Thursday, February 25, 2016


Classified Area. Codename: Green Hell

The factory bustled with activity, it had been abandoned for years until a group belonging to a rebel faction found it with the old machinery still in workable condition, slowly it became an outpost and by the end of that same year it was one of their main operation centers, people working left and right to manufacture and load supplies, weapons and ammunitions into small vehicles parked on the old docking bays, the officers coordinating troops from the old offices on the second floor and a small team dedicated to communications and code breaking.

A radio signal from a nearby dropship had been intercepted, the codebreaker team had to rapidly work their way through encryption and get as much information before being cut off or found out.

"TY-1 here, unit 0019 has been deployed" Said a soft voice, the sound of turbines roaring could be heard on the background, quickly there was a reply.

"Understood TY-1, report back to base, operation commencing for unit 0019" Said a second voice, the voice faint and full of static.

"Roger, I am coming under heavy fire. Permission to engage?" Asked the pilot

"TY-1 you are authorized for to fire on will, give them one thousand brands of hell" Said the second voice

"Roger, TY-1 out" The pilot and the other operator went off the line.

"Sir!" The man who had intercepted the conversation rapidly finished writing it down on a piece of paper and handed it to a Lieutenant who had just approached him. The Lieutenant wore, as the rest of the troops, civilian clothing adapted for their situation, there was no rank visible anywhere except for a white star on the cap the man wore, the symbol of their rebellion.

"Where are they now?" Asked the Lieutenant as he speed through the conversation

"They just finished their communication sir. No locations were given, the only clear statement was the deployment of a unit" Replied the man who had intercepted the conversation

"Where?" Asked the Lieutenant

"I don't know sir, no information about it was given either" Replied the man and got slapped by the Lieutenant

"Useless!" Said the Lieutenant and returned to a table in the middle of the room where other officers sat, most of them were only losing their time there having conversations, joking or gossiping, smoking or having something to eat, their dedication was to themselves and no one else. Outside, just a mere feet away, was a different story. The people working outside went through excruciating shifts of sixteen to twenty hours a day non-stop, sleeping was a luxury they could not afford and if working a twenty four hour shift was possible they would be doing it, supplies were always on short stock, scavengers had to go further and further away into the nearby towns and cities for material, going on foot had gone from an hour or two to entire days, food was another problem, with not enough around of them to go they had to relay on crops which the surrounding area could not properly sustain due to the drought the region was currently going through, mining, while possible, was out of the question as it was too dangerous to proceed with the original deep mining operation that was going there before the civil war and without enough personnel, fuel and people with the knowledge to operate the machinery it would be pointless to restart it, the idea of a smaller mining operation was tentatively put into operation but without proper tools it became obvious it would take too long to get enough material. Additionally the nearby front was draining them of everything on a daily basis, it was reaching the point where command had to put into consideration if it was viable to keep their front here or if they had to accept being pushed back and take the machinery with them.

While all of this happened the nearby front had stalled at a major city some twenty miles away, neither forces was making any progress and while limited in resources the rebels made due with that they had, tenacity wasn’t something they were missing and neither was ingenuity. Their well applied guerrilla tactics served their purpose in this environment, retreating was very common for them but only after they had managed to disable some important objective or harassed the enemy long enough for them to reposition or try and chase them.

One of those groups was returning back to their current safehouse, a blown out three story building from which they used the basement, and were taking quick considerations as to what was the best route for said purpose.

"Through the back alley, lets go" Said the Sergeant as their team had stopped at an intersection.

"Sir, we could easily be ambushed through the back alley" Said a Corporal who was catching his breath

"We are not going back through the same street, they probably have it figured out by now which means an artillery run that will easily tear us apart" Replied the Sergeant as he eyed the other streets and possible routes.

"Sir, with all due respect, if we go through that back alley we may not make it out alive, we have better options going through an open street where we can rapidly find cover than a small alley" Said the Corporal

"Corporal we have twenty seven men left and from those seven are injured, we need to get out of here and we need to do it now" Replied the Sergeant who was becoming noticeable angry.

