (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga


Erick was a boy graduating from high school. He was praised for being an outstanding student, earning top grades, and had already been admitted to university to start after the summer break. However, Elton, a classmate who hadn't fared as well due to a lack of mental sharpness, envied his success. He decided to ruin Erick's life without facing any legal consequences: he chose to destroy his triumph through witchcraft.

​Despite not being as academically bright as Erick, Elton’s family was wealthy. He used his connections to find a powerful dark sorcerer, made a large bank transfer, and the game of black magic began.

​The next day, when Erick arrived home, he found his parents arguing. He tilted his head back, stunned; he had never seen them fight like this. They were throwing things, smashing vases on the floor, and even tearing paintings off the walls. Finally, his father turned toward him with firm steps, a flushed face, and clenched fists.

​With trembling lips and raised eyebrows, Erick stammered, "Wait, Dad, what’s happening?" But his father simply gave him a violent shove, sending him falling onto the sofa. He walked out the door and never returned. His mother remained in her chair, weeping, and Erick could only hold her for comfort. Days later, she fell ill and passed away in less than a month.

​His parents had bought the house with a mortgage, and Erick’s savings weren't enough to cover it. He tried calling his father, but the phone was always off. Unable to pay, the house was foreclosed within months. He searched for other relatives for help, but for unknown reasons, they had all moved far away. None of his friends answered his calls or messages. He realized he was alone. The sorcerer’s curse was still at work.

​Erick only had enough money to rent a small room while looking for a part-time job. He headed to the city center, where the cheapest rooms were found. On the door of an ancient, worn-out building, he saw a sign: "ROOM FOR RENT." He didn't think twice and went inside.

​Days passed. He was running out of money for food and couldn't find work. A deep sense of loneliness invaded his soul, spiraling into severe depression. Unable to find a way out, he thought it was better to stop the suffering. The sorcerer’s curse was still at work.

​He went up to the rooftop and stood on the ledge overlooking the street. He opened his arms, and with tearful eyes, let himself fall forward. Tears streamed past his temples as he plummeted. Suddenly, he woke up startled in his bed. He thought it had all been a dream.

​However, the lack of food was still real. He told himself, "Even if I have to beg on the street, I won't give up." He went down and stepped out the back door into a crowded alley. He asked everyone passing by, "Can you spare a coin, please? It’s for food. Just a small coin, please."

​But it was as if everyone ignored him—or as if no one could see him. No one responded. Then, he saw a crowd gathering at the corner, whispering and moving toward the next street. Something was happening.

​Turning the corner, he saw people surrounding something in the middle of the road. He pushed through the crowd. A forensic transport vehicle was backing up. On the ground lay a body. His heart skipped a beat and his eyes filled with tears as he realized it was his own body, his own face.

​Erick began to sweat, looking around frantically, his face contorted in shock as they loaded his corpse into the van. He looked at his hands; they were transparent. What he thought was a dream had been real. He was now a wandering soul, still bound to the earthly plane.

​He ran back to the apartment building. It was swarming with police. The other tenants had been evicted. Yellow crime scene tape covered the entrance and his door. Officers were stuffing his clothes and belongings into black bags. He tried to grab them, but he simply passed through them. He was powerless.

​He went back to the street, devastated, breaking into a cold sweat. He ran along the boulevard, consumed by anxiety. No one could see him; no one could hear him. The loneliness now seemed eternal. He ran past people who seemed locked in their own worlds, walking with heads down, hoods over their heads, and hands buried in their pockets. The ground and the walls were coated in black dust from car exhaust. The wind whipped trash through the air.

​At that moment, he began to see other spirits. Some flew past his head with mocking, ironic laughter. On the other side of the street, he saw floating entities drifting without feet, and the ghosts of thieves and murderers still prowling the alleys.

​He reached the city center, where the tallest buildings stood, and sat exhausted on a cement bench, watching the people who couldn't see him. Suddenly, a beautiful girl with chestnut hair approached and greeted him. Confused and frowning, he asked, "Are you talking to me?"

​"Yes, I am, honey. I see you’re new here. I’m Brittany." Erick reached out with a petrified expression and shook her hand. "I’m Erick," he replied. Then she said, "Meet my friend Christopher." A boy appeared beside her and offered his hand. Erick shook it, mouth agape, stammering, "You... you can see me?"

​"Of course we can, and you can see us. We are like you; we are just waiting for our time to transcend. We all transcend."

​A wide smile spread across Erick’s face as he realized he finally had company... and friends. They smiled back. They ran through the city streets together, sneaking into apartments to jump on furniture and beds. They played hide-and-seek on rooftops. Until one day, while running happily along a sidewalk, all three began to fade at the same time. Their souls had been detected on another planet, millions of light-years away.

“Brittany Thompson was the best singer in her school. One day she was kidnapped and lost her life in captivity.”

​“Christopher White was the most handsome boy in his school. One day, during a trip to the sea, he drowned without a logical explanation; his body was never found.”

​And Erick Smith finally healed from his loneliness.

martes, 31 de marzo de 2026

​Elkin: El Sastre de la Torre (Cuento Corto)

 


​Elkin era un sastre que acababa de mudarse al pueblo de Mirkal. Sin embargo, su nueva casa era demasiado pequeña y no tenía espacio para montar su taller. Decidido a no detener su oficio, buscó un lugar económico para rentar por todo el pueblo, pero los precios eran elevados: 400 o 500 perlas por habitación. Elkin no sabía qué hacer, pues no contaba con semejante cantidad.

​Una mujer del pueblo, al notar su angustia, se le acercó y le ofreció una habitación a un precio increíble, aunque en una ubicación peculiar. Señaló hacia las afueras, donde, en medio de la espesura del bosque, se alzaba una vieja torre gris.

