Entry #25

Adan

We put Lope in the pin where horses of an abnormal disposition tend to kick and writhe. How could a mission possess a prison? This was the best we could do. It is barred off, mostly, and the rest is boarded around this enclosed space big a enough for a fully bred, untamed horse. Even if those other people had not gone mission, the fact he killed Lope was still cause enough to lock him away. The stable manager agreed to keep an eye on him, as well as a quieter soldier named Elias. He was silently smoking as Leoncio and I accompanied Alvarelo into the stables.

"Send word to Captain Gonzalo, and to the nearest missions. We need him removed."

"Yes, Father," Alvarelo said, securing a saddle around the horse's back and belly. I was already setting his ride up with a bridle. He began to chomp away at the metal bit now plunged past his teeth.

"Pray you don't take too long," Lope rattled his bars with a passing glance from his fist.

Father Alvarelo eyed Lope with a measured, hateful gaze. He took the reigns in hand, and bundled his coat around his shoulders. "I will return very soon. I promise, we will be helped."

"Ride quicky," Father Leoncio struck the horse's thigh, sending Father Alvarelo off from the mission. He cleared the courtyard in a matter of moments, and was already descending the hill. He disappeared under the curve, and I met Father Leoncio's gaze. He was otherwise preoccupied with the pin. Lope was quiet. For the first time in hours, he said nothing, and he was still. Father Leoncio kept me behind him and went to inspect the pin. He was ensnared by Lope.

His fingers coiled around Father Leoncio's neck. I launched myself at the pin's bars, trying to pry Father Leoncio free. Father Leoncio was snapped against one of the bars. He crumbled to the ground, unconscious, and I in turn was grabbed. Lope must have hidden in the shadows to surprise a keen eye like Father Leoncio's. He had also used the Father as bait. He knew I would try to help, and he even pulled me close to the bars and sneered:

"So predictable." I pushed against him, and I shoved against the bars to try and get away from his grasp. His voice was wet in my ear, and he huffed in and out through his nose like a bull. He was horrifying. More warbles, these on his neck, along his shoulders, covering him. "Too bad you could not save, Pepita," he giggled, and he licked me with one, long stroke of his tongue just as the soldier arrived. He pointed his musket inside, snarling and barking.

"Get away from her - get away from the bars!"

Lope hissed, and released my neck. I stumbled into the soldier's arms, and with such force too. The soldier Elias was strong, but I struck him with what I supposed was the force of a boulder, for he tumbled back so short of breath.

Elias threw me off, and Father Leoncio was to my side to lend his support. The soldier brought up his musket, and Lope caught the barrel.

“Go ahead,” his lips curled in an unnatural snarl that revealed each tooth tile in his mouth. “Shoot him,” he planted the mouth of the barrel right to his throat, and leaned on it with a sickening giggle. “Shoot him through the throat,” he commanded in an inhuman voice, but that had to be the barrel pressing so deep into his neck. “See where I go,” he tittered, and Elias wrenched his gun away. Lope fell to the floor, coughing and hacking, and all the while laughing in the midst of this heaving.

“Come away from here,” Father Leoncio said firmly, pulling me to my feet. “This is not a man, this is a mad dog,” he told me as we moved through the courtyard.

“He has been acting strange, ever since Carmen disappeared.”

“There is something I believe, a matter that I find hard to approach.”

This was peculiar. Though I have found a middle ground with Father Leoncio, I find it remarkable that anything could unbalance him this way. I have never known him to have any trepidation, and here is; a brow furrowed in doubt, his gaze distant as if looking through the courtyard.

“What is that, Father Leoncio?”

“I believe Lope may be at the heart of these disappearances. The brutal way he took Pepita’s life, such a horrible deed makes me sure he is capable.”

“I cannot bring myself to disagree with you, Father. I will confess, my tolerance for the man is thin. Pepita was close to me, and I know he abused her. What should we do?”

“Alvarelo will return upon sending word to Mexico and Yucatan. Until then, we can only keep Lope locked up, guarded. I fear some of his men may be too loyal to him, that they might try to free him.”

“This is my fear as well. Father, there is something else I need to speak to you about.”

