3. NAC

His next day, after a quick morning training, he was sent to some schools in the northern part of the island. There he was supposed to talk about the previous protectors, a topic he was taught since the first days as the new protector because he needed to know which were their powers.

But what children used to ask the most was about how strong he thought he was, while the teachers asked him about the New Advanced Countermeasures that were created after the government discovered him and his gift which allowed him to have all the previous protectors’ powers.

He always answered the kids that depending of the enemies, he could be a bit strong or a lot more powerful that all the past protectors. He was too modest and afraid of scaring the people, so he always tried to change the topic or look as reliable as ever. The reason he never avoided the question was because he wanted, too, give a bit of reassurance to them and make them feel safe under his protection.

Nor that he needed to do a big effort for it. The news, the government, his trainers, and everyone was so sure that he was the strongest protector, that there wouldn’t ever be enemy too powerful for him. That was one of the main reasons of why the NAC was so important for people like the teachers, for the adults.

There were 3 types of countermeasures: the firsts were created when the island closed its borders because the inexistence of supernatural powers in its people. In those there was stated where people needed to look for the bunkers, who will lead them and the military actions over the protection armament in the coasts.

The seconds were made when the protectors started to appear. There weren’t great changes, only about the need to give aid to the protectors to come to the attacked area, be for earth or sky transportation, plus the need to follow any order given for the protectors, and the help they could need after the attack was stopped.

And in the new ones there was a big addition to the old ones. After the attack, be that the ships were led away or sunk, people should remain in the bunkers for four hours. This was made as a petition from him, because he wanted to make sure that no one entered the island while he was fighting in the sea; not that he didn’t trust the militia in the coasts, but because he didn’t want to take any chances with infiltrations.

Everybody wanted to know his reasons, even though he explained the same over and over again. He wasn’t as confident as he wanted about his skills in combat and luring the enemy away, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger so they needed to understand he was one protector, not the group it used to be. Besides, he always told them how with the time, he would erase that rule. Or so he hoped.

2. Adore

The next day he left the Protectors’ house with his trainer around midday. What started as jogging training while his trainer followed him by bike, became a journey in which he came across too many people who wanted to say hi or cheer for him without disturbing his session.

At the end of his track, he felt his cheeks sore for all the smiles he had to give. It’s not that smiles were hard to do, but after needing to control his breathing and look as normal as ever, it was really a hard work that he supposed was his trainer’s aim.

He took a shower after coming back to the house, he had to go on a trip to the downtown so he could get to some TV studios where he was going to be interviewed, some even where popular variety TV shows. Back then, he never thought of himself being a celebrity, it was never his dream to be so known and kindly treated by people, he wasn’t even popular among his classmates through his school days, so now he was always nervous before coming in front of the cameras; even harder when he was meeting some true celebrities, how he used to call them.

In the last variety show they were recording, he was asked to sing, which he had to refuse because he lacked the abilities and the confidence to do it.

“Oh come one, no one will say if it was bad or not,” said one of the true celebrities while drinking from his coffee cup, he was so nervous around them that he couldn’t seeing them in the eye, even if his voice was so kind.

“Leave him be, it’s not that he grew up to be this popular, he’s not used to it yet,” defended him the program’s host, making him sigh with relief. “Although people adore you so much that even if you can’t sing, they’d think it’s cute.”

“That’s my point, you’re the most popular person in our island’s social media, have you seen it?” Without malice intended, the celebrity showed his phone with his named searched, which gave a lot of photos, mostly from his conferences and other shows, a few of them were casual photos taken from school events and the sort, surely shared by his classmates.

“No, thanks, I don’t want to know,” he said while turning his face to another side, his bother told him already all of it. “I’m still to overwhelmed by all this so… please don’t make me do it.”

“Don’t be too serious, thar’s why we asked you before doing it, we still have some backup activities and a lot more planned,” explained the host while giving him a pat in the shoulder. “People loves your smile and optimism, you’re a natural with it so that’s all we need in here.”

With just a “thanks” as an answer, the host and the celebrities started to talk about anything else while he went out to look for the restroom, not that he drank anything but to let himself be back to his calm self. Lately his doubts and hidden feelings were trying to surface, making him harder to conceal them, like this time the fear to be exposed in something as trivial as singing made the anxiousness arise.