​—En la cima hay un cuarto lo suficientemente grande para tu trabajo. Solo te cobraré 150 perlas —le dijo.

​Elkin, feliz al encontrar algo acorde a su presupuesto, le entregó el dinero de inmediato. Al cerrar el trato, la mujer mostró una sonrisa pícara y misteriosa que el sastre no alcanzó a notar. Sin perder tiempo, Elkin recogió sus telas, hilos, agujas y sus máquinas de coser, metió todo en una gran bolsa de lienzo y emprendió el camino.

​Antes de internarse en la arboleda, un vecino lo detuvo:

—Vecino, tenga cuidado. Nadie entra allí. Se dice que hay un maleficio rondando tras los troncos; una presencia que no tolera invasores y usa la naturaleza para atentar contra el alma.

​—Tranquilo —respondió el sastre con una sonrisa—. Solo voy a trabajar en la torre. La renté a muy buen precio.

​El vecino negó con la cabeza, cerrando los ojos con resignación mientras murmuraba:

—De nuevo esa vieja malvada engañando a los nuevos... espero que este no termine igual.

​Elkin llegó a la torre en pocos minutos. Era una estructura antigua, desgastada pero firme, rodeada por un pequeño claro de pasto verde. Subió las polvorientas escaleras de concreto y quedó maravillado al ver el espacio. Tenía una ventana frontal con vista al pueblo y una posterior que daba al bosque. Limpió el lugar, instaló sus máquinas frente a la ventana del bosque y comenzó su labor.

​Al atardecer, un ser fantasmal y oscuro que se había apropiado de aquel territorio detectó su presencia. Aquel "maleficio" se sintió profundamente ofendido por la invasión y decidió acabar con el hombre. Usando su habilidad para controlar la naturaleza, desató un feroz huracán que avanzó a gran velocidad hacia la torre. Sin embargo, a mitad de camino, el remolino perdió fuerza inexplicablemente.

​Justo antes de que el viento golpeara la estructura, Elkin se levantó, recogió sus cosas, cerró las ventanas y bajó con calma de regreso al pueblo. El sastre ni siquiera notó el fenómeno; el viento simplemente atravesó la piedra y se desvaneció. El ser oscuro rugió de ira, confundido por la falta de potencia de su ataque.

​Al día siguiente, el espectro intentó lanzar varios tornados simultáneos, pero estos se desviaban misteriosamente antes de tocar la torre, llegando apenas a levantar algunos tejados en las orillas de Mirkal. Elkin, ajeno a todo, terminó su jornada y regresó a casa para cenar con su familia.

​Pasaron los días y el negocio de Elkin prosperó; ya vendía camisas y pantalones con éxito en el mercado. El ente fantasmal, desesperado, invocó una tormenta eléctrica para que un rayo fulminara al sastre a través de la ventana. Pero cada relámpago rebotaba contra un escudo invisible, cayendo de vuelta al bosque y casi electrocutando al propio espectro, quien los esquivaba con el rostro arrugado por el pánico. Intentó incluso provocar un terremoto para derribar la torre y esta se trayera consigo al hombre invasor, pero el epicentro se desplazó solo hacia el pueblo. La gente se aturdió pero el fenómeno perdio tanta fuerza que apenas fue un leve temblor que no causó daños.

​Finalmente, el ser oscuro decidió atacar con sus propias manos. Intento cruzar el campo que rodeaba la torre, pero cuando iba por la mitad este se convirtió en un area magnética. Avanzaba con dificultad en cámara lenta y rechinando los dientes. Al llegar a la puerta, intentó derribarla de una patada, pero el impacto se le devolvió con tal violencia que salió disparado por los aires hasta el fondo del bosque.

​En un último intento de frustración, el espectro usó un hilo de magia para romper la aguja de Elkin, enredar sus hilos y tirar sus telas al suelo. El sastre simplemente reemplazó la aguja, desenredó los hilos, recogió sus telas con paciencia y siguió trabajando.

​Derrotado y resignado, el cuerpo negro decidió abandonar la zona y adentrarse en el bosque para no nunca mas volver. El negocio de Elkin siguió dando frutos y, cada vez que le llevaba el dinero del arriendo a la mujer, ella lo miraba con los ojos entrecerrados y las mejillas caídas, sin poder creer que siguiera vivo.

​Y es que, cuando eres una persona de corazón limpio que no hace daño a nadie, el destino se convierte en tu protector, permitiéndote vivir en paz y felicidad con tu familia por siempre.



​Elkin: The Tailor of the Tower (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 


​Elkin was a tailor who had just moved to his new home in the village of Mirkal. However, the house was very small and had no room to set up his garment workshop. So, he decided to look for an affordable place to rent. He searched all over the village, but the prices for rooms were very high—500, 400 pearls. He didn’t know what to do, as he didn’t have enough to pay such amounts.

​However, a woman noticed what was happening to him, so she approached him and offered an affordable room she had available, but it was located in a peculiar spot. She pointed toward the outskirts of the village, to the forest, and in the middle of it, a tall gray tower could be seen, not very far away.

​"At the top, there is a room large enough for you to do your work. I will only charge you 150 pearls."

​Elkin was very happy to find a place that fit his budget and immediately handed over the money and shook the lady’s hand. However, for some reason, she smirked with a mischievous smile.

​The man quickly went home, gathered his fabrics, threads, and needles that were piled in a corner, along with his sewing machines. He put them in a large canvas bag and set off toward the tower.