"Sergeant come on, be reasonable, we need to find another way, what about the top floors?" Asked the Corporal

"We could try and pull something on the top floors but not with the injured men and I am not leaving anyone behind" Replied the Sergeant

"What about a distraction?" Asked the Corporal

"I doubt we can make a distraction that bit for the artillery spotters, I am not willing to risk it anyway since they could just barrage the entire area. At this point we are lucky to not have been blasted away" Said the Sergeant

"Well no shit, sir..." Said the Corporal who took a big swing from his canteen until there was no more, he froze right there as he felt something cold on the back of his head "Sergeant?"

"Yeah?" Asked the Sergeant who was busy checking the map, he did not turn to watch the Corporal.

"What the hell do I have on the back of my head?" Asked the Corporal who began to raise his hands and in turn was given the full attention of the Sergeant.

"Holy shit--" The Sergeant had tried to act quick, his right hand had reached for his main weapon and now his right hand was stock to grip of the weapon by a large dark protruding from the top of his hand, the Sergeant immediately panicked trying to get the dart out, the Corporal closed his eyes and began to breath rapidly while whispering -This isn’t happening-

"Please" Said a soft voice coming from behind the Corporal. "Avoid making this any more complicated"

"Sir, stop freaking out and give me a hand!" Demanded the Corporal as he began to grit his teeth

"When I get this fucking thing out of my hand I will stop freaking out!" Yelled the Sergeant as he continued to pry the dart out.

"Try not to make a mess Sergeant, you will die relatively quick if you miss" Said the voice. "And you too Corporal"

"Wait, why--" The Corporal peered to the left and with horror saw the rest of his unit on the ground, necks broken, heads in odd positions, arms and legs as if they were rag dolls, blood still spilling out of some of the bodies, dead eyes everywhere "Oh shit"

"Those who live by the sword, will die by the sword, so sad for the young ones though, they could have served another purpose" Said the voice coming from behind the Corporal

"You monster" Said the Sergeant as he began to loosen up the dart, as soon as he managed to remove it he could feel his hand warm, blood slowly pouring out from the wound which the Sergeant immediately clogged with some pieces of cloth.. "Taking away their right to live a free life"

"I am not the monster Sergeant, I am a solution to a problem that has been going on for too long. You and all your people, on the other hand, are the ones that wish to continue fighting, pointless" Said the voice.

"You won't win, whoever you are, we will get our freedom" Said the Corporal

"Freedom to oppress others is just the continuation of a vicious cycle, you do not see it right now but you are the seed for another civil war waiting to take place in a few decades, just like those who you are fighting right now, so the question is, how long before you become that which you so ardently fight?" Said the voice

"You can--" The Sergeant tried to raise his weapon but it was useless, his right arm slowly went numb and rapidly his shoulder and neck followed, the Sergeant dropped to his knees trying to say something but he could only mumble incoherently until he dropped down with his tongue out, swollen, and eyes rolling up as his body slowly became a swollen purple mass.

"Ah shit" The Corporal, traumatized by the sight, could only thing of how he would die. “If you are going to kill me please do it fast”

"Answer me a three questions and I will grant you that" Asked the voice

"OK, what’s the question?" Asked the Corporal

"First, where is your Headquarter?" Asked the voice, the Corporal hesitated for a second, sweat running down his forehead as he stared at the blob that now was his former commanding officer.

"An abandoned factory twenty miles south of this city, the map on the Sergeant will reveal the location" Replied the Corporal

"How many?" Asked the voice

"A hundred or two at the most right, the operation used to be bigger. You may find some vehicles too with weapons and ammunition caches" Replied the Corporal.

"Final question, how many people do you have in the streets right now?" Asked the voice

"I honestly would not know that, we don’t keep communication with each other but taking a shot at the dark I would say at least one thousand troops" Replied the Corporal

"Good" Said the voice and then there was silence.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

The Doctor

Space Station Antioch, Orbiting Uninhibited planet

"We have made rather interesting discoveries in our latest batch" Said a man wearing a transparent lab coat with a black uniform underneath. He walked a group of what looked like first year students to a room he called, "The Incubator, here we breed and raise our subjects"

"How long does it take to breed and raise a test subject?" Asked one of the younger students.

