Good evening, all mystery lovers. Welcome once again to The Cursed Inkwell, where the darkest stories come to life. Today I bring you a fictional story that will undoubtedly send shivers down your spine. We’re talking about the Luján family and the mysterious disappearance of all their heirs.

Get ready to immerse yourself in one of the most disturbing tales I’ve ever had the pleasure of creating for you.
The story begins in the small town of San Isidro de la Sierra, a place lost in the mountains of northern Spain. A place where time seems to stand still, where traditions and superstitions still hold a great weight in the daily lives of its inhabitants.

It is here that the Luján family built their empire more than 200 years ago. It was in 1823 when Alonso Luján, a simple miner, discovered a vein of gold in the mountains near the town. What began as a stroke of luck quickly became one of the largest fortunes in the

region. The mine produced so much gold that the Lujáns soon became the most powerful family in San Isidro, building an imposing mansion that still dominates the town’s landscape today.
However, the Luján fortune did not come without a price. According to the town’s oldest residents, Alonso did not find the gold by chance. It is said that one night, while looking for firewood in the forest, he encountered a strange-looking old woman. The woman, shivering from the cold,

asked him for help. Alonso, unlike others who had passed through there before, took pity on her and offered her his coat and some of his food.
The grateful old woman revealed the location of a gold vein in the mountain. “This gold will bring you riches beyond your imagination,” she told him. “But remember, every fortune comes with a price. When the time comes, you must pay whatever is asked of you.” Alonso, excited by the prospect of

striking rich, paid no heed to the warning.
Within a few months, the mine was producing more gold than he had ever dreamed of. He married Isabel, the mayor’s daughter, and together they had three children, Rodrigo, Martín, and Clara. The family prospered for decades. The Lujan mansion, with its tall towers and lush gardens, became the

center of San Isidro’s social life.
The Lujans were known for their generosity, funding the construction of schools, hospitals, and roads. However, as their wealth grew, so did a strange shadow over the family. Everything changed on the night of November 15, 1848, the day Alonso turned 50.

During the celebration, as everyone toasted the patriarch’s health, the lights suddenly went out.
When they came back on, Alonso stood staring into space, muttering unintelligible words. Before the astonished gaze of everyone present, he took a knife from his pocket and cut his palm, letting his blood drip onto an old book that had mysteriously appeared

on the table.

The pact is sealed, he said in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. The blood of the Lujáns will feed the shadows for seven generations. The next day, Alonso remembered nothing of what had happened. The book had disappeared, and many guests thought it had all been a joke in bad taste or the

result of too much wine.
However, Isabel noticed a change in her husband; his eyes, once full of life and kindness, now seemed empty, as if something inside him had been extinguished. A month later, Rodrigo, Alonso’s eldest son, disappeared without a trace. He was barely 15 years old.

The search lasted weeks, but not a single clue was found regarding his whereabouts. Some said he had run away with a young woman from the town, others that he had fallen victim to bandits, but no one mentioned what everyone feared: that Alonso’s strange prophecy was beginning to come true.

Alonso never recovered from the loss of his son.
He locked himself in his study, spending days on end consulting old books and manuscripts, desperately searching for an explanation for what had happened. Isabel, for her part, took refuge in religion, converting one of the mansion’s rooms into a small chapel where she spent hours praying for

her son’s return. Martín and Clara, the younger children, grew up under the shadow of their brother’s disappearance.
Martín grew into a somber and taciturn young man, while Clara developed a strange fascination with the occult, collecting amulets and talismans that, she believed, would protect her from the fate that had befallen her brother. Despite the tragedy, the Lujan fortune continued to grow.

The mine produced more gold than ever, and Alonso diversified his investments by purchasing land and businesses throughout the region.
However, happiness seemed to have left the Lujá mansion forever. In 1860, Alonso died suddenly of a heart attack.

The estate left specific instructions on how his fortune was to be divided. Martín, now 25, would inherit the mine and most of the

businesses, while Clara, 23, would receive the mansion and a considerable sum of money.
However, there was one peculiar condition. Neither could sell or give away anything inherited without the other’s consent. Furthermore, both were to live in the mansion until they had children, at which point they could decide whether to move. Martín married shortly afterward