​Before entering the woods, a neighbor who saw him heading that way called out to him and said:

​"Neighbor, excuse me, be careful about stepping into that forest. No one goes in there anymore. They say there’s a curse wandering behind the trunks that doesn’t like trespassers, and it can use nature to strike at your soul."

​"Don't worry, I’m just going to work in the tower over there. A lady rented it to me at a very good price," the tailor replied and continued on his way, his mind focused and a smile on his face.

​"There goes that wicked old woman again, tricking the new residents with the tower. I hope this one doesn’t end up like the others," the neighbor said, shaking his head, eyes closed and lips pursed.

​Elkin moved through the trees with ease, and in less than five minutes, he was standing in front of the tower. It looked very old, worn out but steady. It was also surrounded by a small field of green grass.

​Without hesitation, he entered through the wooden door that was broken at the sides and climbed the dusty concrete stairs. Upon reaching the room, he was marveled by how spacious it was. It had a front window overlooking the village and a back window overlooking the forest. He dusted and swept the place, immediately set up his sewing machines in front of the back window, and got to work.

​At sunset, when it was almost night, deep in the forest, there was a being that had already sensed the tailor's presence in the tower. The individual was a dark, ghostly being that prowled that territory and had claimed it as his own. He was offended to see his land invaded by that man; he was the curse the neighbor had referred to, and he was prepared to finish him for crossing his border.

​The dark body had the ability to control nature for malevolent purposes, so to begin, he caused a fierce hurricane to form in the middle of the forest and head at great speed toward the tower. As soon as the whirlwind formed, it began to advance, but when it was halfway there, it began to slow down. The black being found this strange but kept pushing forward.

​When it was just a few meters from reaching the tower, Elkin stood up from his chair, gathered his things, closed the windows, and headed down the stairs back to the village.

​Elkin the tailor didn’t even notice the presence of the hurricane. When it reached its destination, it simply passed through the tower and vanished on the other side. The ghostly being was filled with rage because he didn't understand why his air attack had lost speed.

​The next day, Elkin returned to the tower to continue his work, and the dark individual, out of wrath, created several hurricanes in the air and directed them toward him. But for some reason, they veered off long before reaching the tower; fortunately, they didn't head toward the village either, though they did manage to tear off some roofs from houses on the outskirts. The day concluded in the same way: Elkin went home to sleep with his family.

​Days passed and the laborer kept working, and he was already selling the shirts and pants he made on weekends in the town center.

​This time, the ghostly body caused a violent electrical storm to form around the tower so that a lightning bolt would enter through the window and electrocute him. But for some reason, every time a thunderbolt tried to enter and strike, it crashed against an invisible shield, bounced off, and fell into the forest. In fact, some stray lightning bolts were about to hit the dark being and electrocute him; he dodged them with his face stretched and wrinkled several times.

​He tried to cause an earthquake in the area where the tower stood so it would collapse and take the tailor with it. But again, for no logical reason to the black body, the execution point of the quake he had marked changed position and headed toward Mirkal. The people of the village were dismayed to feel the sudden movement of the earth, but luckily, it caused no structural damage; likewise, the force of the earthquake had diminished.

​The wicked ghost, now stressed, with wrinkled skin and hair standing on end, decided to go finish the man Elkin once and for all with his own hands, pushing him from the top of the tower. He reached the field surrounding the tower and headed for the entrance, but when he was halfway there, he felt a magnetic force that made it difficult to move forward. However, with all his strength, he kept advancing in slow motion, grinding his teeth.

​When he finally stood in front of the wooden door, he proceeded to kick the door down, but the impact was reflected back, producing a great blow and sending him flying into the forest, outside the field.

​Immediately, the dark being stood up and made one last attempt. He pointed his hand at the window and broke the needle the tailor was sewing with. Seeing that this worked, he tangled all the threads in his basket and then sent a great current of air inside the room, knocking all his fabrics to the floor, some falling on top of him.

​However, Elkin replaced the needle, untangled the threads, picked up the fabrics, and continued with his work.

​The black body resigned himself, seeing that he could not destroy him. So, he decided to retreat into the depths of the forest and leave the area forever.

​Elkin the tailor's business continued to bear fruit; he sold more and more clothes in the town center, and the woman who rented him the tower always watched him with squinted eyes and fallen cheeks whenever he brought her the rent money.

​When you are a person with a clean heart who has never harmed anyone, destiny protects you, and you can live happily with your family forever.



miércoles, 25 de marzo de 2026

El Ogro de los Techos y los Mellizos de Striva (Cuento Corto)

 

​El pequeño pueblo mágico de Striva estaba en plenas elecciones. Los candidatos en contienda eran el Ángel de Cristal, que buscaba un trato humano para el pueblo, y el Ser de Piedra de Lava, que quería que la población trabajara con mano dura. Toda la gente mágica estaba terminando de votar en el centro de la ciudad; pero en un momento la votación se congeló: iban 10.001 a 10.002, ganando el Ser de Piedra.

​Los simpatizantes del Ángel de Cristal miraban para todos lados con caras arrugadas y gotas de sudor en la frente, buscando quién faltaba por votar.

Stephany y Stiward eran dos hermanos mellizos que también apoyaban al Ángel. Stiward, en ese momento, veía las noticias a través de su pantalla de luz flotante. Al ver los resultados, abrió la boca y corrió a buscar a su hermana a su cuarto. Cuando volvió con ella a la sala, esta abrió los ojos de par en par al ver el holograma. Inmediatamente decidió contactar a su prima por la misma pantalla para que les enviara un pequeño carruaje que los pudiera llevar al centro.

​De lo que no se dieron cuenta fue de que había un Ogro de los Techos mirándolos por la ventana. Este, trabajaba para el Ser de Lava, e iba a hacer que, a toda costa, ellos no llegaran a votar a tiempo para que su líder ganara la gobernación del pueblo.