Couldn’t he be a protector without all the celebrity part? They could thank him from far away, by the letters and emails he received or maybe just by the street, not everything else. But he understood them, they were so thankful he came to exist, that his powers manifested in the right moment. They needed the people to know he was a guy like everyone else, not some overpowered man; they thought, too, that this was the way to compensate his efforts because who never thought about being a star? Being adored by so many? Well, he didn’t.

1. People

At night, everybody walks leisurely, talking even in a quieter manner. Maybe because they’re tired, maybe because the night is calming or because they prefer the sound of the ocean over the crowded city.

Everyone and everything look so peaceful, as if the day before the island wasn’t about to be attacked by pirates, once again. It was a small attempt, the ships where already wrecked when he boarded them, as if they were running away from another fight. And that, of course, didn’t stop him from confusing them so they could turn around and go far away from their loved island without powers.

Once he thought the only solution was to eliminate all those people trying to reach the islands shores, they who would bring chaos and pain with their supernatural powers, those that all in his island lack, except for him. However, he convinced himself, and the leaders, that killing all of them would do nothing but bring attention as ships were to be disappearing from that area.

The course of action, then, was simple: when a ship was sighted, he was sent to a reckon trip. It was the protector choice to say if they needed to call the ship and made them turn around or to attacked them. To let them live or die. He was a protector and a judge, apparently.

Because he needed his heart to not become frozen, he took long walks alone in the night. Always covering his identity with a knitted cap, a sweatshirt and some useless glasses, because who in the island didn’t know Teshal, the new protector of the island? Without those calming walks, sometimes talking with strangers, sometimes going to the beach, sometimes at the parks or in the middle of the sleepless cities; his smile wouldn’t be possible, his reassuring words and demeanor wouldn’t let people walk so peacefully at night.

Lo siento

La noche está más cercana a terminar, pronto será momento de que te estires, bajes y comiences la rutina diaria. Sin embargo, ese día no despertaste por el cielo aclarándose, las actividades de otros iniciando o porque no quisieras dormir más. Lo que te despertó fue lo que habías estado escuchando las noches anteriores. Posiblemente dos semanas iban desde que el nerviosismo estaba entre el grupo, solo bastaba una sombra para que todos salieran corriendo para huir de las fauces de los demonios que los cazaban.

Con todos tus sentidos muy atentos, escuchaste los jadeos de los demonios y notaste sus sombras acercarse a tu refugio, el mismo que compartiste alguna vez con tu pareja y tu hermano y rival, mismo que esa noche ocupaban otros veintisiete. Todos despiertos por lo que a ti te quitó el sueño.

A pesar de que una reja los separaba de los demonios de cuyas fauces se derramaba la saliva cliente y cuyos ojos enloquecidos veían a cada uno de ustedes mientras con la nariz parecían provocar que más saliva se produjera; todos se alejaron de donde ellos veían, mordían y gruñían.

No era la primera vez que se acercaban tanto, cada que afuera fallaba su caza y que dejaban la primera puerta de defensa abierta, los demonios se paseaban cerca, demostrando como se saboreaban su sangre y entrañas, aunque no lograban alcanzarlos. Terminaban yéndose decepcionados y desesperados, maldiciendo con la amenaza de que no estarían a salvo por siempre.

Como esta noche.

En la desesperación, hambre y perversión de los demonios, que no habían logrado cazar nada por fuera, encontraron una zona débil de la reja que los resguardaba. Uno por uno los viste entrar. Uno por uno comenzó a encajar sus colmillo y garras en la piel de los jóvenes que no lograron correr a tiempo.

El caos se levantó alrededor, los gritos te aturdían, el correr desesperado de esas jóvenes almas que pedían ayuda, se atropellaban entre sí en medio del pánico, terminaban estrellándose en las rejas, las paredes, los obstáculos. Aleteaban sin cesar, corrían como podían en un espacio tan chico del que sabías no podían huir.

La sangre fluyó al desgarrar la piel, los huesos se quebraron dentro de las poderosas mandíbulas de los demonios, pelos y restos volaron con el aleteo de los que quedaban.