Elena, the daughter of a merchant from the neighboring town.
Clara, for her part, remained single, devoting herself to studying the rare books her father had accumulated in the last years of his life. In 1862, Elena gave birth to a boy they named Alonso in honor of his grandfather. Joy briefly returned to the Luján mansion. However, that joy

would be overshadowed by another twist of fate.
One night, while everyone was asleep, a fire broke out in the west wing of the mansion, where Martín and Elena’s bedroom was located. The flames spread with unusual speed, as if fueled by a supernatural force. The servants managed to get Clara and little Alonso out, but Martín and Elena remained trapped.
Their bodies were found the next day, cuddled in their bed, as if death had surprised them while they slept. Clara, now the only adult in the family, took on the responsibility of raising her nephew and managing the family fortune. Despite her grief, she showed herself to be

surprisingly strong. She hired the best tutors for Alonso and ensured he received an excellent education.
However, she couldn’t help but pass on her fascination with the occult to him. As Alonso grew older, Clara told him stories about the mysterious old woman in the forest and the pact she claimed his grandfather had made. She taught him to protect himself with amulets and to perform small rituals that, she believed,

would keep the shadows away.
Alonso was a bright and curious child. Unlike his aunt, who saw the world through the prism of the supernatural, he sought rational explanations for everything. However, even he had to admit that there was something strange about his family’s history. Too many deaths, too many

disappearances to be simple bad luck.
When he turned 18, Alonso decided to investigate on his own. He spent months scouring archives and libraries, speaking with the town’s oldest residents, looking for any clue that might shed light on the mystery surrounding his family. It was during one of these investigations

that he met Lucía, a young historian who had come to San Isidro to study the region’s old mines.
Lucía was intelligent, pragmatic, and most importantly, didn’t believe in curses or supernatural pacts. For her, everything had a logical explanation. All that was needed was to find her. Alonso and Lucía quickly fell in love. Clara disapproved of the relationship, fearing that Lucía would distance her nephew from the

truth she had tried to teach him.
However, she was unable to prevent them from marrying in 1885. That same year, Clara suddenly fell ill. Doctors were unable to diagnose what was happening to her. Day by day, she grew weaker, as if something were slowly draining her life. On her deathbed, she called Alonso and handed him a small

wooden chest. “Never open it,” she warned him.
“It contains something that must never see the light of day. Promise me you’ll keep it, and when the time comes, you’ll give it to your eldest son on his birthday.” Alonso, bewildered but respectful of his aunt’s wishes, promised to do as she asked. Clara died that same night with a peaceful expression on her face, as if she had finally been freed from a heavy burden.
After Clara’s death, Alonso and Lucía moved into the mansion’s master bedroom. Despite his aunt’s warnings, Alonso couldn’t help but be curious about the chest’s contents. One night, while Lucía was sleeping, he took it out of its hiding place and tried to open it. To his surprise,

it had no lock or visible hinges.
It was as if it were a single piece of wood carved to look like a chest. Frustrated, he put the chest away and decided to focus on the more practical matters of life. The mine was still producing gold, although in lesser quantities than before, and the family business required his attention. Furthermore, Lucía

was pregnant, and Alonso was excited at the prospect of becoming a father.
In 1886, Lucía gave birth to twins, Eduardo and Sofía. Alonso’s joy knew no bounds. For the first time in generations, it seemed that the shadow hanging over the Luján family had been lifted. The children grew up healthy and happy, oblivious to their family’s dark past.

However, when the twins turned 7, something strange began to happen. Eduardo, the older by just a

After a few minutes, he began to have nightmares. He dreamed of an old woman who spoke to him about a pact and a debt that must be paid. Every night, the old woman asked him to follow her into the forest,

where she would show him a treasure more valuable than gold. Alonso and Lucía consulted doctors and psychologists, but no one could explain the boy’s nightmares.
Lucía, ever pragmatic, suggested that perhaps Eduardo had heard the old stories about the family and his subconscious had transformed them into nightmares. Alonso, however, remembered his aunt’s warnings too well to completely rule out the possibility that

there was something more to it. One night, while everyone was asleep, Eduardo got out of bed and, as if in a trance, left the mansion.
A servant returning late saw him heading toward the forest and, alarmed, rushed to wake Alonso and Lucía. The search lasted all night. Dozens of people combed the forest with torches and lanterns, desperately calling for the boy. At dawn, they found Eduardo sitting next to an

old oak tree, staring into space and with a strange smile on his face.
“The old woman showed me the treasure,” he said when his father found it. “She says I’ll soon be with her forever.” Dismayed, Alonso and Lucía decided to leave San Isidro. They sold the mine and most of their property, keeping only the mansion, which, according to Alonso Priman’s will, could not be sold.

They moved to Madrid, hoping the distance and the bustle of the big city would keep the ghosts of the past at bay. For a few years, it seemed their plan had worked. Eduardo stopped having nightmares, and both he and Sofía adapted well to their new life. Alonso found a job

as a history professor at the university, while Lucía published several books about Spain’s old mines, which were quite successful.
However, the past wasn’t going to let them go so easily. In 1900, when the twins turned 14, they received a letter from San Isidro. It was from Don Ramón, the mansion’s former steward, who had remained there caring for the property. The letter was brief but disturbing.