​—Hola, Sofía. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Nos puedes contratar un carruaje para que nos lleve al centro de Striva a votar?

—Sí, claro, ya se los envío.

​Justo al desconectarse, a Sofía le entró otra llamada: era el Ogro de los Techos. Este le ofreció vestidos y joyas para que retrasara el envío del carruaje. Sofía enseguida se imaginó con las esmeraldas brillando en su pecho y sus brazos, mientras se media los hermosos vestidos en el espejo, así que aceptó por avaricia. Se comunicó con el cochero y canceló el viaje.

​Pasaron cinco minutos y no veían llegar ningún carruaje. Eran casi las 3:30 p.m.; las votaciones cerraban a las 4:00 p.m. y ellos estaban en la frontera de la ciudad. Volvieron a llamar a su prima:

—Sofía, no ha llegado ningún carruaje, no vamos a poder votar a tiempo.

—Disculpen, es que el cochero tuvo que recoger a otra persona, pero ya va en camino.

​Apagaron la luz flotante y siguieron esperando. Sin embargo, pasaron tres minutos más y nada. Así que decidieron no perder más tiempo y salieron a la calle. Al llegar a la esquina, comenzaron a esperar un transporte. Normalmente no demoraban mucho, pero esta vez, por una extraña razón, todos pasaban llenos. Era raro, pues su zona no era tan poblada como el centro.

​De repente, se detuvo un carruaje conducido por un señor que desconocían, pero Stephany tenía el presentimiento de haberlo visto en el grupo del Ángel de Cristal. Él los miró con una gran sonrisa:

—Apuesto a que se dirigen al centro. Súbanse, yo los llevo.

​Los chicos subieron y el viaje comenzó. De pronto, el carruaje lo detuvo un embotellamiento. Era algo inaudito en Striva, pues no había sobrepoblación de vehículos, pero precisamente ese día estaba sucediendo. Solo escuchaban el sonido de los cascos de los caballos golpeando el suelo con desespero mientras relinchaban, lo que los llenó de ansiedad.

​Lo que no sabían era que el ogro los monitoreaba desde un techo con su propio holograma; él era el causante de los retrasos mediante un hechizo. Pero, en un parpadeo, una luz sobre la calle empezó a brillar. El tráfico comenzó a avanzar rápidamente y en poco tiempo el flujo vehicular se normalizó. De repente, el ogro, se estresó, al buscar por todos lados y ver que el punto de ubicación de los mellizos había desaparecido de su pantalla.

​Llegaron al centro con menos de un minuto de margen. Stiward le entregó unas monedas brillantes del tono mágico de Striva al señor y corrieron a las urnas. La gente los miraba en silencio, con sus caras estiradas ya que no estaban seguros que estaba pasando. Marcaron los tarjetones sobre la cara del ángel y los depositaron segundos antes del cierre.

​En ese instante, el punto volvió al holograma del ogro, marcando la ubicación de las urnas y este se puso rojo y apretó los dientes. El conteo se actualizó: 10.003 para el Ángel de Cristal y 10.002 para el Ser de Piedra. ¡Ganó el Ángel!

​Una enorme euforia estalló entre los votantes. Los mellizos se fundieron en abrazos con la multitud. El Ser de Piedra se desvaneció en el aire, mientras los Ogros de los Techos se estiraron en luz y se elevaron.

​Al terminar la celebración, el misterioso cochero volvió a aparecer frente a ellos: —¿Los llevo? Y ellos lo miraron con una gran sonrisa. Sofía, la prima, fue capturada por el nuevo gobierno por haber sido cómplice del mal. Stephany y Stiward hicieron una gran cena en su patio con sus amigos y vivieron con humanidad por mucho tiempo.

The Rooftop Ogre and the Twins of Striva (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 


The small magical town of Striva was in the midst of an election. The candidates in the race were the Crystal Angel, who sought humane treatment for the people, and the Lava Stone Being, who wanted the population to work with an iron fist. All the magical folk were finishing their voting in the city center; but at one point, the count froze: it was 10,001 to 10,002, with the Stone Being in the lead.

​The Crystal Angel’s supporters looked everywhere with worried faces and beads of sweat on their foreheads, searching for whoever was still left to vote. Stephany and Stiward were twins who also supported the Angel. At that moment, Stiward was watching the news on his floating light screen. Seeing the results, his jaw dropped, and he rushed to find his sister in her room. When he returned with her to the living room, her eyes widened at the sight of the hologram. She immediately decided to contact her cousin through the same screen to request a small carriage to take them to the center.

​What they didn't realize was that a Rooftop Ogre was watching them through the window. He worked for the Lava Being and was determined to ensure, at all costs, that they wouldn't arrive in time to vote, so his leader could win the town’s governorship.

​"Hi, Sofia. How are you? Can you hire a carriage to take us to Striva’s center to vote?"

"Yes, of course, I'll send one right away."

​Just after hanging up, Sofia received another call: it was the Rooftop Ogre. He offered her dresses and jewelry to delay the carriage. Sofia immediately imagined herself with emeralds shining on her chest and arms while trying on beautiful dresses in the mirror, so she accepted out of greed. She contacted the driver and canceled the trip.

​Five minutes passed, and they saw no carriage arriving. It was nearly 3:30 p.m.; the polls closed at 4:00 p.m., and they were at the edge of the city. They called their cousin again:

"Sofia, no carriage has arrived; we won't be able to vote in time."

"I'm sorry, the driver had to pick someone else up, but he's on his way to your house."

