The Witch of El Yunque Rainforest

The Call of the Forest

Elena had grown up at the edge of El Yunque, where the jungle met the small town of Río Grande. As a child, she spent her days climbing over moss-covered rocks, wading through crystal-clear streams, and collecting the stories her grandmother told by candlelight.

But that was years ago.

Now, at twenty-six, she had returned from the mainland, her heart heavy with something she couldn’t name. Life in the city had never felt right. She missed the scent of rain-soaked earth, the song of the coquí frogs at dusk, the way the mist curled around the trees like whispers from another world.

She also missed her grandmother.

Doña Carmen had passed away the year before, leaving behind a house full of memories and a single piece of jewelry—a pendant set with an emerald stone.

*"Wear it always, mi niña,"* her grandmother had said, pressing it into Elena’s palm. *"It will protect you."*

Elena never took it off.

The morning she decided to enter the jungle, the air was thick with humidity. The scent of wet leaves clung to her skin as she adjusted the straps of her backpack. She had packed light—just a water bottle, a machete, her notebook, and a flashlight.

And then, just as she was about to step into the trees, she heard it.

A voice.

Faint. Almost like the wind.

*"Elenaaaa…"*

She froze.

The sound came again, a whisper slipping through the leaves.

She turned sharply, scanning the trees. There was no one there.

It was just the wind.

It had to be.

Taking a steadying breath, she stepped into the jungle.

A Path Not Meant to Be Found

El Yunque was alive in a way few places were. The rainforest pulsed with unseen energy, its thick canopy trapping the heat, the scent of wild orchids hanging in the air.

Elena moved carefully, following an old, barely visible trail that wound its way deeper into the forest.

The stories always said that *La Bruja* appeared only to those she chose.

But why would she choose Elena?

Hours passed.

The deeper Elena went, the more she felt… watched. Not in the way one feels when passing a stranger on the street, but something deeper. An ancient presence pressing against her skin, unseen eyes tracking her every step.

Then she saw it.

A marking on the trunk of a ceiba tree.

It wasn’t just a random carving. It was a *symbol*. Intricate spirals weaved into each other, forming a shape that seemed to shift when she stared at it for too long.

When she touched it, the forest held its breath.

And then the whispers began.

*"You should not be here."*

Elena’s breath hitched.

That wasn’t the wind.

*"Who’s there?"* she called.

No answer.

A shadow moved between the trees.

She turned, her heart hammering, but there was nothing.

And then—just beyond the clearing—a light. A faint, bluish-green glow hovering above the ground.

Despite every instinct screaming at her to turn back, she stepped forward.

The Woman in the Water

The light flickered as she approached, leading her through dense foliage, past vines and gnarled roots, until she reached a pool at the base of a waterfall. The water shimmered in the dim light, an unnatural glow dancing across its surface.

And standing at its edge was a woman.

She was unlike anyone Elena had ever seen. Her gown, deep green like the jungle itself, clung to her frame, flowing like liquid silk. Long black hair cascaded down her back, streaked with silver. And her eyes—impossibly green, brighter than the pendant around Elena’s neck—glowed in the dim light.

Elena swallowed.

*"You seek answers."*

The woman’s voice was like the wind through the trees—soft yet commanding, ancient yet alive.

Elena found her voice. "Are you… *her*?"

The woman smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. It was knowing.

*"I have had many names. Some call me a witch. Others a protector. What do you call me?"*

Elena hesitated.

"I don’t know yet."

The woman tilted her head.

*"Good. That means you are listening."*

The Choice That Cannot Be Undone

Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and deep, a warning from the heavens.

*"The jungle is dying,"* the woman said. *"Humans have forgotten its voice. They take what is not theirs. They poison its rivers. They do not listen."*

Elena felt a pang in her chest. She had seen it herself—illegal deforestation, garbage left by careless hikers, the slow destruction of the land she loved.

*"El Yunque needs a guardian,"* the woman continued. *"Someone to hear its cries. To protect it when others will not."*

Elena shook her head. "I don’t understand. Why me?"

The woman’s gaze flickered to the pendant around Elena’s neck.

*"Because you are already chosen."*

The emerald stone gleamed.

Elena’s pulse quickened.

*"Stay,"* the woman said. *"And you will never be the same. Leave, and this will all fade from your memory. The choice is yours."*

Elena looked around—the towering ceiba trees, the mist curling around the water, the presence of something ancient, something bigger than herself.

And then she looked at the woman.

Her fate was sealed the moment she stepped into the jungle.

She took a breath.

And stepped forward.

Epilogue: The New Guardian

No one ever saw Elena Vasquez again.

But the legend of *La Bruja de El Yunque* did not die.

Some say she still roams the rainforest, her figure glimpsed through the mist, her whispers carried by the wind.

Others say she became more than a woman—that her soul wove itself into the roots of the trees, the currents of the rivers, the breath of the storms.

And if you ever find yourself in the depths of El Yunque, listen carefully.

You might just hear her name.