by Stefania Gil
Those men, with their evil looks, viewed them with disgust.
Francisco and he looked into each other's eyes and ran, in different directions.
Every attempt was futile.
The inquisitors caught them and took them away.
***
Juan Carlos did not quite understand what the hell was going on.
That beautiful woman, named Carlota, was walking beside him. He had agreed to her request to stay for several reasons, even though the man with the gun tried to kill him.
He was naked. He was cold, hungry, and although it might seem that he had rested a long, long time in the confinement where he was found, the truth was he was exhausted with everything that happened to him since he left his safe jail.
To which he had no intention of returning. He would rather take a thousand bullets.
The sweet woman who walked beside him made him feel safe.
They exchanged a few words before he agreed to enter the house again. She assured him that nothing would happen to him.
He examined her with a strange fascination, as if she were a phenomenon.
Not that it wasn’t, logical, not everyone had the gift that she possessed Carlota’s gaze contained a strange mixture of admiration and curiosity.
He didn’t know what fate would bring him from that moment on, but his intuition told him that everything was going to be all right.
XI
The Inquisition arrived in Spain around 1478 at the hands of the Catholic Monarchs. No one knew for certain why the kings decided to bring them into the country. It was believed that they wanted to establish a religious unity and that the monarchy would find a very effective way to finance itself, since all the assets of the accused were confiscated.
What began in Rome, under the approval of the papal authority as an act of faith - Christian - and of the salvation of souls, became a greedy office that sought only riches and, why else, vengeance. Taking many innocents to prisons where they were tortured and killed.
Many rumors were heard of the atrocities the detainees suffered in the secret prisons of the Holy Inquisition.
Juan Carlos could not stop thinking about everything that awaited him.
He heard murmuring, but he couldn’t understand the words or identify the voices. He was in a sort of lethargy. Everything passed slowly before his eyes but in his head everything was at the speed of light.
He felt his heart galloping as the strong pressure in his chest was preventing him from breathing normally. He realized that perhaps the murmur he heard for some time but didn’t quite understand was a strange buzzing sound over his ears.
His hands were clasped together, his fingers intertwined, his lips moving but he couldn’t hear anything.
His nerves were killing him. He knew he would not be saved, and the fact that he couldn’t help his brother, who had been taken in the other chariot, was what saddened him the most.
What luck! He thought.
He felt tears trickle from his eyes. He looked around.
He was alone in a carriage cage. He listened with all his might, and then he heard the sound of the horses' hooves of the guards guarding the chariot. He could not see them, the cage was covered by a cloth.
What would happen to him?
He got a chill just thinking about everything he had heard about prisoners in those jails, and knowing that was his fate made his nervous condition even worse.
His mother managed to save them from a terrible disease and therefore, from the hands of death, warn him about the inquisitors and they, like fools, did not flee sooner. Perhaps they would have gotten rid of that callous fate that awaited them in jail and torture rooms.
He snorted at how ironic life was and how unfair it could be. His mother saved them from death and according to her, in an eternal way but Juan Carlos was not so sure because he doubted that they would outlive the creepy experience that awaited them at the hand of the ruthless men who only looked out for themselves.
Juan C. was still listening to the murmur. He took a deep breath and concentrated.
He was surprised when he realized that it was his voice that generated the murmur. His words were forming a prayer that his mother taught them when they were little. They recited it every night before going to bed. Now, Juan C. was so terrified by what was expected of him, how they just threw him into a cage, that clasped his hands and began to pray.
He needed to have faith. He wanted to think that he was going to get away with it all.
Although, deep down, he knew that his reality would be very different.
***
Juan Carlos began to cry before Carlota barely got him to sit on the toilet lid.
She was so beautiful. She looked like an angel. She was his angel because he had saved him.
Finally someone saved him!
“You're very good to me, I swear I will not hurt you.”
“Shhh” The woman came over and patted his back. “I don’t know what happened to you but everything that happened is all over. I assure you.”
Juan Carlos couldn’t speak due to his sobbing drowning his words. He needed that. Although some time ago he had come to think that he could no longer cry because he cried so day after day while being tortured in captivity and when he was locked in the coffin.
Now, she was crying with joy and, in a way, with tranquility because something told her that her infinite destiny would begin to change.
The woman turned a silver lever and from what looked like a metal stick, a large amount of water came out.
Juan Carlos did not understand what those things were.
“You can shower, and in the meantime, I'm going to get you some my husband's clean clothes.”
He just nodded. He did not understand what a shower was, perhaps he would have asked her to wash him.
The tub felt familiar. They didn’t have one in his old house but in the palace yes. Was she royalty?
He tried to calm down.
He felt the need to sink into the water.
When he lived with his mother, he rarely took a bath in the river. He liked the sensation of being submerged in the water but it was well known that it was not healthy for the body because there was a risk of dying when the skin softened, a doctor once told him.