​They turned off the light screen and kept waiting. However, three more minutes passed, and still nothing. They decided not to waste any more time and headed out to the street. Reaching the corner, they began waiting for transport. Usually, they didn't wait long, but this time, for some strange reason, every carriage passed by full. It was odd, as their area was not as populated as the center.

​Suddenly, a carriage pulled up, driven by a man they didn't know, but Stephany had a hunch she had seen him among the Crystal Angel’s group. He looked at them with a wide smile:

"I bet you're heading to the center. Hop in, I'll take you."

​The youths got in, and the journey began. Suddenly, the carriage was stopped by a traffic jam. This was unheard of in Striva, as there was no overpopulation of vehicles, but it was happening precisely on that day of haste. They could only hear the sound of horses' hooves striking the ground in desperation as they neighed, filling them with anxiety.

​What they didn't know was that the ogre was monitoring them from a rooftop with his own hologram; he was the cause of the delays through a spell. But in a blink, a light began to shine over the street. Traffic started moving quickly, and in no time, the flow normalized. Suddenly, the ogre became stressed, searching everywhere only to see that the twins' location marker had vanished from his screen.

​They reached the center with less than a minute to spare. Stiward handed the man some glowing coins in Striva’s magical hue, and they sprinted toward the polls. People watched them in silence, their faces tense as they weren't sure what was happening. They marked their ballots over the Angel's face and dropped them into the boxes seconds before the deadline.

​At that instant, the marker reappeared on the ogre's hologram, showing the location of the polls; he turned red and clenched his teeth. The tally updated: 10,003 for the Crystal Angel and 10,002 for the Lava Stone Being. The Angel won!

​A massive euphoria erupted among the voters. The twins embraced the crowd. The Stone Being vanished into thin air, while the Rooftop Ogres stretched into beams of light and ascended.

​Once the celebration ended, the mysterious driver appeared before them again: "Need a lift?" and they looked at him with a great smile. Sofia, the cousin, was captured by the new government for being an accomplice to evil. Stephany and Stiward held a grand dinner in their backyard with their friends and lived with humanity for a long time.

miércoles, 4 de marzo de 2026

Arthur: The Terrorist’s Soul-Slayer (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 


In the late 90s, James lived in the small town of Bolton, located in a corner of the northern coast where the heat of the Magda River blended with the military dread that drifted down from the Maria Mountains.

​At that time, the town was a war zone; the shadows of terrorist groups moved through the wilderness, imposing a law of silence that could be felt even in the air one breathed.

​James had an uncle named Arthur, a blurred figure in his memory. He had only seen his face in photographs, for when Arthur disappeared at the height of the armed conflict, James was just a child playing in the yard. However, his uncle's name lingered in the house like a foul odor that no one wanted to clean.

​Through fragmented conversations and phrases dropped by his family, James had gathered that his uncle Arthur had not died as an innocent victim. Rumors said that Arthur had become involved with one of those subversive groups, but his end did not come from an enemy bullet. He had been killed by his own illegal militants in the heart of the jungle, for internal reasons that the family seemingly preferred to keep under lock and key—perhaps out of a shame that weighed heavier than grief.

​But Arthur's stain ran deeper. James knew his uncle had been no saint. He had also heard stories about one of his cousins. The mere mention of Arthur's name was enough to transform her face, shifting from hatred to terror and back again in a second. Apparently, an act or an attempted sexual assault had been perpetrated by him against her. Everything James knew, he had simply overheard from his surroundings; the elders always kept their lips sealed.

​One early morning, while the town slept under the watch of the crickets, James woke up feeling as though someone had crossed the entrance to his room. Lying on his side, with his eyes half-open, he heard a voice that did not belong to the present. A man's voice, mature and dry, which pronounced with terrifying clarity both his first and middle names together:

​—“James Andruw,” it whispered.

​James froze. No one at home called him that; to everyone, he was simply James.

​James turned over, but he saw only shadow in the absolute darkness. He felt a cold that didn't come from the river breeze, but rather one that was born deep within his bones. Right then, he remembered what the old women in town used to say: “If you answer the invisible, you bind yourself to its sorrow.” So, he simply squeezed his eyes shut and curled into himself, seeking refuge beneath his sheets. The silence that followed was so heavy that he could almost hear the beating of his own heart thumping against the mattress.

​That call came from the blood, from a past that refused to die and that, from the lower astral plane, sought a witness to return the existence that sin and evil had stripped away.

viernes, 27 de febrero de 2026

Nahual: El Perro de Humo (Cuento Corto)


Una madrugada William despertó en la oscuridad, después de una pesadilla de la que ya no recuerda. En eso, miró para el borde de la cama y vio una oscuridad más espesa. El joven estaba acostado junto a la pared, así que estaba algo lejos. Pero cuando divisó bien, vio que se trataba de un animal: era un perro negro que no era muy grande.

​En su casa él no tenía perro, tan solo tenía un gato pequeño, así que le pareció imposible. El sabueso estaba inclinado en la cama solo con las patas delanteras puestas en el borde del colchón.

​Observándolo bien, se dio cuenta de que no se trataba de un perro real; era como una nube de humo. Detallándolo con precisión, el animal tenía puesta una camiseta como de un equipo de fútbol de rayas negras y rojas oscuras y una gorra negra al revés. Pero lo más espeluznante era que tenía rasgos humanos en varios lados de su cara que él no podía describir bien. Tenía como un bulto en la zona de uno de sus ojos y no tenía hocico. Él solo veía que tenía unos cachetes estirados, pero no podía ver si tampoco tenía boca.

​A pesar de eso, él no le tuvo miedo, ya que desde su niñez ha tenido experiencias paranormales y ha visto seres fantasmagóricos. Por eso, él sabía que ellos siempre estaban por ahí, así que se lo quedó mirando fijamente.

