In Mexican folklore, every person has a nahual (an animal spirit). When someone dies, their nahual cries for seven nights, wandering as a shadow. If it can’t say goodbye, the soul gets trapped between worlds. That’s why families hold vigils for seven days to guide the nahual to rest.

It’s believed that after death, the soul wanders for seven days, slowly understanding it has passed on, since death can arrive too quickly to comprehend.

Long ago, in the mysterious Pululahua crater near Quito, there was a strange hill known as Cerro del Chivo—Goat Hill. People believed it was a cursed place, where strange things happened, especially at night. It was said to be the darkest and most feared hill in the entire area.

According to legend, a long time ago, a wealthy man owned a herd of goats that grazed near the volcano. He was greedy and cruel, and he treated his workers terribly. One day, a poor farmer warned him: “If you continue mistreating people, nature will punish you.” The rich man laughed and ignored him.

One afternoon, the sky was turning dark, even though it was still early. Suddenly, the earth began to shake, and a terrifying noise came from deep inside the crater. The goats ran wildly, and the rich man disappeared. Some say he was swallowed by the earth. Others say he was turned into a black goat, cursed to wander the hill forever.

Since then, locals have said that if you go near the hill at night, you might hear the sound of goats or see strange shadows moving in the mist. If the greedy man had listened to the warning, he might have been saved. But now, the hill stands as a reminder that no one is greater than nature.

La Mana is considered an energetic place full of strange sightings, as it is located near the Llanganates National Park. Some people who live in the area claim to have seen strange lights in the sky, precisely in the area where there is a stone pyramid believed to be associated with ancient civilizations and an inexplicable energetic connection.

And it is precisely here where supernatural and unexplainable energies are felt, according to what local residents say.

In 1532, Spanish conquistador Francisco Pizarro captured Inca emperor Atahualpa in Cajamarca, Peru. Atahualpa offered a room full of gold and silver for his release, but Pizarro executed him in 1533. General Rumiñahui, tasked with transporting 750 tons of treasure from Quito, hid it in Ecuador’s Llanganates Mountains upon learning of Atahualpa’s death, possibly in a cave or lake. Despite centuries of searches, guided by clues like the Derrotero de Valverde and maps, the treasure—worth $10–20 billion today—remains undiscovered. Some believe it may also include Atahualpa’s mummified body, significant for Inca rituals. The legend symbolizes Inca resistance and fuels ongoing quests in the rugged Llanganates.

The legend of Guagua Auca explains the volcanic activity in the Ecuadorian Andes, especially the eruptions and the roaring that often precedes these events.

The legend tells of Guagua Auca as a mischievous child with immense power. He lived in the bowels of Cotopaxi, and his behavior reflected the state of the volcano. According to the story, when Guagua Auca is calm, Cotopaxi remains serene, with its snow-capped summit. However, when the child becomes angry, he begins to scream and move violently inside the volcano. This causes tremors and underground roars.

If the Guagua Auca is particularly angry, his anger spills out in the form of ash and lava, which are the result of volcanic eruptions. The smoke and clouds emanating from the crater are interpreted as the child's breath exhaling in his fury.

Furthermore, some versions of the legend suggest that the Guagua Auca has a relationship with other volcanoes, such as Tungurahua or Chimborazo, sometimes considering them his siblings or playmates. When one of them is active, it is often interpreted as an interaction between these volcanic "children."

One day, a stranger ignored the warnings and filled a jug from the lake. Suddenly, storm clouds gathered, the earth trembled, and he dropped the jug in fright. The water returned to the lake, and the storm cleared. Since then, locals believe the lake must always be treated with reverence—the spirits protect it, and only those who respect nature can safely visit its shores.

This legend reminds everyone to honor natural places and the spirits believed to dwell within Ecuador’s unique landscapes.

Now, people say that’s why Altar and Carihuairazo are broken and full of craters, the fight left them wounded. Tungurahua, filled with anger and sadness, still breathes smoke today, but Chimborazo, proud and tall, has forgiven her and remains majestic in the Andes.

— Never walk alone at dusk along the path by the old mill… that's where the Goblin lives, and he doesn't like the curious.

But Luzmila, as restless as the hummingbirds fluttering around the orchard, disobeyed one day. Tired of carrying heavy baskets, she decided to take a shortcut past the mill.

The air changed. Everything fell silent. In the middle of the path appeared a small boy, dressed in old-fashioned clothes with a wide-brimmed hat covering his face. He spoke in a sing-song voice:

— I can help you, Luzmila. Just tell me your full name…

She hesitated. She remembered her grandmother’s words: “Never give your name to the Goblin.”

So she lied.

— My name is Rosa María.

The boy laughed, spun around, and vanished into the mist. That night, Luzmila dreamed of talking trees and winding paths that twisted like snakes. She woke up drenched in sweat, and from then on, each evening, someone gently tapped on her window… even though they lived far from anyone else.

When her grandmother found out, she lit a white candle and placed a branch of rue by the door, praying ancient prayers in Kichwa.

— You made a pact, Luzmila. But because you lied to him, the Goblin is confused. You must break the bond.

Luzmila returned to the path, carrying a tagua amulet, a piece of guayusa bread, and the truth in her mouth. This time, the Goblin was waiting.

— Have you come to tell me your real name? he asked.

— My name is Luzmila. But I don’t want to go with you.

The Goblin sighed, lowered his hat, and said:

— I won’t return… for now. But someday, when you’re sad or alone, I will come to find you.