Señor Luján, you must return immediately.
Something has awakened in the mansion. The servants hear voices at night, and there are strange lights in the woods. The townspeople are talking about the old woman again. Please come back before it’s too late. Alonso wanted to ignore the letter, but Lucía insisted they investigate. Perhaps

someone was trying to scare them into leaving the mansion.
Or perhaps there was a rational explanation for the phenomena Don Ramón described. They decided that Alonso would travel alone to San Isidro, while Lucía and the children would remain in Madrid. Reluctantly, Alonso agreed to the plan and left the next day. What he found in San Isidro surpassed his

worst fears.
The mansion, which had always been imposing yet welcoming, now seemed threatening. The walls were covered with a strange black dampness that couldn’t be removed, and a putrid smell permeated every room. Don Ramón, a man who had always been the very image of

composure, now seemed aged and terrified. It started a month ago, he explained.
First, there were the noises, as if someone were walking the halls at night. Then the voices began, whispers that seemed to come from the walls, and finally the apparitions. According to Don Ramón, several people had seen an old woman wandering the mansion’s gardens.

She always appeared at dusk, walking slowly toward the woods as if waiting for someone to follow her. Alonso spent several days in the mansion trying to find a rational explanation for what was happening. He examined the walls for water leaks that might explain the

dampness. He checked the ventilation ducts for trapped animals that could be causing the noises.
And he even hired a detective to investigate the possibility that someone was trying to scare them. Nothing, there was no logical explanation for what was happening in the Lujan mansion. Frustrated and increasingly worried, Alonso decided it was best to sell the mansion despite

the restrictions in the will.
However, when he consulted with a lawyer, he discovered it was impossible. The clause prohibiting the sale was worded in such a way that the mansion could not legally change hands while any descendants of Alonso Primeabo were still alive. Desperate, Alonso decided it was best to seal

the mansion.
He dismissed all the servants, except for Don Ramón, who insisted on staying to ensure that the evil spirits did not escape. He closed all the rooms except those strictly necessary and hired several workers to board up the windows and doors that faced the forest. Before returning to

Madrid, Alonso visited the municipal library, hoping to

find some information about the mysterious old woman who seemed to be at the center of the Lujan curse.
There, in an old book of local legends, she found a story that chilled her blood. According to legend, in the 10th century, a woman named Elisa Vidal was accused of witchcraft by the residents of San Isidro. The woman, who lived alone in the forest and was known for her knowledge of medicinal herbs, had helped many people with her remedies.
However, when a series of children began disappearing, the townspeople pointed the finger at her. Elisa was captured and tortured until she confessed to kidnapping the children for use in satanic rituals. She was sentenced to die at the stake. But before the flames consumed her, she cast a curse.
For seven generations, the blood of this people will fuel my vengeance. Your children will disappear one by one, and their souls will serve me for all eternity. The coincidence was too great to be ignored. Alonso copied the story and returned to Madrid with renewed determination. He had to

protect his children at all costs.
Upon arriving in Madrid, Alonso discovered that Eduardo had disappeared. According to Lucía, the boy had gone out for a walk and never returned. The police were searching for him, but there was no sign of him. Alonso was devastated. He couldn’t help thinking that somehow the curse had

followed him to Madrid.
Lucía, always the voice of reason, insisted that Eduardo had probably run away, perhaps to meet a girl or have an adventure. He was a teenager, after all, and teenagers sometimes do impulsive things. But Alonso knew the truth. The old woman had

claimed another Luján. In the following days, Alonso told Lucía everything he had discovered in San Isidro.
To his surprise, Lucía didn’t immediately dismiss the idea of ​​a curse. There was something about Eduardo’s disappearance that didn’t fit with a simple teenage runaway. He hadn’t taken any money or clothes, and all his friends swore they wouldn’t know anything about his plans. If it’s a curse, Lucía said, there must

be a way to break it. No curse is invincible.
Together they began to investigate, consulting occult books, speaking with experts in folklore and legends, and even visiting a gypsy woman who, they said, had the gift of seeing beyond the veil that separates our world from the afterlife. The gypsy woman, an elderly woman with piercing eyes, gave them

some disturbing advice. The curse feeds on the blood of the Lujans.
As long as there are Lujans, the curse will persist. There is only one way to break it. The last of the Lujans must voluntarily renounce their inheritance and disappear without a trace. Only then will the captured souls be freed. Alonso and Lucía didn’t know what to make of this advice. It meant that

Sofía, now the last of the Lujans, had to renounce her last name and her inheritance.
And what it meant to disappear without a trace. Meanwhile, Sofía became increasingly withdrawn. The disappearance of her twin brother had affected her deeply. She spent hours locked in her room, drawing the same scene over and over again. An old woman standing next to a tree with her hand

extended toward a figure that could only be Eduardo.
Concerned about their daughter’s mental health, Alonso and Lucía decided to take her to a psychiatrist. Dr. Mendoza, a scientist who didn’t believe in curses or supernatural phenomena, diagnosed Sofía with post-traumatic stress disorder caused by her brother’s disappearance.