​Normalmente, las entidades oscuras cuando se manifiestan se desaparecen apenas volteas a verlas. Pero en este caso, esta no hizo eso. Se quedó ahí mirándolo como esperando a que se impresionara, pero él lo siguió viendo con determinación y se preguntaba en la mente: ¿Y este por qué no ha desaparecido si lo estoy mirando? ¿Por qué no actúa como los demás?

​Sin embargo, William no sabía si el espíritu había escuchado lo que estaba pensando, o como vio que no se estaba asustando y no tenía energía que absorber, a los tres o cuatro segundos se desvaneció.

​Un Nahual es un brujo o chamán que tiene la capacidad de proyectar su espíritu y, a veces, su cuerpo en la forma de un animal. Eso era lo que había visitado a William esa noche. Por alguna razón se le había aparecido en esa forma.

​Una semana después, William se volvió a despertar a medianoche, pero esta vez el perro de neblina estaba montado en la cama encima de él. El joven tenía la cabeza de medio lado y el perro se la estaba pisando con tanta fuerza que ni podía moverla. A pesar de no ser de carne y hueso, William podía sentir la presión y el pelaje del animal. Y a su vez, sentía la rabia que le estaba transmitiendo, pero a los pocos segundos igual desapareció y lo dejó moverse. William respiraba rápido por la boca, como si se estuviera ahogando.

​No sabía qué pudiera estar enojando tanto al animal, o al brujo, para que se le apareciera tan constantemente.

​Pasaron alrededor de 15 días, y una noche cuando recién se había acostado para dormirse de medio lado, empezó a sentir una energía fuerte y ardiente en el aire, no muy lejos de él. Como William ya había tenido experiencias, sabía que esa era la sensación de un ente oscuro, así que empezó a rezar.

​Apenas empezó, sintió que algo vino por detrás y se le montó encima, entre la cabeza y la espalda, como para evitar que lo hiciera. Él, a su vez, estaba dispuesto esta vez a defenderse. Sin embargo, este lo mantuvo tan presionado que William no podía moverse ni un centímetro; se sentía mucho más pesado que una roca enorme.

​Por alguna razón, el perro ese día era mucho más grande y en su mente podía ver que esta vez tenía el pelaje más oscuro. A los pocos segundos, el sabueso se le quitó de encima volando hacia arriba. Lo que el ente no sabía era que, desde la última vez que se le apareció, William había guardado una hacha pequeña debajo de su almohada. Así que, con agilidad, la sacó y dio un gran golpe en el aire, alcanzando a atravesar el cuerpo de humo del animal.

​A la mañana siguiente, el sonido de una ambulancia despertó a William. Se asomó por la ventana y vio a mucha gente alrededor de una casa cercana. Los enfermeros traían en la camilla a un vecino suyo, un hombre que siempre pasaba por la casa del joven y lo miraba con la cara arrugada y una mirada profunda, solo porque William era feliz. El hombre tenía una herida muy larga y profunda en el estómago.

Nahual: The Smoke Dog (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

​Early one morning, William woke up in the darkness following a nightmare he could no longer remember. As he glanced toward the edge of the bed, he noticed a thickness in the shadows—a darkness denser than the rest. He was lying against the wall, so there was some distance between them, but as his eyes adjusted, he realized it was an animal: a black dog, not very large.

​There was no dog in his house, only a small cat, so the sight seemed impossible. The hound was leaning against the bed, its front paws resting on the edge of the mattress.

​Looking closer, William realized it wasn't a real dog; it was like a cloud of smoke. Observing it with precision, he saw the animal was wearing a soccer jersey with dark red and black stripes and a black cap turned backward. But most chilling of all were the human features scattered across its face, which he found difficult to describe. There was a bulge near one of its eyes, and it had no snout. He could only see stretched cheeks, though he couldn't tell if it even had a mouth.

​Despite this, he felt no fear. Since childhood, William had experienced paranormal events and seen ghostly beings. He knew they were always around, so he simply stared back at it, unflinching.

​Usually, dark entities vanish the moment you look at them. But this one didn't. It stayed there, staring, as if waiting for him to be terrified. William continued to watch it with determination, wondering: Why hasn't this one disappeared? Why isn't it acting like the others?

​Whether the spirit heard his thoughts or realized it couldn't absorb any energy from his lack of fear, it eventually faded away after three or four seconds.

​A Nahual is a sorcerer or shaman with the ability to project their spirit—and sometimes their body—into the form of an animal. That was what had visited William that night. For some reason, it had appeared to him in that shape.

​A week later, William woke up again in the middle of the night. This time, the mist-dog was on the bed, on top of him.

​The young man’s head was turned to the side, and the dog was stepping on it with such force that he couldn't move. Despite the creature not being made of flesh and bone, William could feel the pressure and the texture of the black fur. He could also sense a wave of pure rage radiating from it. After a few seconds, it vanished again, allowing him to move. William breathed heavily through his mouth, gasping as if he had been suffocating.

​He had no idea what could be angering the animal—or the sorcerer—so much that it would appear so persistently.

​About fifteen days passed. One night, just as he had lied down to sleep on his side, he felt a heavy, burning energy in the air nearby. Having been through this before, William knew the sensation of a dark entity, and he began to pray.

​The moment he started, he felt something lunging from behind, pinning him down between his head and his back to stop him. This time, William was ready to defend himself; he wanted to land a blow on the shaggy specter. However, the pressure was so intense he couldn't move an inch—it felt heavier than a massive boulder.

