A group of residents in the beautiful Andean town of Sorata, Bolivia, got together one autumn evening to tell chilling stories about ghosts, damned souls, and hobgoblins.

It is said that a long time ago a middle-aged priest named Clemente Osorio had arrived in town coming all the way from Toledo, Spain.

This clergyman was coming to take over the religious proceedings at the church of Our Lady “Del Carmen,” the patron saint.

Father Clemente, as he was called by his parishioners, was a tall man with attractive mannerisms and quite a charismatic personality. He got to earn the people’s favor in a rather short period of time.

From the very beginning he would not only manage the church matters in a very organized and intelligent manner, but also paid close attention to the needs of the poor and homeless. He also served as a school counselor to the children in town.

Along with this charismatic priest, the town had other important members among its residents. One in particular was a man named Nemesio Campos. This fellow was a short and stocky businessman, with a good sense of humor. He was dedicated to running his commercial store located right in one of the buildings facing the town plaza.

It is said that on one occasion, Nemesio was returning home from one of his numerous trips he would take to supply his store. It just so happened that this time, due to heavy hail storms, he and his two-horse carriage ended up returning past midnight.

As they were approaching one of the main streets adjacent to the church, his horses were suddenly and violently spooked. The horses saw the appearance of a dark moving creature a few yards ahead of them. Nemesio had to stop to try and calm the horses down. After he took them to one side of the street, he decided to walk up to and approach the strange moving creature.

Since there was a bit of moonlight, Nemesio could see that the dark object was a tall man dressed like a clergyman. He had a hood over his head and a cape over his shoulders.

Upon seeing this, Nemesio instantly remembered hearing from some residents in town that Friar Clemente was seen occasionally sleepwalking in the streets near the church.

Nevertheless, Nemesio arrived next to the man dressed in black and asked in a rather loud voice, “Father Clemente, is that you? What are you doing here at this time of the night?”

Upon hearing those words, the tall figure turned around, took off his hood, opened his cape and faced Nemesio saying, “Yes, I am.

And what about you? What are you doing here? Don’t you know that the nights are for the dead and the days are for the living?”

Upon saying those words, Father Clemente’s image appeared as a dreadful gangly skeleton. Its bones were white and shining in the moonlight as if they were fluorescent. The skull had hollow eyes and a terrifying, gaping mouth. It was definitely a complete specter.

Nemesio was totally mute. He couldn’t utter a word. Soon his legs started to shake, and his nose began to bleed. Finally, he fainted, fell to the ground, and stayed there until the next morning when some neighbors saw him and picked him up. They took him home to be with his family and friends.

Once at home, Nemesio narrated the horrifying experience that he had just been through the night before. As he was finishing telling the whole event, everyone heard the church tower bells ringing. Soon the sad news was heard all over town.

The church caretaker had gone on his routine walk to check on Father Clemente’s house, and once there, he noticed that the Father’s body was laying flat on the bed. The caretaker tried to talk to the Father. But when Father Clemente didn’t respond, the caretaker lifted the Father’s sleeve to touch his wrist. There was no skin, nor blood, nor any sign of recent life. Instead he felt the cold bones of Father Clemente and the room immediately filled with a chilling cold and the scent of death.

This news was so unexpected that it left the entire town and its surroundings in a complete state of shock and sadness. The caretaker continued his routine checkings of the church’s grounds. But he never spoke a word again.