He recommended therapy and possibly medication.
Although the symptoms didn’t improve, Sofía obediently attended the therapy sessions, but she didn’t seem to be getting better. She continued to draw the old woman and Eduardo, and had now added other figures to her drawings. A boy who could only be Rodrigo, the first Luján to disappear, and several other figures who

they assumed represented the other children who had disappeared over the years. One night, while they were having dinner, Sofía spoke for the first time in weeks.
The old woman wants us all to go to the forest. She says if we do, Eduardo will be able to return home. Alonso and Lucía exchanged worried glances. Was Sofía delusional or was she really in contact with the entity that had cursed the Luján family? They decided to consult with Dr.

Mendoza, who advised them to go along with Sofía. But in a controlled manner.
He suggested they simulate a trip to the forest, perhaps to a nearby park, to show Sofía that there was no old woman waiting for them. Following this advice, Alonso and Lucía took Sofía to the Retiro Park, the large park in Madrid. They hoped the familiar, crowded setting would show

Sofía that her fears were unfounded.
However, as soon as they set foot in the park, Sofia began to behave strangely.

She mined with determination, as if she knew exactly where she was going, leading her parents toward one of the most secluded areas of the park. Suddenly, she stopped in front of an old oak tree. She looked around

as if searching for something, and then smiled. “It’s here,” the old woman said.
It’s here, and so is Eduardo. Alonso and Lucía couldn’t see anyone, but a chill ran down their spines. There was something in the air, a presence they couldn’t see, but could feel. “Sofia, honey, there’s no one here,” Lucía said, trying to remain calm. “Let’s go home, okay?”

But Sofia didn’t move.
She kept staring at the oak tree as if she were listening to someone only she could hear. Suddenly, she reached out as if to touch something invisible. “Eduardo says it’s fine,” she said. He says it doesn’t hurt, it’s just like falling asleep. Alarmed, Alonso and Lucía tried to pull Sofia away from the tree, but

the little girl resisted with surprising strength.
It was then that they noticed that her normally warm brown eyes were now completely black. “It’s not Sofia,” Alonso murmured in horror. “Whatever it is, this thing isn’t our daughter.” Lucia, however, wasn’t about to give up. With a determination born of maternal love, she confronted the entity that had possessed her daughter.
“Give us back our daughter,” she demanded, “and our son as well.” I don’t know who or what you are, but you have no right to take our children.” For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, slowly, Sofia’s eyes returned to their normal color. She looked around in confusion, as if

she had just woken from a dream.
Mom, Dad, what are we doing here? Relieved, but still cautious, Alonso and Lucía took Sofia back home. That night, while the girl slept, they discussed what had happened. “We can’t go on like this,” Lucía said. “Whatever it is, this thing is real. It’s not a curse or a

superstition. It’s something tangible that’s trying to take our children.”
Alonso nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps the gypsy woman was right. Perhaps the only way to break the curse is for the last of the Lujáns to renounce their inheritance. But what exactly does that mean? And how can we be sure it will work? They had no answers, only more questions.

They decided it was best to keep Sofia close. and protected while they continued investigating. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Sofía seemed to have returned to normal, although she occasionally mentioned strange dreams about Eduardo and the lady in the tree. Alonso and

Lucía consulted more experts and read more books, but found no clear solution.
It was during this time that Alonso remembered the chest Clara had given him on her deathbed. He had locked it in a safe and had almost forgotten its existence. Perhaps he thought the chest held some clue as to how to break the curse. That night, while Lucía and Sofía slept,

