My full name is Asa Ezequiel Rodriguez (Asael is my entire first name; Hebrew name picked from somewhere within the Bible, meaning “God’s right hand”). I used to be just like you, until a fatal accident changed my life entirely…
Are you ready for this true story…?! If you are, grab your popcorn and cozy blanket, and perhaps that baby pacifier you use when nobody is looking. This will become quite a ride as you read on!
One rainy night my parents and I were coming back home, when a heavily drunk asshole hit our Peugeot (that’s a car, for you Americans that do not know) and sent us all to the near Mar Del Plata’s main hospital (Mar Del Plata, Argentina, where I was born and raised). I had been injured pretty badly, and actually much more than my parents; the ambulance couldn’t revive me as I was in a deep unconscious state, losing blood and seizing every five minutes. Once there, the hospital team did everything they could to bring me back to life, but it was too late, for I was dead, gone from this physical plane.
Several minutes later, I don’t know how or why (I just know that nothing that happens to us human beings is random, all has a purpose in life–even when we do not understand what’s happening) but I returned to life, and greatly changed (not just in physical function but in other aspects as well).
Now, I won’t tell you that while dead or unconscious without pulse I saw some brilliant light or angels or pearly gates swung open or anything like that. Let your imagination fly. There is not enough use of good imagination now-a-days, most people just watches reality TV shows where idiots fight over who’s going to use the toilet next and over who used all the toilet paper. It’s pitiful.
After that, to make it shorter, I acquired certain talents or “conscious endowments.” And in the course of many months, I encountered great abilities head-on (granted they weren’t strong yet, but in firm transition or conscious evolution). My parents, of course, weren’t told anything because they would not have understood (you know, religious parents, or “normal-by-this-society” parents). And at the same time, I needed more time for myself and “to find me” (because I had gotten lost at the shopping mall when I went to buy some underwear). Put it simply, I wanted a job where I could meet great experiences, develop great wisdom in those extraordinary lessons from life itself, so I went in search for one.
So, after months’ search for the right one for me, Mr. Hernandez–a Psychic Investigator and a nice man–gave me the opportunity to earn some cash (some pesos), and I joined his ‘MarDel Retards Paranormal’ agency as an apprentice. (Needless to say, I think he had confused me with a retard, but, to be honest, when I went to my job interview I was loaded with the Novocaine my dentist had pumped in my mouth that morning, so, of course, I was drooling like a river was flowing out of my mouth and I couldn’t talk well; but, on the other hand, that incident did help me get the job, so all worked out great for me.)
Mr. Hernandez had gotten a call from the police dept. to go check out a “especial case for Paranormal Retards”, or a possible murder lead from an “unknown source”. This would be my first case. Although, this time I had stayed at the office because I had needed to use the bathroom very badly, and also because the OfficeMart truck was suppose to deliver a couch and Mr. Hernandez had wanted me to be there to receive it.
The delivery truck was pulling over up front by the sidewalk. You could see the giant display of colors and the words ‘OfficeMart makes it easier to rob your place if you’re not home’ (or some better translation of it from Spanish verbose) printed on the side of it.
Let me now introduce you to the nitty-gritty of the first case which I call…
Booooohh… gives me chills just to think about it… “The Vampire’s Slaughterhouse!”
When Mr. Hernandez came back, we both went to take a look at this ominous house of old-looking existence. To the cellar, where our retarded intuition took us. Once there, my mind was racing. I told myself to calm the fuck down, hold on tight to the three pounds of garlic to scare any vampires, and concentrate! Even having this conscious energy inside of me and this knowledge I had acquired of the supernatural wasn’t enough. I could feel my heart pounding, my hands sweating, while forcing my legs to keep marching to that cellar. And the worst, the smell was getting to me, revolting my stomach. See, I hadn’t shower in a month.
Then I realized night would soon come, and darkness was the perfect playground for any creature or demon. I had to pay attention to signs and sensations, having my surroundings in check at all times, looking for anything with even a teeny tiny presence. Finally we arrived to the cellar–old and partially cracked wood, a few paint scrapings on the doors, vampire vomit all over, and the room smelled like vampires had farted. Very common, I thought.
After we opened wide the heavy doors, we climbed down the stairs…
The first few steps we took were lit by the natural light from the outside (it wasn’t completely dark out yet), then we had to look for the switch to turn on the light as it was getting obscurer. Shit!-– The lights then turned on at the same time, it looked like lightning–a couple of flashes and flickers and then they settled. I noticed it was a large cellar, a lot of red and green blood, and also pee in storage (I had learned these creatures of the night drank the pee of their victims as well, as some kind of ritual), and some boxes containing stuffed Teddy bears on the sides. Did they also sell stuffed bears on the black market…?! Ghastly! Macabre!
