Some of the darkest, most unforgettable urban legends are born out of Hispanic folklore.

These are stories that shouldn't be whispered alone at night.

Hi, I'm Blair Bathory, and welcome to the Something Scary podcast.

Thank you so much for joining us as we descend into the darkness together.

So, want to hear something scary?

Tales of Terror from Hispanic Heritage Month.

Some fears only come out at night, and this is one of them, like in this experience

submitted by Mitchie.

I was never read or sung to when I was a child.

No gentle songs to lull me into safety, no comforting stories to chase away the dark.

Because of that, I had no knowledge of El Cucco.

I never ran into him during my early years until recently.

Now, I wish I have forgot him entirely.

It was a normal Saturday like any other, though for me, normal had a different rhythm.

I am an insomniac, so mornings feel like nights, and nights feel like mornings.

Around 4.50 a.m. I was lying in bed scrolling on my phone, earbuds in, trying to distract myself from the constant pressure behind my

eyes. My body had been tense all day from school, from arguments, from the awkwardness of being

17 and perpetually on edge. Then, suddenly, everything started to feel off.

My vision wavered like heat waves over asphalt, and I felt a subtle dizziness creeping in.

I barely noticed it at first, thinking it was just fatigue, until a cold draught brushed

against my shoulders. My fan and air conditioner were both off.

Confused, I pulled the covers up around my neck without opening my eyes. Then came the pain,

...