Alonso took the chest out of its hiding place; as before, it didn’t seem to have a way to open it.
Frustrated, he examined it in more detail, running his fingers over every inch of its surface. It was then that he noticed something: a small symbol carved into the base, almost invisible to the naked eye. It was a circle with a spiral inside, similar to those he had seen in the occult books

he had been studying.
Remembering what he had read, Alonso placed his index finger in the center of the spiral and traced the path outward. To his surprise, the symbol began to glow with a faint light, and a soft click was heard. The chest had opened. Inside was a small book bound in

black leather and a silver medallion with the same spiral symbol.
With trembling hands, Alonso opened the book. It was written in a language he didn’t recognize, but there were a few pages of Spanish interspersed throughout the text. These appeared to be notes or translations made by someone, possibly Clara or even Alonso I. One of these notes immediately caught

his attention.
The pact was sealed with blood, and only with blood can it be broken. The seventh generation must offer the final sacrifice before the new moon rises seven times. Only then will the captured souls be freed and the debt settled. Alonso felt a chill. Final sacrifice. What

exactly did that mean? And as he began to count the Seven new moons, he continued reading, looking for more clues. He found another note that said, “The medallion is the key.
It must be carried by the one who makes the sacrifice, or the shadows will claim all who carry the cursed blood.” Alonso looked at the medallion with apprehension. Was it what Clara had wanted to protect? An object that was somehow connected to the curse that weighed on his family.

He decided he needed more information before making any decisions. He put the book and the medallion back in the chest and hid it again.

He needed to consult with Lucía and perhaps an expert in ancient symbols who could help them decipher the full text of the book. The next day,

Alonso told Lucía what he had discovered.
She listened attentively, her face a mixture of concern and determination. “We need to know more,” she finally said. “This final sacrifice could mean anything from a symbolic ritual to, well, something much more sinister. We can’t take any risks without knowing exactly what we’re doing.” They agreed to find someone who could translate the full text of the book.
Lucía, with her connections in academia, knew a professor of ancient languages ​​at the University of Salamanca who could help them. In the meantime, they decided it was best to return to San Isidro. If the curse had begun there, perhaps the answers lay there as well. Besides,

Alonso couldn’t help feeling that somehow the mansion was part of all this. Perhaps it even held clues they had overlooked.
They prepared their trip carefully. Sofía, of course, would go with them, but they would take every precaution possible to keep her safe. Alonso carried the chest, the book, and the medallion with him, though he didn’t dare put it on for fear of activating some kind of hidden power. The trip to San Isidro

was tense.
Each time they drew closer to the town, Sofía grew more restless, as if she could sense the old woman’s presence growing stronger. Alonso and Lucía took turns watching her, fearing that she might be possessed again. When they finally arrived in San Isidro, they found the town almost

deserted.
Many houses were abandoned, their windows broken and their gardens overgrown with weeds. The few people who remained looked at them with a mixture of fear and resentment, as if they blamed them for what had happened. Don Ramón was waiting for them at the entrance of the mansion. The old man seemed

to have aged decades in the few months since Alonso had last seen him.
His hands were shaking and his gaze was filled with a terror he couldn’t hide. “You shouldn’t have come back,” he told them in a low voice. “Things have gotten worse. Now it’s not just children who are disappearing. Adults, the elderly. No one is safe. People say it’s your fault, Mr. Lujan. They say the

curse has spread because you tried to escape it.” Alonso felt a pang of guilt.
Was it possible that his attempt to hear about San Isidro had made things worse? He had damned the entire town for trying to protect his family. They entered the mansion cautiously. The smell of decay was now unbearable, and black dampness had covered almost every wall. Some

rooms were completely inaccessible, the doors sealed by a slimy substance that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
Don Ramón led them to the library, one of the few rooms that still seemed relatively untouched. There, he showed them something he had found while cleaning: a secret compartment in the wall hidden behind one of the shelves. In the compartment was a diary, yellowed by

the passage of time. Time. It was Alonso’s diary, the first writing he had done in the final years of his life.
Alonso held it reverently, hoping it might finally reveal the truth about the curse’s origins. That night, while Sofia slept under Lucía’s watch, Alonso sat down to read his grandfather’s diary. What he discovered left him frozen. According to the diary, Alonso Prina had not

found the gold by chance or thanks to the help of a mysterious old woman. The truth was far more sinister.
Alonso had not discovered an ancient sect that worshipped a dark entity known as the Child-Eater. This entity, they believed, could grant riches and power in exchange for human sacrifices, preferably children.
Alonso Primino, desperate to escape poverty, had made a pact with this entity. The gold did not come from a mine, but was created by the magic of the Devourer. In return, Alonso had first promised to give it to his own children and his children’s children for seven generations.

Without However, when the time came to fulfill his part of the bargain, Alonso Primino was able to do so.
He loved his children too much to give them over to such a horrible fate. He searched for a way to break the pact, consulting witches, priests, and scholars. He finally found a ritual that might work, but it required a voluntary sacrifice. Someone from the Lujan family had to offer their life to the

Devourer, not as a victim, but as a guardian.
This person would become a kind of barrier between the world of the living and the Devourer’s realm, preventing the entity from claiming more souls. Alonso Primino had planned to offer himself as a sacrifice, but the entity had been more cunning. On the night of his birthday, it had

possessed him.