Decidiste que no podías quedarte más, también te iban a atrapar. Aun viendo como aquellos con los que peleaste, dormiste, escuchaste por tantos meses, se quedaban sin aliento o eran devorados por completo por los demonios; saltaste e intentaste huir.

Uno de ellos te notó, no había dejado de vigilarte; cuando corriste, él corrió detrás de ti. Tan rápido como tus piernas te lo permitían, huiste del demonio, gritaste e intentaste defenderte cuando más cerca lo tuviste, sintiendo su aliento mezclado con saliva y sangre sobre tu nuca. Hasta que te alcanzó.

Sus zancadas eran mucho mayores que las tuyas, cuatro patas corren más rápido que dos. Sus colmillos se clavaron en tu lomo, rasgando la piel de manera dolorosa. Cuando su pesada garra quedó sobre donde había mordido la primera vez, usó sus fauces para comenzar a arrancarte lo que cubría tu cuello.

Te quedas inmóvil unos segundos llenos de dolor hasta que sientes el peso sobre tu espalda aligerarse un poco, por lo que te mueves hasta que escapas. Vuelves a correr, no sabes en qué parte estás o a dónde ir, sólo corres hasta que te cae encima de nuevo.

Más dolor, el miedo te hace sentir que tu corazón podría explotar en cualquier momento junto a tus pulmones. Tu vista se nubla, tus oídos zumban, los gritos de los demás casi no los escuchas ya. Estabas por darte por vencido cuando el demonio te libera unos segundos para dar el tiro de gracia, sin embargo, también es tu oportunidad.

Nuevamente corres, más rápido que nunca, la adrenalina te evita darte cuenta del dolor, aunque sientes el viento frío sobre tu cuello desnudo y tu espalda. Corres hacia la puerta abierta, de ahí vienen ellos, pero también aparecen por ahí los que por todo ese tiempo te han cuidado y alimentado. No obstante, en medio de la oscuridad, todo está solo.

No están los que te podrían haber protegido, no están los que te habrían curado. Por eso no te detienes, corres, aunque ya no escuchas los jadeos del demonio.

Corres y sigues corriendo, el entorno ya no lo reconoces, lo cual poco te importa si significa dejar atrás a los demonios que ya debieron haber devorado a todos pues ya no hay más gritos. Encuentras un espacio entre una enredadera, entras y te encoges rogando porque no sigan tu rastro.

Te duele la piel, te duele por dentro. El miedo no se va, los gruñidos de los demonios, su olor, su aspecto están grabados en ti. No puedes cerrar los ojos sin verlos, sin escucharlos a ellos y a las otras pobres almas que no pudieron huir como tú, cuyos gritos de ayuda no fueron escuchados por nadie.

A medida que la adrenalina abandona tu cuerpo, que el cansancio cobra su cuota por la velocidad que alcanzaste, cuando el estrés de tu mente va cediendo, aunque no se acaba; te dejas ir. Ya no quieres sentir más dolor, ya no quieres tener más miedo, que cada pequeño sonido que escuchas te ponga alerta; ya no quieres tener frío, ya no quieres estar cansado. Solo esperas que pronto te encuentren, te alivien el dolor y te hagan sentir seguro. Solo quieres que todo haya sido un mal sueño.

Esperas mientras la llama de tu vida se va agotando, en soledad y oscuridad, con dolor y tristeza. Nadie te salvó.

My love

Hi, my love, and I'm sorry I'm here again.

I was missing how those words tasted

And feeling unprepared to let someone else in

Because today I dreamed

Some long waited words were said

After 10 years I thought forgotten.

Lately I've been remembering

Your lips, your eyes, your warmth

And our untitled and short love

Thinking about all the happiness I found

You gave me and more

As if I was willing to let it go.

Hey, I'm sorry for all this

Because I can't get over it

Or pretend it didn't mean the light for me

I'm sorry because every time you came to me

All I want to say is Thank You

And I wanna hope you felt like this

Before the bond was cut-off.

I wonder when I'll feel like this again

If I'll ever find someone to call

My love.

