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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/sisoiqadra on 2024-09-18 18:01:46+00:00.

Let me start off by saying this: I’m not a good person. Life never gave me the chance to be otherwise; I have stealed, scammed, lied, and yes: I have killed. This is my first, and probably last, confession I would make since I know now that my life is about to end.

I was raised in El Salvador, where being born poor was a death sentence no matter where your life goes, either be part of organized crime or be a victim of it. I didn’t have parents; I didn’t have friends; I was alone most of my life. I’m not trying to excuse myself, because I know there is no excuse for all the things I’ve done.

With all that in the table, let me tell you about my encounter with El Cadejo. In our folklore, el Cadejo is a black dog created by the devil himself to give the damned souls a premature trip to the fiery pits of hell. I never believed it, why would I? Dogs aren’t typically scary; hell, I’ve had dogs, big dogs even, and none of them have ever frightened me. And yes, I’ve been bitten and scratched by dogs, every dog owner has been. How naïve I was.

I was walking to my house, if you could call my small, rickety structure made of mismatched planks that way. It was nighttime, the weather was warm as usual for a tropical country, no clouds at all in the sky, I could see the stars decorating the dark canvas of the sky as my footsteps where the only sound I could make out during the quietness of midnight. I came back from a shitty day, with not a single cent to my name for food or water. When all of the sudden, as I was reflecting on how I came to that point in my life, a chill ran down my spine.

Have you ever had the feeling of someone or something watching you? You probably had, now imagine it while you’re alone, down a path you have walked a million times, feeling as safe as someone who knows your road like the palm of your own hand. The sudden realization that I wasn’t safe at all, my legs started to tremble and my breathing got heavier, as if the air became thicker and impossibly hot.

My vision blurred as my hearing could capture a noise, an unfamiliar noise for the place. It sounded like a hoof, like the ones from goats, faintly but constant and approaching rapidly. When my sense of sight came to, I asked if someone was there, I screamed to the air, and no response at all. Then I saw it.

It emerged from the shadows, as if it was materializing from the night itself. Its eyes burned with an intense, blood-red glow that pierced through the darkness, its fur is matted and clinged to its gaunt frame, coated in shadows. A foul odor, like sulfur and decay, permeated the air around it, and its growls sounded like a chorus of anguished whispers. As it moved closer to me in seconds that felt like an eternity of suffering, the ground seemed to tremble faintly, as though the very earth recoiled from its presence. Its form is that of a massive dog, much larger than any ordinary pet, with a muscular yet unnervingly graceful build.

Just when I thought I would collapse or even die under its gaze, it stopped. It didn’t leap or lunge. It just… stood there, as if savoring my fear. My legs finally responded, and I stumbled back, almost tripping. My mind was a storm of terror, but something pushed me to take another step, then another.

With every step back I took, it followed, always staying just out of reach, but close enough for me to see it. I walked backward, eyes locked on its burning red gaze, refusing to turn away. My heart pounded painfully in my chest, my breaths shallow and rapid. It felt like hours, that slow retreat, my feet dragging over rocks and roots. The scent of decay clung to me, the echo of its growl lingering in my ears.

I know the story, I know why it came to me; but what I don’t know is why, as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished. I stood there for a long moment, heart still hammering, legs trembling. The path ahead was empty now, but the memory of those glowing eyes burned in my mind. I had faced El Cadejo and survived. Why did I survive? God knows I don’t deserve it.

When I finally made it back home, I just stayed there, standing, contemplating every single choice I’ve ever made. I want to say that the encounter gave me a new perspective on life and death, how I want to live and where will I go when I die; but I fear that no amount of self-reflection can help me, as I look out the window and see glowing, red eyes coming from a silhouette that appears to be a massive black dog.