He had been trying to seal the pact with blood, thus preventing her from breaking it the way she had planned.
Since then, the entity had been claiming the Lujá children one by one, feeding on their souls to maintain its power. The journal ended with a desperate warning. To whoever reads these words, if any Luján are still alive, know that there is only one way to stop this. The

last of our blood must voluntarily go to the place where it all began: the ancient oak tree in the center of the forest, and offer their lives as guardian.
It is not death, but a different kind of existence, an eternity of vigilance so that the devourer can never claim another child. It is a terrible price, but it is the only path to redemption. Alonso closed the journal, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Now he understood why

Eduardo had disappeared and why Sofía was in danger.
He also understood why the townspeople were disappearing. The Devourer, frustrated at not being able to claim all the Lujans, was taking others in their place. But what could he do? He couldn’t allow Sofía to sacrifice herself. She was just a child, and the thought of condemning her to an eternity

as the guardian of a malevolent entity was unbearable, but he also couldn’t allow more people to disappear because of her.
With a heavy heart, Alonso made a decision. He would be the sacrifice. He, the last adult Luján, would offer himself as guardian. Perhaps that would be enough to break the curse and save Sofía. He said nothing to Lucía or Sofía about his plan. He knew they would try to stop him, and he couldn’t

risk failing.
That night, while everyone was asleep, Alonso took the medallion from the chest and placed it around his neck. He immediately felt a dark presence enveloping him, as if the medallion were a conduit for the Devourer. With determined steps, he left the mansion and headed into the woods. He knew

exactly where to go. The old oak tree Alonso had first mentioned in his journal.
The same type of tree they had found Eduardo next to years before. The same type of tree Sofia had been drawn to at the retreat. The forest was plunged into an unearthly darkness. There were no stars or moon in the sky, and the trees seemed to writhe as if alive.

Alonso felt invisible eyes watching him from the shadows, but he continued forward, guided by a force he couldn’t explain.
Finally, he came to a clearing in the center of the forest. There, illuminated by a spectral light that seemed to emanate from the ground itself, stood the old oak tree. It was enormous. Its trunk was so wide that it would have taken several men with their arms outstretched to surround it. Its branches stretched like

tentacles toward the sky, and its roots protruded from the ground like pulsing veins. And there, standing beside the tree, was the old woman.
She was not at all how Alonso had imagined her. She wasn’t a creepy witch or a terrifying specter. She was an ordinary-looking woman, with gray hair tied back in a bun and eyes that seemed like wells of infinite sadness. “You have come,” the old woman said, her voice like the whisper of the wind through

the leaves.
The last of the Lujáns has come to pay the debt. Alonso approached, the medallion burning against his chest. “I am Alonso Luján,” he said firmly. “I have come to offer my life as guardian in exchange for the release of all the souls the devourer has claimed, in exchange for the protection of my daughter and

all the people of San Isidro.” The old woman looked at him with an indecipherable expression.
“You are not the last,” she said finally. “Your daughter bears the blood of the Lujáns; as long as she lives, the debt will not be paid.” Alonso felt his heart freeze. “No,” he said in despair. “There must be another way. Take me. I am a Luján. My sacrifice must be enough.” The old woman shook her

head. The pact was clear. Seven generations of Luján to the last. Your daughter is the seventh generation.
She must be the last to pay. Alonso was about to protest when he heard a voice behind him. Papa turned in horror to see Sofía standing at the edge of the clearing. The girl was in her nightgown, barefoot, her hair disheveled as if she had just gotten out of bed.

But her eyes were completely black, like those of a person possessed. “Sofía, no!” Alonso shouted, running toward her, but before he could reach her, an invisible force stopped him, holding him still. Sofía advanced toward the oak tree with mechanical steps, like a puppet

controlled by invisible strings. The old woman reached out toward her, a terrible smile spreading across her face.
“The seventh generation,” she murmured. Finally, the circle is closed. It was then that Alonso understood the truth. The old woman was no mere witch or vengeful ghost. She was the devourer herself, who had taken human form to claim her prize. With superhuman effort, Alonso