Nahual

Tu alrededor está cubierto de hojas secas, todas teñidas de los colores característicos del otoño. El viento las remueve y tira nuevas para completar el tapete que decora y oculta la tierra de abajo; debería sentirse frío, lo normal en esa época, sin embargo no te hace temblar. Seguramente la ropa que llevas es suficiente.

Deseas enterrar tus pies desnudos en la humedad bajo las hojas o pisarlas para escuchar ese crujido tan reconocido y relajante que tienes bien grabado en la memoria. Levantabas tu pie para sentirlo, cuando detrás de ti escuchaste los pesados y apresurados pasos de una persona; volteaste a ver lo que sucedía, te sorprendes de ver que el hombre está más lejos de lo que escuchaste, mas no te detienes a pensar en ello pues lo ves ir directo hacia ti.

Sientes como cada célula de tu cuerpo reacciona al peligro inminente aun cuando no eres capaz de entender por qué sería así cuando lo único que observas es a un hombre, llevando una escoba en la mano como arma, correr hacia donde estás. Sabes que eres su objetivo, que el palo de ese objeto acabará golpeando tu espalda o cabeza, no importa que no entiendas el motivo, si lo ofendiste o si solo se trata de un hombre loco.

Antes de que esté a cinco metros de ti, los músculos de tu cuerpo se contrajeron y flexionaron, listos para empezar la carrera que te alejará de él. ¿Por qué no te has detenido a hablar con él? ¿Por qué no le gritas que se detenga? ¿Por qué sientes que si lo enfrentas, él será quien terminará herido?

Corres tan rápido como puedes, de tu boca no sale nada más que tu aliento, no tienes miedo ni enojo, simplemente sabes que lo mejor que puedes hacer es alejarte, salir de ese lugar de inmediato e ir a tu casa.

Pasas entres árboles y pastos tan altos que te llegan a los muslos, en medio de la noche puedes ver bien hacia dónde correr para no golpearte ni caer en los hoyos del parque en el que te encuentras. Recuerdas bien que siempre has disfrutado de pasear en ese lugar porque es casi tan parecido a un bosque de verdad, sabes que esa tarde llegaste ahí por la misma razón que lo hiciste en el pasado: buscando un poco de tranquilidad. No obstante, no entiendes cómo es que aún te encuentras dentro de este sitio, sabiendo que antes del atardecer ya se encuentra cerrado.

No crees posible que ese hombre piense que estás ahí para robar, aunque tampoco estás seguro de que no lo estabas. Recuerdas quién es tu familia, el sitio donde vives, sabes quién eres a pesar de que no recuerdas cómo eres, el físico lo sabes, mas no tu forma normal de comportarte. Tal vez es normal que la gente te persiga de esa manera porque los ofendes o porque, en el peor de los casos, dañaste a alguien o algo importante para ellos. Tal vez acabaste ahí porque alguien te engañó y te abandonó en ese lugar, tal vez te perdiste porque eres malo orientándote o te distrajiste. ¿Eras una persona buena? ¿Alguien malo?

Comienzas a preguntarte si cuando regreses a tu casa ¿las personas con las que vives o conoces notarán que te comportas diferente? ¿Serás la misma persona con la que ellos están familiarizados o no te podrán reconocer?

Es hasta ese momento en que te asustas. Te das cuenta de que si no le hablas al hombre es porque no tienes voz, nada sale de tu boca más que sonidos sofocados y algo similar a gruñidos de desesperación. Y, además, no sabes si la gente que conoces querrá ayudarte o perjudicarte.

No es como si, de todas formas, tuvieras muchas opciones más que ir a los sitios que conoces, no puedes huir de ese hombre toda la noche, pronto sentirás el cansancio que podría impedirte regresar a tu casa, pronto podría atraparte. Es por eso que cambias de ruta, recuerdas dónde se encuentra la salida, debes alejarte de ese lugar y buscar respuestas. El único inconveniente es que tu escape se encuentra detrás del que te persigue, no más de diez metros lejos de ti y ya no quieres volver a internarte.

Decides encararlo, aprovechando que sigue muchos pasos detrás de ti, te detienes a recuperar un poco de aliento, lo observas directamente a los ojos. Notas que va bajando la velocidad, preparado para seguir la dirección que vayas a tomar, aunque tú hayas decidido que irás de frente.

