WORLD OF HORROR STORIES

THE EDGE OF DESPAIR

My grandmother Natalia Lizardi was born in Spain in 1901 and later moved to the States.  

The following is a true account of what happened to her when she was 16 years old.

The morning had elapsed into early afternoon. My four younger sisters were happy and talking all at once because we were going into town. Our house was close to the woods, not far from the beautiful but treacherous cliffs of Spain. As children, my parents had forbidden us to play close to the cliffs as they were very dangerous and several people over the years had fallen to their deaths. Our cozy home was less than couple of miles outside the nearest "Pueblo." It was a good walking distance for my family. But going into town meant going to market and possibly buying new shoes. My sisters could hardly contain themselves. My baby sister Theresa pulled my hand and tried to coax me to go with them. She didn't understand why I wanted to stay home. I offered to stay behind and finish the house chores. My parents reluctantly agreed. I secretly looked forward to having the house to myself. The bustle and excited chatter from my sisters faded as everyone left. The house was silent.

As soon as they were out of earshot, I ran upstairs to write in my diary. Writing stories and poems was my favorite pastime. As a 16 year old girl who shared a room with two of my sisters, moments of privacy were scarce and precious. Rays of orange sunlight shone from the window.

By late afternoon I was deep in thought, when in the distance I could hear faint music. It was low at first and gradually seemed to get closer. I sat still. Then I heard my name. Someone was calling me. "Natalia.... come." I didn't recognize the voice but it was coming from the woods.

I looked outside the window. I could hear strange music and my name, "Natalia, Natalia come here." The music and the strange voice seemed to put me in a trancelike stupor. I remember taking slow and deliberate steps down the stairs and out the door. "Natalia." The voice beckoned me and I walked deeper and deeper into the woods. A fierce wind had blown in from the ocean. It picked up and swayed the tree branches back and forth in my path. Above, the sky grew dark. It looked more like night fall. I knew I shouldn't be out at this time. My parents would be returning soon. Still, the voice kept calling my name. It seemed to have a hold on me. Dark clouds had rolled in and I kept walking toward the voice, until suddenly I found myself past the woods and at the edge of the cliffs. I stopped. The forbidden cliffs! I remembered my parents warning. Standing a few feet away from me was the outline of a tall dark shadow. He was inches from the edge of the cliffs facing me. Behind him, was the horizon and several hundred feet below were the rocks and the angry sea. I could hear the waves crashing violently. I knew it was early evening. But it looked like night had unexpectedly descended. Any remnants of sunlight had completely vanished. "Who are you?" I managed to utter.

He did not answer me. There was a pit in my stomach. I could not make out any features from the dark shadow. He raised an arm motioning me to come closer. I was gripped with fear. And yet, I couldn't scream, or move a muscle. I reached for my gold medallion hanging from my neck. My finger felt the imprint of Jesus Christ carved delicately in my precious heirloom that had been passed down from my grandmother. She had given it to my mother and on my 15th birthday and as the oldest daughter, my mother had given it to me. Frozen and paralyzed, I tried to recognize some facial features of this dark figure. But the oncoming storm had rendered an almost pitch black night. Only his eyes were a fiery red. I kept staring. He stretched out his hand. He knew my name and his low voice called me to him. "Come closer," he said in a low voice. I thought my heart was going to come out of my chest, it beat so hard.

Just then, lightning lit up the sky followed by a loud thunder. It seemed to wake me from my trance. Lightning struck again for a few seconds. This time I got a good look at the mysterious figure. Jutting out of his head were horns and his facial features resembled that of a goat. His body appeared to have fur and his legs were strange and deformed. The legs and feet looked as if they were from an animal. I was in shock. This was not a man. My legs gave out and I fell weak to the ground on my knees . I closed my eyes tight and placed the medallion in my mouth clenching it hard with my teeth. I began to pray. I prayed and prayed. I prayed the "Our Father" over and over without letting go of my mediallion. After what felt like a long time, the wind subsided and the dark clouds seemed to pass. Suddenly there was light in the sky again. I was still on my knees and somehow gathered the courage to slowly open my eyes. I looked at the edge of the cliffs. The dark menacing figure was gone. It was dusk in the horizon. I quickly recovered and ran desperately through the dark woods all the way home. Once in the front room, I ran to my father's arms. The tears were still streaming from my face as I recounted what had happened to me. To my dismay, no one believed me. My sisters made fun of me, and my mother said I was being dramatic. Everyone thought I had made up the story. I pulled out my medallion and told them how I had bitten it several times with my teeth and prayed fervently for God's help. Everyone suddenly stopped talking and stared. My mom slowly approached and held the medallion in her hands. Around it, were the many teeth marks I had permanently left on the medallion.

It has been many years since my grandmother's terrifying experience. I know the story to be true because I now have her gold medallion and it still has evidence of her teeth marks when she clenched it in fear before the dark and sinister figure.