He managed to break

the invisible barrier that contained him.
He lunged forward, placing himself between Sofia and the old woman. “No!” he shouted. “I won’t allow you to take her. If you want a Luján, take me.” The old woman glared at him furiously. “You fool. You can’t break the pact. The child must come with me.” Alonso felt the medallion on his chest burning brighter and brighter, as if

it were about to melt into his skin.
Suddenly he remembered the words in the book. The medallion is the key. With a swift movement, he removed the medallion and held it in front of him directly at the old woman. The spiral symbol glowed with a blinding light, and the old woman stepped back, covering her eyes. “The key!” she exclaimed with a

mixture of surprise and fear.
“How did you find it?” Alonso didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he knew he had an advantage. “Free all the children,” he demanded. “Free all those you’ve taken and break the pact, or I’ll use the key to destroy you.” The old woman snarled, her human form beginning to

fade, revealing something far older and more terrifying behind it.
It was like a shadow, vaguely humanoid in shape, with eyes that glowed like embers and a mouth full of sharp teeth. You cannot destroy me, if you are the creature. I am older than your ancestors, older than this forest, older than humanity itself. I have had many names throughout

the eons, but I have always been the same, the one who feeds on innocence, the one who thrives on fear, the one who thrives on despair.
Alonso felt his courage waver at this revelation, but he stood firm. Sofia stood behind him, seemingly freed from the creature’s control, trembling with fear, but conscious. “Perhaps I cannot destroy you,” Alonso admitted. “But I can lock you away. This medallion, this key, was

created for that, wasn’t it? To seal the door between your world and ours.”
” The creature growled, involuntarily confirming Alonso’s theory. The medallion was forged by traitors, mortals who tried to break their pacts with me. They hid it, but could never use it against me. It requires a willing sacrifice, a pure soul that offers itself without reservation. And you,

Alonso Lujan, are not pure. You bear the stain of your ancestor’s greed.
Alonso looked at Sofia, who watched him with eyes filled with fear, but also with love and trust. He made a decision. You are right, he said. I am not pure, but my daughter is. And if what you need is a willing sacrifice, you shall have it. I offer myself freely to seal the door between your

world and ours, to break the pact my ancestor made with you, to free all those you have taken.
” The creature roared, its form billowing like black smoke. “You cannot. The pact demands the seventh generation.” Alonso smiled sadly. “The pact demands the seventh generation of Luján. I am of the sixth generation, but there is something you have not taken into account. I am also the father of the seventh. My

blood is the same as my daughter’s, and I offer that blood willingly.”
Before the creature could react, Alonso pressed the medallion to its heart and spoke the words he had found in the book. Words in an ancient language it did not understand, but which flowed from its mouth as if it had known them all its life. The medallion fused with its

skin, and a blinding light emanated from its body.
Alonso felt an indescribable pain, as if every cell of its being was being torn apart and reassembled. He saw fleeting images. Rodrigo, the first Luján to disappear. Martín and Elena, trapped in the fire, Clara weakening to death, Eduardo walking toward the forest as if in a trance,

and saw other children, dozens, maybe hundreds, all taken by the devourer over the centuries.
The creature howled in rage and pain, its form dissolving like smoke in the wind. The old oak tree began to tremble, its branches twisting as if in agony. The ground beneath their feet opened, revealing an abyss of darkness that seemed bottomless. “Daddy!” Sofia cried, running

toward him, but Alonso stopped her with a gesture.
“Don’t come closer, darling,” he said weakly. “You have to go. Go back to Mom. Tell her I love her. Tell her I’ve found a way for you to break the curse.” Sofia wept, but she nodded. She understood somehow what was happening. She understood that her father was making the ultimate sacrifice to

save her, to save them all. “I love you, Dad,” she said through tears.
“I will always love you.” Alonso smiled. “And I love you, my little one. Now go, run, and don’t look back.” Sofia obeyed, running through the forest, which now seemed much less threatening. The trees no longer twisted, the shadows no longer lurked, it was as if an evil presence had been expelled,

leaving only a normal forest in its place.
Meanwhile, Alonso felt his body becoming lighter and lighter, as if he were losing substance.

Anxiety. The medallion on his chest shone with a blinding intensity, and the chasm beneath the oak tree was beginning to close. With his last strength, Alonso looked up at the sky.

He saw stars, thousands of them, shining with a clarity he had never experienced before. And among the stars, he saw luminous figures descending toward him. They were the children. All the children the Devourer had taken over the centuries, coming to thank him, to say goodbye, to guide him in

his transition to whatever came next. Among them was Eduardo, his son, smiling with a peace Alonso hadn’t seen in him since before the nightmares began.
And there was Rodrigo, the first Luján to disappear, and so many others whose names Alonso didn’t know, but whose faces he recognized somehow. “Thank you,” Eduardo said, his voice like a distant echo. “You’ve set us free, Dad. Now we can rest.” Alonso smiled, feeling a peace he had never

known before.
He had paid the debt, broken the curse, saved his daughter and everyone else. It was enough. With a final breath, Alonso Lujan closed his eyes and let himself be carried away by the light. Sofía arrived at the mansion panting and crying. Lucía was waiting for her at the door, awake from the absence of

Alonso and Sofía. When she saw her daughter running from the woods, alone, she knew what had happened.
“Dad’s gone,” Sofía said through her tears. “He left to save us, to break the curse.” Lucía hugged her daughter, her own tears mingling with Sofía’s. She knew, deep down, that Alonso wouldn’t return, but she also knew she had done what she had to do.