​For some reason, the dog seemed much larger that day, and in his mind’s eye, he could see its fur was even darker. After a few seconds, the hound suddenly flew upward, releasing him. What the entity didn't know was that, since the last visit, William had kept a hand axe hidden under his pillow. With a swift motion, he pulled it out and delivered a powerful strike through the air, slicing through the animal’s body of smoke.

​The next morning, the sound of an ambulance woke William. He looked out the window and saw a crowd gathered around a nearby house. Paramedics were carrying out a neighbor on a stretcher. He was a man who always passed by William's house, scowling at him with a deep, furrowed gaze—simply because William was happy. The man had a long, deep gash across his stomach.

miércoles, 25 de febrero de 2026

The Boy’s Deliverance Room (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 


Mattiuw was a six-year-old boy who got sick very often. At that age, he didn’t count the episodes, but his mother told him it happened weekly. A friend of hers, without knowing exactly why, recommended she take him to a private "doctor" she knew. The place wasn’t very close, but it was within walking distance, so Mattiuw, thinking he was going to see a "normal" doctor, went along with them.

​Upon arriving at the medical center, it looked like any other. It had a waiting room and consultation offices. The boy looked pale and had a vacant stare, so when the "doctor" saw him from a distance, he told his mother, —He has something— but it wasn't natural.

​The "doctor" guided them toward a small room at the end of the hallway. Unlike the rest of the building, this room was completely empty, and the noise of the cars passing along the boulevard could not be heard. Mattiuw didn’t know what they were going to do, but he simply let himself be guided. Following the man's instructions, the four of them —the doctor, his mother, the friend, and the boy— held hands, forming a circle.

​—Close your eyes —the man ordered in a deep voice.

​The doctor began to recite a prayer; the words seemed to vibrate in the air. Suddenly, a strange sensation ran through the boy's body. It wasn't pain, but a stretching feeling, as if something that didn't belong to him was trying to cling to his bones one last time.

​Suddenly, Mattiuw felt a violent detachment. Something shot out from his shoulder, right on the side where his mother was holding him. Opening his eyes for a split second, he saw the impossible: a streak of transparent smoke, dense and fast, which dissipated into the air before touching the ceiling.

​The silence that followed was absolute. Mattiuw blinked and, for the first time in months, the world regained its color. The paleness vanished from his face, and the heaviness in his eyelids faded away.

​The most curious thing about that encounter wasn't the smoke or the mysterious office, but what happened afterward: from that precise moment, that boy who used to get sick every week didn't catch a single cold for years. Something had left that room, and Mattiuw was finally free.

Why did that deity attack him? How did the friend know that this was the treatment he needed? These are questions that only the future will reveal.

sábado, 21 de febrero de 2026

Louis: El Karma del Pueblo de Brishman (Cuento Corto)

 


Louis era un chico de 16 años que vivía con sus tíos y de sus primos en una gran casa de madera en un pueblo antiguo. Estos, lo trataban como su sirviente y su esclavo. Era el que limpiaba la casa y les traía todo lo que se les antojaba. La tía era la que cocinaba, pero a él le daba una miserablesa de comida y lo tenía muy delgado con prendas de vestir desgastadas. Por su parte, los miembros de la familia Johnson le gritaban, lo insultaban y lo humillaban. 

Un día, Louis se cansó de vivir en esa situación y decidió escaparse de la casa. Se voló por la ventana del segundo piso y cayo de rodillas en la calle arenosa. Sin embargo, sus tíos que tenían el control de la vivienda y siempre estaban pendientes de todo lo que pasaba, se dieron cuenta.

Inmediatamente, le dijeron a la vecina de al lado por la ventana que daba a su casa, que les informara a todos los vecinos del pueblo que cerraran sus puertas y no lo dejaran entrar. El chisme se fue corriendo de casa en casa, ventana por ventana, por los patios, a través de sus teléfonos giratorios y todas las casas del pueblo de Brishman cerraron sus puertas.

Louis fue caminando por las calles pidiendo ayuda, 

—¡Ayuda! ¡Ayuda! Me están maltratando.

Pero era como si nadie escuchara, se había convertido en un pueblo fantasma donde solo se escuchaba el sonido de las ráfagas del viento. Tocaba la puerta de muchas casas, pero en ninguna respondían.

Hasta que llego a una taberna, donde la puerta era transparente y decidió girar la perilla, pero estaba atascada. Adentro solo se veía un grupo de hombres hablando y riéndose con grandes vasos de cerveza en las manos. Louis toco y toco la puerta con ambas manos medio sudando con la cara arrugada, pero era como si no lo escucharan o lo estuvieran ignorando.

El joven decidió seguir su camino y más adelante se encontró con la tienda donde a veces lo habían mandado a comprar, pero esa vez tenía las puertas metálicas abajo. Agacho la cabeza con los ojos llorosos y siguió su camino.

Ya estaba llegando a la salida del pueblo que venía seguida de un gran desierto polvoriento y caliente. Ya Louis no sabía que hacer, lagrimas corrían por sus mejillas por el rechazo que estaba viviendo y por el hecho de pensar que tenía que volver a la casa de sus tíos donde iba a seguir sufriendo.

A pesar de eso, cuando llego a la salida del pueblo, vio que ahí había un viejo hombre de barba blanca y larga de pie. Se le acerco corriendo con ansias aun con lágrimas en sus ojos y le dijo, —Disculpe señor, no sé quién es usted, pero necesito alguien que me ayude, no sé si usted lo pueda hacer, es a la primera persona que hoy he visto en las calles del pueblo.