He stopped, he looked at me. “Tell me.”

“When I came here... oh, such a day seems so distant to me now. The mission was a lovely place, and sure the soldiers were rowdy, but they were never so cruel. The Tairona were happy. Over the past few months, though... Father, I feel evil here. A terrible notion has settled in my bones, and I feel watched and followed. My dreams are so infected these days. I barely sleep, I barely eat...”

“Shhh, there is no point in crying,” he tucked his thumb under the cuff of his robe, and drew the end of the sleeve over my cheeks. “Calm yourself, keep speaking.”

I took a deep breath. “I think the Devil has come upon this place.”

He watched me carefully, a gaze that desired more than anything to prove I was wrong because of this reason, that reason, and furthermore this reason, too. He could not, and he looked away. “You speak my own thoughts to their final attitudes.”

“Father, we must do something – ”

“We will. I will think of something. For now, I require you to rest. Until we can rid ourselves of Lope for good, we will need to keep our wits about us. Meet me in the mess in the morning, and we will try and think of something.”

I retired to bed. My night shirt was much lighter than my habit; the act of shedding such materials seemed to relieve me of a burden. Every thread seemed to heavy lately and the collar so tight to my neck. Odd, the garment had never been uncomfortable before. As I lay down, the sheets and blanket drew around me like a closing flower, and I nestled into my pillow.

The room was hot though, a sweat overcame me as I began to toss in turn in my bed. A heavy weight was on my chest, pressing into my bones, making it hard to breathe. There was darkness in my sleep swallowing me whole. Not a visible nightmare, just a sensation that pinched the back of my neck.

I awoke, coiling into a ball, tearing at my neck, covering my mouth and simply sobbing. It was not what I saw, it was what I felt. A presence that even now upon waking I still feel hovering around me. I thought I heard laughing, that giggle that Lope was uttering what seemed moments ago. Before I knew it, I had swung my legs over my bed, and I was to my feet, moving toward the kitchen.

Lope looked up when I stepped into the barn. I heard him breathe in deeply through his nose, and in the semi-light of the moonlight coming through the bar I could see his lips part into a mischievous, mean grin. “Hermana Nieve.”

I stood, watching.

“You look as if you saw a ghost. Would you like me to hold you?”

I approached.

“Hermana Nieve, that is it. Come closer. I can keep you safe from the wicked.”

He saw the knife in my hand.

“Oh. What do you intend to do with that, little Nieve.”

My hand shook, and the tears burned my eyes. “You killed Pepita. You killed all those people, too. Tell me.”

“If it is what you want to hear, I will admit to it all freely and without reservation. What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?”

“Bring them back, but you cannot do that.”

“I would not be so sure about that. Come closer, I have something to show you.”

“Why would you do that? How could you?”

“Why not?”

“You should not live,” I choked on the words, I tightened my grip around the knife. “Those people were innocent.”

“Innocent? Like you?”

He was a monster, draped against the bars, the warbles in his skin all squirming and wriggling with the warms deep inside. His mouth seemed unhinged like the pythons I had seen in the jungle, he never blinked, just penetrated me with a bizarre stare.

“Nieve,” I heard a voice behind me.

“Father,” came my stammering voice.

“Step away from the cage.”

Lope reached for me with a blistered hand, infected and quivering with the white larva. “You are so close, Nieve. You are so close.”

“Nieve,” Father Leoncio persisted, “do not listen to him. He is taken by the devil himself.”

Lope bristled. “Gabriel, stay out of this.”

“Come away, Nieve. Give me the knife.”

I was shaking, and Father Leoncio would tell me I was not myself. So wanton of brutal movement to Lope’s place, my hands trembling from fingertip to knuckle, but unable to move. There was a part of me, until now unbeknownst to me, that wanted nothing more than to slit him hope. The other half begged restraint, attempted to bridle such a sudden, uncontrollable hatred. Father Leoncio’s carefully plucked the knife from my hand.

“I am just taking this, and we will go back to bed.”

“Yes,” Lope rattled his cage, “take her back to your bed Gabriel. Take her back to you bed! Keep her warm.”

I collapsed into his arms, I remember nothing else.