Ya no corres, caminas hacia él, tratas de mostrarte más tranquilo, casi quieres decirle que no quieres más problemas y que estás dispuesto a irte sin más. Nada más has dado tres pasos cuando lo ves detenerse en seco, todo el color de su piel desaparece como si no pudiera creer lo que ve. Por unos segundos piensas en darte la vuelta y ver si hay algo atrás de ti, sin embargo estás seguro de que te está viendo a ti.

Das un par de pasos más cuando él se gira y se aleja de ti, no corre aunque sí avanza con rapidez.

—¿Qué fue…?

Las primeras palabras dejan tu boca, lo que te sorprende. De pronto el pasto no está tan alto, la silueta del hombre se ha perdido entre las sombras que parecen mucho más densas que antes, ya no llegan los mismos olores y sonidos que antes.

Te diriges a la salida antes de que regrese con antorchas o pistolas, sabes que es posible. Una vez fuera, tanto del parque como de la vista de las personas que oyes conversar, escuchas algo que te hace detener tu huida del sitio.

—… lo estoy diciendo, tú lo viste —escuchas a un hombre decir, posiblemente el que te seguía, así que quieres saber qué lo asustó—. Era un perro negro, se detuvo y… y… se levantó, era una persona, ya no un perro…

Death

From time to time there was some souls who caught Death’s eyes, even after the changes in their bodies, Death was still able to recognize them. That was one of the things it liked to do when if had some free time.

This time was looking at a young boy, possibly no more than twenty-two. He was feeding some stray cats not so far from his house, the cats were happily walking around him, asking to be pet and some leaving their scents on him. Some where chasing out each other, but whenever he scolded them, they’d stop.

The next time Death went to look for him, he was walking alone in a big park inside his city. Following him, without him to notice, was Death and a little group of street cats. When the animals looked at Death, they lowered their ears with their fur bristled, even after it assure them it wasn’t here to take his soul, they were not completely relaxed. Who would?

Even so, it walked with them, standing some meters away from where the boy was serving food to them. He was happy, although he was kind of complaining of how from being three cats, now there were almost ten. He didn’t know why, but Death knew.

The first time Death noticed this soul, he was nothing more than a pigeon. Its colors too common, its height and form too normal, even its toes were incomplete and some even deformed. Nothing out of ordinary except that it was sleeping alongside two street cats.

One cat black and the other gray and white, with their backs touching the other one while the pigeon rested over the gray one. Sleeping in a dirty and dark alley in which they were hiding, no one disturbed them, no one payed any attention to them but Death, because it wasn’t common to see that kind of interaction between species.

After Death went back, it looked around to the past lives of the pigeon’s soul, finding it had a high ratio to being reborn as a cat. It was one of those few souls that carried a predilection to be born in one species, no matter how many times if was reborn. Every time it came back as a cat, it would became a leader. If it was a female, she would rise a lot of abandoned kittens, and sometimes led them to good humans. If it was a male, it would be the fiercer and the one that protected the weakest cats, sometimes even helping them to run away from their homes.

But even if that soul didn’t reborn as a cat, if it could move around and be stronger than most cats, it’ll be a protector to them. When it couldn’t do much, like when a pigeon or any other little mammal, the cats would surround it to guard it. Likewise, if the soul reborn as an insignificant or unmovable being, it would die in a few days (sometimes hours).

Death knew it, it was a capricious soul, dramatic some even could say. If it couldn’t be with cats or if it was too desperate to be a cat anew, it would take its own life, direct or indirectly. Only because it wasn’t a tired soul, Death let it be, knowing how good it was for the cats and that it could never do any harm to no one being as it was.

“Kind, fierce and lovely soul, I can see it in your eyes” Death whispered without taking its eyes out of the boy smiling to the cats. “You no longer want to be in this life, you want to be a cat again, but let me tell you, I’ll force you to be here a few years more, until you can fulfill your dream.”

When Death turned around, it came to face a young tree. It was a willow, no more than ten years old, its trunk still too thin so it was growing a bit crooked. It might look as the leaves were the reason, but Death knew.

Caressing its leaves, “It’s been just ten years and you’re already tired? You shouldn’t even have conscience, N.” After that Death went back to its job.