El enseguida se inclinó un poco hacia él y le dijo, —Todo el pueblo sabe cómo te tratan, pero tranquilo yo no soy como los demás, tienes un corazón tan noble que no mereces vivir de la forma tan cruel con la que te están haciendo vivir. Ven vamos, confía en mí, te llevare a un lugar mejor donde serás muy feliz, toma mi mano.

Louis veía que la túnica blanca con la que estaba vestida el señor brillaba y eso le transmitía paz y confianza. El joven tomo su mano y este se lo llevo caminando fuera del pueblo, a través del desierto y desaparecieron detrás de una nube de arena.

Con el pasar de los días, la temperatura de Brishman empezó a aumentar súbitamente, era como si estuvieran en el propio desierto y la atmósfera del lugar se tornó pesada. Ahi, los vecinos se dieron cuenta de que Louis ya no estaba, había logrado marcharse. 

Se comenzaron a escuchar todo el tiempo discusiones en la casa de los Johnson, dia tras día, veían por sus ventanas que cada vez había menos gente, pero nunca vieron a nadie salir de la casa. Hasta que llego el punto en que los gritos cesaron y la vivienda quedo sola. Con el tiempo se fue deteriorando y a veces se escuchaban los mismos gritos en la madrugada.

En el interior de la taberna, solo se veía a los hombres que una vez reían con la cerveza en la mano, esta vez. golpeando la puerta de entrada que le habían bloqueado a Louis. Tenían la piel arrugada, la boca y los ojos que parecían que se les fueran salir, su cuerpo se veía petrificado, ya que todas las entradas del lugar parecían hacer sido soldadas en hierro, no abrían de ninguna forma, estaban encerrados. 

La gente afuera solo los veía con los labios caídos y los ojos arrugados. Mientras que las persianas metálicas de la tienda nunca volvieron a su subir. No salía ni un silbido de ahí.

Nubes grises se apoderaron del cielo, todos los vecinos se encerraron en sus casas y se ocultaron temblando en un rincón, se dieron que no le pueden hacer daño a una persona inocente ya que en cualquier momento un rayo podía caer.

Louis: The Karma of Brishman Town (Short Story) by Hanner Goenaga

 


​Louis was a 16-year-old boy who lived with his aunts, uncles, and cousins in a large wooden house in an ancient town. They treated him like a servant and a slave. He was the one who cleaned the house and brought them everything they craved. The aunt did the cooking, but she gave him a miserable amount of food, keeping him very thin and dressed in worn-out clothes. For their part, the members of the Johnson family would yell at him, insult him, and humiliate him.

​One day, Louis grew tired of living in that situation and decided to escape. He jumped out of the second-floor window and landed on his knees in the sandy street. However, his uncles, who controlled the household and were always watchful of everything that happened, noticed immediately.

​Right away, they shouted through the window to the next-door neighbor, telling her to inform everyone in town to lock their doors and not let him in. The gossip spread from house to house, window to window, through backyards, and across their rotary phones. Every house in the town of Brishman closed its doors.

​Louis walked through the streets crying for help.

​—"Help! Help! They are mistreating me!"

​But it was as if no one heard; the town had become a ghost town where only the sound of wind gusts could be heard. He knocked on the doors of several houses, but no one answered.

​Eventually, he reached a tavern where the door was transparent. He decided to turn the knob, but it was stuck. Inside, he could see a group of men talking and laughing with large glasses of beer in their hands. Louis knocked and knocked on the door with both hands, sweating and with a furrowed brow, but it was as if they couldn't hear him—or were simply ignoring him.

​The young man decided to continue his way, and further ahead, he came across the shop where he had sometimes been sent to buy supplies, but this time, the metal shutters were down. He lowered his head with tearful eyes and kept walking.

​He was reaching the edge of town, followed by a vast, dusty, and hot desert. Louis didn't know what to do; tears ran down his cheeks because of the rejection he was experiencing and the thought that he would have to return to his uncles' house, where he would continue to suffer.

​Despite this, when he reached the exit of the town, he saw an old man with a long white beard standing there. Louis ran to him anxiously, still with tears in his eyes, and said:

​—"Excuse me, sir, I don't know who you are, but I need someone to help me. I don't know if you can, but you are the first person I've seen in the streets today."

​The man immediately leaned toward him and said:

​—"The whole town knows how they treat you, but don't worry, I am not like the others. You have a heart so noble that you do not deserve to live in such a cruel way. Come, walk with me, trust me. I will take you to a better place where you will be very happy. Take my hand."

​Louis saw that the white robe the man was wearing was glowing, and it gave him peace and confidence. The young man took his hand, and the man led him out of town, across the desert, until they both disappeared behind a cloud of sand.

​A few days later, the temperature in Brishman began to rise suddenly. It was as if they were in the desert itself, and the atmosphere became heavy. It was then that the neighbors realized Louis was gone; he had managed to leave.

​Constant arguments began to be heard in the Johnson house. Day after day, neighbors saw through their windows that there were fewer and fewer people inside, yet they never saw anyone leave the house. Eventually, the screaming stopped, and the house was left empty. Over time, the building deteriorated, and sometimes those same screams could be heard in the early morning.

​Inside the tavern, the men who once laughed with beer in hand were now seen pounding on the entrance door they had once blocked for Louis. Their skin was wrinkled, their mouths and eyes looked as if they were about to pop out, and their bodies appeared petrified. Every entrance to the place seemed to have been welded shut with iron; they wouldn't open no matter what. They were trapped. People outside only saw them with drooping lips and shriveled eyes. Meanwhile, the metal shutters of the shop never rose again. Not even a whistle came out of there.

​Grey clouds took over the sky. All the neighbors locked themselves in their homes, hiding and trembling in corners. They realized you cannot harm an innocent person, for at any moment, a lightning bolt might strike.