“The Legend of the Alley – Midnight’s Revenge” Horror Tales
My name is Daniel, and to be honest, I never believed in ghosts or urban legends. However, what happened to me in that small Colombian town at midnight on a Wednesday changed my perspective radically. I will never forget that night, an experience that, to this day, makes me question what I thought I knew about reality.
It was a rainy summer night in the tiny town where I was staying. The place, with its dark alleys and dilapidated houses, seemed straight out of a Gothic novel. The rain fell persistently, creating puddles on the ground and generating a constant sound of drops hitting the pavement. I was walking down a narrow alley, my head bowed under the hood of my coat, trying to avoid getting wet more than necessary.
As I moved forward, I noticed a man staggering a few meters away. He was clearly drunk; his erratic gait and the incoherent murmurs he emitted confirmed it. Although I would have been concerned for someone in his state at other times, that night I had my own problems, so I didn’t pay him much attention. My mind was focused on finding a dry place to shelter from the downpour.
Suddenly, a sound made me stop in my tracks: sobs and whispers that seemed to come from nowhere. The voice was clearly that of a woman, and it was laden with pain. She said:
—Why did you kill me? I did nothing wrong… I had three children…
My first impulse was to search for the source of the sound. I looked around, but the alley was empty and desolate, except for the drunk man who continued to stagger, oblivious to everything. I glanced at him, wondering if perhaps he was dreaming aloud or if, in his state, he had generated those sounds. But the murmur continued, growing more intense and desperate.
The drunk man, however, did not seem to react. He continued on his way, his body moving with difficulty, dragging itself through the shadows like a specter. Just as I was about to decide whether to continue on my path or approach to see if he needed help, an indescribable presence emerged from the fog created by the rain.
A beast suddenly appeared, a terrifying entity shrouded in dense fog. Its eyes were yellow, piercing, and filled with a horrifying sadness. The most unsettling aspect was the tears of blood streaming from its eyes and mixing with the fog surrounding its grotesque figure. The beast moved with surprising agility, and in its claws, it held the drunk man, who was being dragged by one foot.
My heart stopped as I watched the creature moving from wall to wall, the drunk man hanging like a ragdoll in its claws. The drunk man’s screams of terror blended with the woman’s sobs, creating a chilling cacophony. I wanted to scream, run, do something, but the paralyzing fear left me immobile.
In an instant that seemed eternal, the beast vanished into the fog, taking the drunk man with it. The rain continued to fall with the same intensity, and the alley was left in a deathly silence. My mind tried to process what I had just witnessed, but I was unable to find a logical explanation.
I snapped back to reality when the sound of hurried footsteps made me realize someone was approaching. I turned my head and saw a couple of townspeople who seemed to have heard the screams and were coming to investigate. Their faces showed concern and confusion at seeing my horrified expression. I could only babble incoherently as I tried to explain what I had seen.
The locals listened to me, but their reactions were somewhat skeptical. Fear was evident in their eyes, but so was disbelief. They offered me shelter for the night, and although I accepted, I couldn’t sleep. The image of the beast and the fate of the drunk man continued to torment my mind.
The next morning, news of the incident spread quickly through the town. The drunk man who had been dragged away by the beast was missing, and many began to whisper about the legend that had been haunting the town for years. It was said that a woman had been brutally murdered on a Wednesday at midnight by a drunk man. The story went that she had been a mother with three children, and her spirit, turned into a vengeful entity, sought out those who shared the same condition as her killer.
I’ve never been clear whether what I saw that night was a real manifestation of that legend or if my mind, influenced by fear and rain, played a trick on me. However, since that Wednesday, my view of the world changed forever. The small town, with its dark legends and bloody history, left an indelible mark on me.
Although I tried to return to my normal life and explain what happened in the most rational way possible, the memory of that night will always be present. Every time I hear a woman’s cry or see dense fog on a rainy night, I can’t help but remember the terrifying vision of that beast and the fate of the drunk man.
The town’s legend became part of my own story, an experience that taught me there is much more in the world than our senses and logic can comprehend. Since then, I have never doubted that, in some dark and shadowy corner, the inexplicable and terrifying can become reality.
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