> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://the-second-home.ghost.io/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # The Vampire of the Raval: A Barcelona Legend - URL: https://the-second-home.ghost.io/the-vampire-of-the-raval-a-barcelona-legend/ - Published: 2026-10-31T22:45:31.000Z - Updated: 2026-10-31T22:45:31.000Z - Author: Barbara Orzel Halloween is almost here, and after exploring the supposedly haunted Rocafort metro station, I thought it was time for another of Barcelona's darker stories. This one takes us to the Raval, to an ordinary building at number 29 on Carrer de Joaquín Costa. At first glance, there is nothing especially frightening about it. Balconies, windows, shops at street level. Just another building in a neighbourhood full of history. But more than a century ago, this address became associated with one of Barcelona's most disturbing urban legends. The woman at the centre of the story was Enriqueta Martí, better known as *La Vampira del Raval*. In 1912, the street was still called Carrer de Ponent. On 27 February, police entered Martí's apartment and found five-year-old Teresita Guitart, a girl who had disappeared more than two weeks earlier. Another young girl, Angelita, was also living there. The discovery made headlines. And what followed was an extraordinary mixture of criminal investigation, public fear and sensational journalism. According to the stories that began circulating, Martí was not merely a kidnapper. She was supposedly responsible for murdering children, using their bodies to prepare mysterious remedies and supplying wealthy clients with victims. Soon, she had acquired the reputation of a monster hiding in the middle of Barcelona. A vampire, although not quite the kind you would find in a Gothic novel. There was, however, a rather significant problem with this terrifying story. Much of it was never proven. The disappearance and kidnapping of Teresita were real. The apartment on Carrer de Ponent was real. Enriqueta Martí was arrested, and the case attracted enormous public attention. But the sensational accusations of serial murder and the gruesome details that became inseparable from her name were never established in court. Martí died in prison in 1913, before her trial could take place. Over the years, historians and researchers have questioned how much of the familiar story was supported by evidence and how much had been created by the newspapers of the time. Historian Elsa Plaza, for example, examined the case through the social prejudices of early twentieth-century Barcelona, including attitudes towards poverty and women. And perhaps that is the most interesting part of the story. Barcelona in 1912 was a city of striking contrasts. Modernist architecture, wealthy neighbourhoods and cultural ambition existed alongside severe poverty and social inequality. In such a setting, the image of a mysterious woman from the Raval made a particularly sensational newspaper story. Once the legend had taken shape, it proved remarkably difficult to dismantle. More than a century later, Enriqueta Martí is still remembered as the Vampire of the Raval. Her story has inspired books, fictional retellings and films. The nickname has survived far more successfully than the historical uncertainties surrounding her case. And the building on Carrer de Joaquín Costa is still there. I find something fascinating about places like this. You can walk past an ordinary doorway without noticing anything unusual, unaware of the stories attached to it. But what makes this particular legend unsettling is not the possibility that a vampire once lived behind those walls. It is the possibility that an entire city helped create one. Perhaps the most frightening part of some urban legends is not the monster itself, but how easily we come to believe in it. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/b6/8b/b68b0831-5fe6-4a64-b3e8-fe6b2cf40952/content/images/2026/10/IMG_6595.jpeg)