Of course, that would be for a normal person, he thought, not for himself.
So he let himself be carried away by his wishes and put a foot in the tub. The water was perfect. How was it possible? No one had brought boiled water. He reached under the stream of water coming from the metal tube.
A few minutes later, he sank into the depth of the tub.
He closed his eyes and sat there, motionless. He listened to the running water in the background and allowed his muscles to relax for the first time in a long time.
He came back to the surface when he heard voices around him.
***
“If this goes south, Carlota, we'll have our first fight and it's going to be epic. I promise!”
Ed was really worried about the psycho with the scars. His wife was determined to have him there, at their home. After behaving like a complete stranger to Ed, when she finally returned inside, accompanied by the zombie, she tried to apologize with the look that she knew would melt him and got him to accede to her unusual requests to help him and give him lodging for a few days.
Oh my GOD!
What were they getting into? It was obvious that this man was not normal.
It seemed the legend that revolved around the estate was true. Who would have believed it!
Carlota followed her instinct no matter if it got her into trouble or not. Ed loved that part of her, but at the moment he did not find her so charming. Not only was she in danger, but also their daughter. He could not allow anything to happen to the two women he loved most in life.
If, for the first time, Carl's intuition failed and they were in danger, they would all be killed because the police would take too long to arrive and the nearest estate w
as Alfonso's, a few miles away.
So it was better for Carlota that her zombie was good.
Such madness.
Ed stared at the intruder, watching with astonishment as the water fell from the showerhead. It seemed that he had never before in his life seen a shower. Carlota was looking at him in fascination.
Fascinated.
Who the fuck was that man and where did he come from?
His wife gave him a shake and looked into his eyes.
“Thank you for helping me.” Edward could see a glint in his wife's eyes that he had not seen for a long time. It was like a spark telling her that her brain was working at a thousand revolutions per nanosecond.
Ed sighed heavily.
“You have much to explain, Carlota.”
She gave him a beautiful smile and stood on tiptoe to kiss him softly on the lips.
“I'm going to leave you with my husband.” She said to Juan Carlos. “I'll wait for you downstairs with a good cup of coffee.”
The man, who still looked around curiously, nodded.
“Let's start from zero.” Ed told Juan Carlos once they were alone. “What is your name?”
“Juan Carlos Requena, sir.”
“Well, Juan Carlos, are you going to stay there all night or are you going to get under the water.”
Juan Carlos cautiously stepped into the waterfall that was coming out of the wall.
“It's not very pleasant to watch a stranger bathe in my house so listen to me well: there's the soap and this is the shampoo” seeing Juan Carlos look doubtfully at it, he explained: “this is for your hair and this is for your body” He finished with a hand gesture that told Juan Carlos he should use both things.
He closed the shower curtain and leaned against one of the walls.
Although he still saw the intruder’s every movement thanks to his silhouette, it was much better than seeing him naked.
“You said you came out of the coffin,” Ed said.
“Yes sir. The one that is in the room under the house.”
Edward took a deep breath.
There was a coffin underneath the house and he was sure it was closely related to what his sister-in-law told him they were going to look at tomorrow in the basement. Of course, Carlota's acting strange tonight when he arrived from Alfonso's house was also related to Juan Carlos and his coffin.
He saw Juan C. take the shampoo bottle and put it on his head. He positioned it there for a few seconds before Edward realized the man had no idea what he was doing.
He opened the curtain again and could not hold his laughter when he saw Juan Carlos with the shampoo dripping down his face and in already irritated eyes.
“Give me that.” He took the bottle from his hands. “Now, with your fingertips, rub it.” He gestured for the man to imitate him. “Do the same with your beard.”
The man did as Ed indicated and then followed the advice with the bar of soap for the body.
“Haven’t you ever bathed like this before?”
The man shook his head.
Edward was beginning to look at him with great curiosity and for the first time he thought of all those legends that his wife loved that involved any kind of dark and immortal being. Yes, he was convinced the man still had a bullet in his head, even though the hole had already closed. The truth was, he didn’t look like a zombie. At least not like those seen on TV.
“Do you drink blood?” He asked as he handed Juan Carlos a towel to dry off with and approached the monkey controls in the shower to turn them off.
Juan Carlos gave him a startled look.
“No sir.”
Okay, he was not a vampire.
“Does the full moon affect you?”
A big question mark was drawn across Juan Carlos' face.
Nor was he a werewolf.
He felt ridiculous thinking those things.
Juan Carlos made the gesture of returning the towel.
Edward held up both hands.
“That's yours, my friend. I don’t want to touch the towel you've had your ass on. No thank you.” He pointed to the toilet lid. “Wrap the towel around your waist and sit there.”
