Escribo relatos donde lo cotidiano se vuelve extraño, anómalo, siniestro o simplemente terrorífico. Historias que borronean los límites entre lo real, lo imaginario y lo simbólico.
Me gusta proponer una realidad oscilante. Intento ponerle letra a tus pesadillas. Aspiro a rescatar el asombro del Universo.
lunes, 21 de septiembre de 2015
A FATEFUL ACHIEVEMENT
A FATEFUL ACHIEVEMENT
"By the power of Solomon’s cabalistic words
«Abracadabra Elohim» which only You and him have the knowledge of, I conjure Thee,
Lucifer, Luzbel and Satan to show
yourself at once! I demand it thus!"
I must haste,
and you must forgive me and excuse my lack of urbanity.
I already forebode the viscous creep, the greed, and foretaste of a brutal
chase. His pestilent breath filled corridors and the flowers in the
inner courtyard have suddenly withered. A different silence corrodes the Abbey.
I grieve for the fate of my brotherhood monks much more than the ruin of our
treacherous Abbot. But I do not want my grudge to distract me while unspeakable
shadows take hold of my spirit. What I feel is
not fear, it is something else, deeper, bygone. Darkness, pain, and
sorrow are useless words. I should have burnt
the book and thus prevent any of the misfortunes. But I see now the futility of
such action. For a time after time, through the ages, it returns from where it
hides, from the tombs and the monuments to seize the innocent decoders of the
Occult, pious exorcists, and fierce necromancers. Woe of those who
believe it is possible to control the ancient demons! Woe of those idealists
who expect to subdue them by will! Woe
betides us all! I have no time to recall how I learned the fluvii transitus, some sorcery´s forbidden alphabet but suffice it to say that for a copyist of my renown,
there exist few things still unknown.
Still, I recognize I labored at deciphering the spell. However, and as I was
pronouncing the invocation, I understood
my fateful achievement: an infamous thunder told me that abominable doors were
opening like slobbering jaws to demand a sacrifice beyond blood. No need to see
it. I am aware I have released a procession of unclean beasts preparing the
advent of the One most perfect, most frightening. I do not fear death. I dread
the notion of perpetual pain while hoping I will be brave. I do not deserve
God's forgiveness. I am defeated by my appetite
for revenge. Vanity is not a good counselor. Neither is anger for it is
the grimmest of guides. At this time, I declare and for all posterity that this
book is not the work of King Solomon for a wise man such as him, would never submit to the writing of such
blasphemies. I hear now the claws piercing the refectory door. He is coming.
Pray for me. No, better yet, pray for thy souls for He will go after you all.
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