A lot of twists and turns. A few rooms at the end, shelves with old and dusty magazines–a lot of vampire’s gay pornography. Everything seemed storage and junk. Suddenly, I tripped over a pile of bras and panties! These bastards also kept them from their victims as souvenirs. Sick Fucks!, I thought.
I couldn’t help but thinking that Demonitus could be part of this! Heisademon I found in the list of popular demons. Andwhatdodemonsdo?—tortureandscarepeople!Goodpeople!
(Oh, by the way, Demonitus had also been the first demon I had seen when I was dead in the hospital; however, back then I had no idea of what it was exactly–a product of my imagination, the memory of a horror movie, a subconscious fear of death itself…?? And then it had appeared next to the coffin of my dead friend. But the real shock for me was that he was fat and carried a big fork around–always thought that demons were fit or at least slim, because the spiritual body tends to have no need for physical food, and thus no need for a big fork either).
And as I kept onward, seconds later, the lights of this section of the cellar went off too leavingusintotaldarkness! I tried to turn the switch back on but it was all riddled with vomit, and it felt like some force was holding the light switch in one position! I tried and tried, and at one point I thought my fingers were about to be broken–the darn thing appeared to be rock! Oh mamma!– The air around me turned cold and heavy! Everywhere I looked was pitch black! My mind started playing tricks on me. I felt a swift touch on my shoulder– “Mr. Hernandez, did you touch me?! I–I’m not gay, dude.”
My confused mind started then coming up with all these frightening images and odd sensations of pure dread that gotten worse as he didn’t answer. “…Mr.–” I swallowed nervously, “Mr. Hernandez, did you–”Jesus!– Again. Someone was definitely in the room! Shit–Who was touching my shoulder, again? I spun halfway. My stance had been rooted to the ground, my feet firm as a rock. But as I turned around I lost my balance, snatched the air trying to get a grip on something, then, SLAAMM!–I dropped down like a bag of potatoes!
‘An eerie someone!’ It all seemed spooky and odd. I noticed I had fallen on top of something, and this something felt like a fat pig. “Mr. Hernan–” Couldn’t finish my thought. What had happened to him? Something had happened to him, something that had occurred in the split of a second. I then tried to remember a noise or something which could have hinted me of his fall, but all had taken place so fast. I was in the dark, confused, overwhelmed, nervous. This ‘eerie someone’ obviously did not want me to be down here–that much I knew at the moment.
I drummed a few on his face. “Mr. Hernandez, are you okay? Are you okay, Mr. Hernandez? … ARE YOU OKAY, YOU FAT PIG?!” I almost lost my marbles. After he squinted a few times and shielded his eyes from the strong light, he came to. By now, the room really smelled of vomit and farts. Not good for my allergies. Hard to breathe as well.
“What–What happened,” he drawled weakly. He then eyed me disoriented as he sat up.
“Are you okay?” I repeated. Christ!– “You have red lipstick kisses all over your face! Did the demon kiss you?!” …But you’re a fat pig; how can anyone wanna kiss you…??’ I thought to myself.
“I–I don’t remember…” he started, “I fell. I must have fainted.” He felt uneasy and odd, which worried me so. His eyes looked lost like a puppy’s, and his facial expression painful and awkward.
“What happened to you?” I pointed at the blood stain. “You are bleeding.” I took a better look at the area. The wounded are was close to his neck. And as I checked nearer, I found very tiny marks not too deep into the muscle–this is where my knowledge of anatomy paid off. They were one above the other, they weren’t life-threatening or anything like that.
But how–?? What–?? Can’t it be possible..?? As I studied the odd marks I also noticed their pattern, and they looked like needles. Honestly, I didn’t know what to make of it. What would I tell him? What was I suppose to say?– Someone had tried to had his way with him? A large group of ghostly ticks in love with his neck, perhaps? …
However, reader, I cannot tell you more, too scary for you.
I am an author, philosopher, poet, book reviewer, fine-art painter, health expert, lover of life. Through my creative writing I seek inspiration and to inspire others.
I know that all the love and happiness live already inside us, and if we can just silence our minds we might just connect more with our pure hearts.
“Limitations live in our minds, but if we use our imaginations, our possibilities become limitless.” ~Jamie Paolinetti; writer and director.
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