The Curse of the Red House

There was a house on the edge of town that everyone avoided. The Red House, as it was called, stood solitary and abandoned, surrounded by trees whose branches seemed like bony fingers clawing at the sky. Its faded red paint was peeling, revealing the rotting wood underneath. Children pointed at it from a distance, whispering stories of ghosts and curses.

Carlos had heard all those stories as a child, but had never paid much attention to them. However, now, at thirty and with a skepticism reinforced by urban life, he decided to return to the village to investigate the truth behind the legends.

He arrived on a cold October afternoon, the air laden with an unsettling stillness. The sky was covered with gray clouds that foretold a storm. Carlos parked in front of the Red House and looked at the main door, which hung from a broken hinge. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and headed to the entrance.

The house creaked under his weight, as if waking from a long sleep. Carlos turned on his flashlight and proceeded cautiously. The foyer was covered in dust and cobwebs. There were old portraits on the walls, their eyes seeming to follow Carlos' every move. A shiver ran down his spine, but he attributed it to suggestion.

He climbed the stairs, which groaned under each step. He reached the second floor, where the rooms were in a state of greater disrepair. Broken doors, smashed furniture, and a stench of dampness filled the place. At the end of the hallway, a closed door caught his attention. He felt an inexplicable pull toward it.

He turned the knob and entered. The room was surprisingly intact. A large mirror covered one wall, reflecting the light of his flashlight. In the center of the room was a desk with an old leather-bound diary. Carlos opened it and began to read.

The diary belonged to Elena, the youngest daughter of the family who lived there more than a hundred years ago. It described how her parents became obsessed with the occult, performing rituals and spells in search of power and wealth. However, something went terribly wrong. One night, the spell they performed unleashed a malevolent entity that trapped them in the house, condemning them to a fate worse than death.

Carlos felt a chill as he read the last entries in the diary, where Elena described how her parents changed, becoming shadows of their former selves. She heard them whispering at night, their voices full of terror and madness. Elena had sealed the room to protect herself, but eventually, the entity reached her too.

Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped drastically. The mirror began to fog up, and words appeared on its surface, written by invisible fingers: "Help me." Carlos stepped back, feeling that something was very wrong. At that moment, the diary slammed shut, and a sinister laugh filled the air.

He ran to the door, but it slammed shut with a bang. The flashlight began to flicker, and a shadowy figure appeared in the mirror. The entity had the deformed features of a woman, her eyes black as the abyss. Carlos tried to scream, but no sound came out of his throat.

The figure moved slowly, emerging from the mirror as if passing through a liquid curtain. Carlos stood paralyzed, his legs refusing to obey. The entity extended a hand toward him, her fingers long and sharp like knives. He felt a pressure in his chest, as if something invisible was squeezing his heart.

In a last desperate effort, Carlos closed his eyes and remembered the words from the diary. "The light of truth will dispel the shadows of lies." He concentrated on that thought, projecting it with all his might. A golden glow began to emanate from his flashlight, growing in intensity until it filled the entire room.

The entity shrieked, an inhuman and gut-wrenching sound, before vanishing into the air. The door swung open, and Carlos ran out, not looking back. He rushed down the stairs and out of the house, breathing in the cold night air as if for the first time.

The next day, the Red House was demolished. The villagers, who had always feared that place, breathed a sigh of relief. However, Carlos knew that the entity had not disappeared, it had only been contained. As he left the village, an unsettling sensation accompanied him, as if invisible eyes were watching him.

The curse of the Red House was not over, it was only waiting for its next opportunity.