"We take around a month at most, two is the farthest acceptable time period for the subject to achieve self-awareness. Once they begin to do most basic interactions we commence the induction process" The man approached the door and it opened revealing a room filled with at least five hundred small metallic tubes, ordered in several lines, connected to their network sentient computer that analyzed every single input from the test subjects. "Right now we are running only half of our tubes due to a lack of subjects but we await to have the rest by the end of our planetary cycle"

"Professor" Another young man, blond haired, rose a hand which was immediately lowered as the man placed his on the man. "I mean, Doctor Helger"

"Never forget. I am a Doctor not a Professor, I don't follow nor would I ever follow any of the academic methods or procedures, to follow through with the established paradigm is to eventually die a fool, we must push boundaries, never mind the academy and the government funding this project, ignore their lackeys, the hunt-hounds and the political trash that dare step into our station, they are only a mean to reach the true objective” The young man remained silent for a second wondering if he should say anything at all. "Their little minds lack the power to understand what the true power of becoming a God means, for them it is only an economical gain or a tactical superiority, it sickens me” The Doctor clenched his fists as he looked to the ceiling and began breathing in a controlled pattern. “I am sorry about that, could you repeat the question again?” Seeing no answer from the student the Doctor berated him immediately “Come on I don't bite, I may be angry most of the time but ignore that, it is part of being me. What was it that you wanted to know?"

"Well, I wanted to know about the current batch of subjects, has at anytime any of the subjects become fully aware of what is going around him?"

"As in?"

"Have they awakened?"

"A very Interesting question you just brought up. To this point we haven't had a subject that has achieved such thing but we are also speaking about subjects that have never been--" The station suddenly quaked as if it had been hit by something. "Hercules, report"

"Hercules on-line. The source of the impact is located in the thruster A, it is unknown at this point what hit us, nothing was reported on sub-space scanners" Reported an almost Human voice but still revealed the taint of a mechanical being. "At this point no security or emergency deployment is necessary as per current damage assessment, the Chief of Security and the Chief of Engineering have both been informed of this incident to investigate further"

"Good Hercules. Thanks for the report, keep me informed of the development"

"Hercules off-line"

"That is our advanced defense system, also a prototype from the early days of the station, he has been assigned to protect us ever since we released it to the station and now has reached a point where it also runs the experiments of this station, at this rate it will not be necessary to have human interaction with Hercules when our first batch is released into a protected environment"

"Hercules on-line. Doctor Helger I will advice you to--" The signal crackled and went out for a second. "Please proceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..." Slowly the voice began to get deeper and to fade away to the point where it died.

"Hercules, Hercules?" The Doctor walked past by the students and when trying to enter the room where the super computer was located the door wouldn't open. "Damn. Well I think our tour for today just ended and I just hope security has--"

Lights went off on the station together with the life support system, everything slowly stopped around them and with it panic slowly grew with it, panic turned into horror when the emergency systems did not go off-line and the group found itself floating in a cold hallway, struggling to breath. From both ends of the hallways horrible squeals could be heard, metal being ripped apart and something breaking down, machines and glass. to ensue when the backup system was not coming on-line and when horrible squeals could be heard from both ends of the hallway.

"Everyone remain calm" The Doctor, holding from a side bar next a window looking at the planet, awaited for security or engineering to do something about the situation, it worried him that he had seen no answer yet and was fearful that they would not survive whatever was coming at them, specially with the squealing becoming louder and no gunshots around them. "Damn..."

Suddenly one of the doors on the hallway opened and a massive figure appeared on the frame, it was someone from security as the Doctor recognized the mechanical sounds of a power armor, when it walked into their sight it became apparent that the situation was worse than he had thought, the armor had been terribly damaged with cables coming out of the left side of the torax, the left shoulder and upper arm missing, the top part of the helmet ripped apart by something that looked like a claw and a clank and buzz coming from both legs. The eyes on the armor pulsed with a bloody red and analyzed the surrounding area until they found the Doctor.

"Doctor Helger" The voice, a mechanical dead voice, came from the armor, the Doctor was not sure who the person was, he had doubts he was part of the security team to begin with. "You are coming with me"

"Who are you?” Asked the Doctor with a low tone of voice

Salvation” The mechanical voice echoed as the squealing and destruction approached them ever faster. “There is little time left for you to come with me”

What if I don't!" The man pointed his rifle at the group of students. "No, wait, stop it, what do you think you are doing?"