Juan Carlos obeyed in silence.
“Do you become an animal?”
“No, sir.” Edward could see a half-smile outlining the man's mouth.
Great. Now he was laughing at him.
“Stop calling me ‘sir’” Edward protested. “Let's fix that long beard.”
He took out a pair of scissors and his hair clipper.
“Don’t hurt me, please.”
Edward looked at him with compassion. The man's fear was genuine.
“Take it easy. If you’re that afraid, we can leave it for later.”
He could swear the man broke into a cold sweat from fear.
Juan Carlos stood up and looked in the mirror.
“No, please, I want to see myself as I was before all this happened to me.”
They were silent while Edward was busy trimming Juan Carlos’ thick, dark beard that testified he had to have been locked in the dark coffin underground. Who knew for how long because the man seemed to be in good condition?
“Are you a witch?”
He watched as Juan Carlos's gaze filled with genuine panic.
“Easy, brother.” He tried to calm him down because that question seemed to frighten him.
He was running out of dark beings.
“An angel?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if you're an angel?”
“No sir.”
Edward turned off the machine, satisfied that he had not made the poor man look worse than what he previously did.
“There,” Edward said, pointing to a pile of clean clothes, “my wife brought you clothes.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Edward. My name is Edward. Stop calling me sir. Please.”
Juan Carlos was finishing dressing.
“How long were you locked in the coffin?”
“I don’t know exactly, but I think it was a very long time.”
“Then, if you do not have any powers and you're not a damned living dead, how the hell did you survive locked up and come back to life after I shot you?”
“Because nothing can kill me, Edward. Nothing.”
***
Carlota was about to start eating her nails like when she was a teenager and she could not control her anxiety.
“Thank you for putting Alice back to sleep.” She told her sister as soon as she entered the kitchen. There was no reply.
They were silent for a while. She knew Isabel was very angry with her for breaking the promise of not opening the coffin by herself.
It would pass. Now the important and very valuable thing, was the man who was upstairs with her husband. What was taking them so long?
She wanted to sit him down and ask him lots of questions.
She turned to make sure there was enough coffee. As it did not seem sufficient, she turned on the other coffee maker. Surely they would be there all night talking, and that required a lot of coffee.
Isabel got up and poured herself a cup.
She was not so angry then; coffee was like calling a truce between them. Whenever they quarreled or argued, they ended up making peace with a good cup of coffee.
“I knew you wouldn’t keep your promise.”
“I'm sorry.” Carlota hugged her hard. “For real.”
“You could have put us in great danger, Carlota.”
“I know, and I'm really sorry, but I couldn’t stand the curiosity. I knew there was something big hidden in there.”
“Well, there's nothing big about him,” Isabel said graciously. “Do fantasy beings really exist?”
“I've never doubted that,” replied Carlota with a wink, “I'm glad he was not dangerous.”
Isabel shook her head.
“It's just that sometimes I think you're crazy. We still do not know if he is dangerous or not.”
&nb
sp; “He isn’t.”
Carlota knew he wasn’t.
If he had been a fantastic 'devilish' being, they would all be dead.
She shivered at that though.
However, it was true.
She stood up as soon as she heard her husband come downstairs followed by Juan Carlos.
She made two cups of coffee and handed one to each man as they entered the kitchen.
Edward took a sip from his cup immediately. Juan Carlos, on the other hand, inspected the contents of his cup doubtfully.
Carlota wondered how old he had to be if he didn’t know about coffee.
Juan Carlos took a deep breath of the steaming cup beneath his nostrils. His features seemed to relax.
“He says nothing can kill him,” Edward said.
“Are you a vampire?” Carlota stepped closer to him to study his features.
The man looked at her doubtfully.
“Why do you insist on asking me that question? And besides, what is a vampire?”
Carlota smiled at him.
“He's not a vampire, he's not an angel, and if nothing can kill him, I suppose he's an immortal,” Edward added, then turned to Juan Carlos. “A vampire is a demonic being who feeds on human blood and has supernatural powers.”
Juan Carlos looked at her with concern.
“Are there many in the world?” He asked innocently.
Carlota burst into laughter as her husband and sister snorted mockingly at the question.
“We’ve never seen any,” replied Carlota. “It is a very famous worldwide myth that involves a dark being that very few things can kill and also, hides from the sun in a coffin.”
The intruder snorted.
“That’s not the case with me. Actually, nothing can kill me and I would love to sit in the sun for a long time.” He lifted the cup to his mouth, but he hesitated again before swallowing the liquid.
“It's called coffee, it's very good, give it a try.”
In Juan Carlos’ eyes, Carlota could see all the emotions he felt at this moment.
I wanted to ask you so many questions!
“How did you get to the coffin?” Edward asked the intruder.
“It’s a very long story.”