He had given his life for his children, for everyone’s. That night, as mother and daughter hugged, comforting each other, something extraordinary happened in San Isidro. People who had disappeared in recent months began to return. They appeared in their homes confused, as if

waking from a long sleep.
They didn’t remember where they had been or what had happened to them, only that they had heard a voice calling them and had followed the call without being able to resist. At dawn, Don Ramón found Lucía and Sofía still awake. He told them what was happening in the town, confirming what they already knew.

Alonso had managed to break the curse. He had freed everyone the devourer had taken.
But the most surprising thing was what happened to the Luján mansion. As the sun rose over the horizon, the mansion began to change. The black dampness that covered the walls disappeared. The smell of putrefaction faded. And a golden light seemed to emanate from the very stones of the

building. “It’s as if the mansion is healing,” Don Ramón murmured in amazement, as if the curse that affected it had been lifted.
Lucía nodded, finally understanding why the mansion had been such an important part of the story. It wasn’t just a property that couldn’t be sold; it was an anchor for the curse, a conduit between the world of the living and the realm of the Devourer. And now, with the curse broken, the mansion

was once again what it was always meant to be: a home.
In the following days, Lucía and Sofía put their affairs in order. They decided to stay in San Isidro, at least for a while. The townspeople, far from blaming them for what had happened, treated them with respect and gratitude. Everyone knew somehow that Alonso Luján had saved the town, although

no one knew the exact details.
A month after Alonso’s disappearance, Lucía received a letter. It had no return address, and the envelope was sealed with red wax imprinted with the spiral symbol. With trembling hands, Lucía opened the envelope and read the letter. It was from Eduardo. Dear Mom, it said, “I don’t know how this letter

will reach you, but I feel it will. I want you to know that I’m okay.
We all are. Dad saved us, broke the curse, and set us free. Now we are at peace in a place beyond the stars. Don’t be sad for us. We have found the happiness we could never have in life. And Dad is with us. He is our guardian, but not like the Devourer

wanted.
He is our protector, our light in the darkness. He guides us to what comes next. One day we will all be reunited. But until then, Mom lives, lives for all of us, and watches over Sofia. She is special, she is the last of the Lujans, but she doesn’t carry the curse. On the contrary, she carries a

blessing, an ability to see beyond the veil, to connect with what is beyond our world.
That ability frightened her before, but now it may be her gift. We love you, Mom. We always will. Eduardo.” Lucía read the letter over and over again. Tears of Joy and sadness mingled on his cheeks. Finally, he put it in his pocket and went to look for Sofia. He found her in the mansion’s garden,

sitting under a young oak tree that had sprouted where before there had only been dry grass.
“I have something.”

“For you,” Lucía said, handing her the letter. Sofía read it silently, a smile gradually lighting her face. When she finished, she looked at her mother with shining eyes. “They’re fine,” she said. “Everyone is fine, and Dad is with them.” Lucía nodded, sitting next to her daughter. “I know, darling,

I know.” They looked together at the young oak tree that seemed to grow before their eyes, its branches stretching toward the sky like open arms.
And for a moment, just for a moment, Lucía thought she saw a familiar figure among the leaves, a man with kind eyes and a sad but contented smile, a man who had given everything to save those he loved. Alonso Lujan, the last guardian. The Lujan mansion still stands to this day,

though it no longer belongs to the family.
Sofía, the last of the Lujans, decided to donate it to the town to become a museum and library. They named it The Guardian’s House in Alonso’s honor. As for Sofía, she followed her brother’s advice. She learned to use her gift, her ability to see beyond the veil, to help

others.
She became a kind of mediator between the living and the dead, helping people who, like her family, were haunted by shadows from the past. And as for the old oak tree in the center of the forest, it is said that if you go there on a moonless night and listen closely, you can hear voices,

the voices of children laughing and playing, free at last from the darkness that had claimed them.
And among them, a deeper voice, the voice of a father who gave his life to save his children. The voice of the last guardian. But that, dear friends, is another story for another day. Thank you for joining me on this journey through the dark passages of the Luján family’s history. If you enjoyed

this story, don’t forget to subscribe to The Cursed Inkwell for more stories that challenge the line between reality and nightmare. Until next time.
And remember, some doors are better kept closed. M.