From that day on, Luzmila never took shortcuts again. But the villagers still remember her story. They say that when you hear a whistle among the trees at dusk, it’s the Goblin, still searching for children who dare to lie to him.

Cotopaxi cried so much that his tears filled the volcano’s crater, and that is how the beautiful Quilotoa Lagoon was formed.

The local people believe this lagoon is the reflection of Cotopaxi’s broken heart, and a special place where spirits protect nature.

Their burial was found in 1977 and has become a symbol of eternal love. Today, you can visit the Museo Amantes de Sumpa, where their remains are displayed. This discovery teaches us not only about ancient traditions, but also about the human need for love and companionship—even thousands of years ago.

She appears late at night, wearing a long black dress and a lace veil that covers her face completely. She is said to be incredibly beautiful and elegant, walking silently through dimly lit streets.

Men who see her are drawn to her beauty and follow her, enchanted. She says nothing—just gestures for them to come closer. But when the man is finally alone with her, far from the crowds, she lifts her veil.

What they see underneath is a horrifying skull or a demonic face, and the man either drops dead from fear, loses his mind, or vanishes forever.

Some say she is the spirit of a woman who was vain and cruel in life, cursed to roam the earth forever. Others believe she appears to punish unfaithful or lustful men.

To this day, in some parts of Ecuador, people say:
"If you're walking home at night and meet a beautiful woman in black who doesn't speak—look away, and don't follow her."

The Legend of the Tsáchila Who Became the Sun

Many generations ago, when the earth was shrouded in mist and the sky was cold and dark, the Tsáchilas did not know the light of day. The forest was a labyrinth of shadows, and time seemed to be asleep.

A wise Tsáchila, concerned for his people, climbed to the highest peak of the sacred mountain and offered his energy to the ancestral gods. Covered in achiote—symbol of life and protection—he raised his arms and sang in an ancient tongue.

The gods heard his call. In reward for his sacrifice, they lifted him into the sky and transformed him into the sun: a blazing disk that banishes darkness and guides future generations.

Ever since, the Tsáchilas honor the sunrise by painting themselves with achiote, remembering that light was born from the brave heart of one of their own.

Long ago, in the Andes, there was a strong and passionate woman named Mama Tungurahua. She fell in love with a brave warrior, Taita Chimborazo, who lived on a nearby mountain. Their love was powerful, but the gods disapproved because both were volcanoes. One day, Chimborazo left to fight in a distant war and never returned. Mama Tungurahua waited for years. Her sadness turned into anger, and she cried so much that fire and ash came from her heart. She transformed into the Tungurahua volcano, which still erupts with rage and sorrow. Today, people say that when the volcano roars, it is Mama Tungurahua crying for her lost love. This legend explains why the volcano remains active in Ecuador.

In the Andean region of Ecuador, among green mountains and quiet villages, stands the Tungurahua volcano, towering and feared by many. While scientists explain it as an active volcano with frequent eruptions, the local people believe in something deeper and older: the spirit of Mama Tungurahua.

Legend has it that hundreds of years ago, when gods still walked among humans, the mountain was a beautiful woman named Mama Tungurahua, wife of the powerful Taita Chimborazo. They lived happily—until he fell in love with a younger mountain: Carihuairazo.

When Mama Tungurahua discovered the betrayal, she wept with such fury that the fire in her heart broke the earth, and her body transformed into a volcano. Ever since, whenever she is angry, the volcano trembles, roars, and spits ash, like a woman crying out over lost love. Her tears become hot rain and ash, and her rage can be felt in even the farthest villages.

Locals believe that when Mama Tungurahua erupts, it’s not just a geological event—it’s her furious soul crying out for justice. That’s why, before every possible eruption, the village elders light candles, offer flowers, and pray to calm her spirit.

Despite scientific advances, many locals say they have dreamed of her—dressed in fire, walking through the mist, and they feel her presence is still alive. The myth has passed down through generations, reminding us that nature is not only to be respected, but also heard and honored.

She appeared only at night—dressed in a long white gown, her face hidden beneath a delicate lace veil. Men who walked alone were often enchanted by her elegance and silence. She never spoke, only gestured for them to walk beside her.

Those who followed her down the winding alleys of the old city would disappear into the night. Some were found the next morning, terrified, their hair turned white, unable to speak of what they had seen. Others were never found again.

They say the Shadow Bride was once a woman named Isabela, abandoned at the altar by a wealthy man who chose fortune over love. Heartbroken, she died alone in a small chapel. On stormy nights, her spirit rises—searching not for revenge, but for someone brave enough to walk beside her without fear.

One man, a humble musician, is said to have returned unharmed. He offered her a song instead of fear. As he played, she slowly vanished into the morning mist, and the city knew peace—at least for a while.

To this day, if you hear faint footsteps behind you in the quiet hours of Quito’s night, do not turn around too quickly. It might be the Shadow Bride, still searching for someone who sees her not as a ghost… but as a forgotten soul.

One night, after hearing the same question again, he finally changed. He returned to the monastery and never left again. He became a good and faithful priest.

Today, people say the statue still speaks to those who lose their way, reminding them to return to the right path.

The Caja Ronca is a procession of spirits who wander in search of peace, dragging chains and making metallic sounds.

The procession is said to travel through the streets of Ibarra, especially the San Juan Calle area and the old San Felipe neighborhood.

Please be advised that you should not disturb the procession or speak to them, as this could have serious consequences.

The legend is passed down from generation to generation, instilling fear and respect for the supernatural in the Ibarra community.