"Leaving a bait for those things, they are not a priority or of anyones interest” Red and yellow lights lit up on the hallway and slowly life support systems picked back up, the Doctor took a deep breath and looked again at the power armor. “Doctor, you have little time to choose and if I can't take you willingly I will do it by force”

Fine, fine, don't hurt them” Light violently returned to the hallway and with it came a moment of blindness.

We must prepare”

"Prepare for what?" The readjustment to light took longer than what the Doctor had expected, as he slowly picked up his vision he saw in horror at the body armor, the damages he had seen with the poor lightning was nothing compared to the reality of the power armor, scrap metal was the correct word for it, furthermore no one was inside the suit, the suspicions of the Doctor were slowly being confirmed, the impact had probably been a drop pod full of automated suits that were looking for him. From the open door came more of the suits and service robots that had probably been reprogrammed as they now held weaponry. The body armor extended the left arm toward the open door. "Please, proceed"

Don't do anything stupid” The Doctor said while facing the machine and walking to the door, the message had been intended for the students but they did not listen, instead the students tried to push through and run, the Doctor was in shock as the machines rapidly worked their way through the feeble attempts of the students to go through them and soon there were only pieces of them laying around, flesh and bone ripped apart, sinew and organs littering the ground, the machines had no heart and seek only the best way to resolve an issue and by their calculations this would avoid them any additional quarrel with whatever was coming to them for long enough for them to get out.

"You retarded mongoloids, this will not go unpunished, Earth will respond to this violation--" The powered armor pushed the Doctor through the open door and quickly through the hallway until they reached a door with a the emblem of a cog and a triskelion. "The Empire of the Machines, really?"

"Doctor Helger you are of interest to the Empire of the Machine, this is why we have come this far to include you in our current set of plans" The mechanical voice rang through the hallway and as soon as he had finished the door with the emblem opened, inside a cryogenic tube open and waiting.

"Are you aware of the repercussions this will have, you are mad, they will hunt you to the end of the universe if necessary!" The powered armor pulled the Doctor into the room and threw him into the cryogenic tube. “Fools!”

"Humanity could not even begin to understand the power we hold. The Empire of the Machines cannot be stopped by your armed forces or space fleet, we have begun to transcend such idiocies" Robots ran through the hallway at full speed into the room, some stood back firing at an unknown danger rushing towards them. “Deploy”

The machines moved inside the ship and the door closed and pressurized, there was an explosion and the room had been expelled from the station, it continued to be pushed out of reach of the station until it gravitated towards something not visible through normal sight. The Machines had placed the Doctor in cryogenic stasis at that point and connected themselves to the internal battery of the room to wait for their time to wake up.

It would be centuries before they reached their destination.

Monday, February 22, 2016

Brothers in Arms

We are brothers in arms
We leave no one behind
We fight for one cause
But a question remains
Will we die all together
Or will we wait for our time? 

I wish I knew you better
So close and so distant
Afraid to make the simplest question
The one that will tear me apart
I can't take the pressure no more
If I asked you, would you kill me now?

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Call of Cthulhu: Confrontacion final del arco de California

-¡Oh Dios!- Aiden resbalo y cayo sobre un cuadro pintado con una clase de pintura brillante que trataba de borrar, lo había logrado con éxito hasta que resbalo sin querer y toco el cuadro el cual comenzó a brillar con mayor intensidad al igual que todos los cuadros alrededor de este. -¡Oh Dios, esto no es bueno!-

-Aiden, fuera de ahí. ¡Ya!- Grito Howlett mientras acomodaba el rifle Springfield en su hombro derecho y tomaba su cuarenta y cinco en mano, Ishmael siguiéndolo con su Thompson, James con su treinta y ocho. Aiden se movió rápidamente de aquel lugar y preparo su cuarenta y cinco. El piso comenzó a temblar ligeramente -¿Ahora que?-

-Ahora vemos el mundo- Respondió Ishmael horrorizado

-¿Que?- Pregunto Howlett e Ishmael apunto rápidamente a la colosal estatus de Atlas sosteniendo al mundo enfrente de ellos, esta comenzó a moverse lentamente fuera de su posición para ponerse de pie y una vez hecho esto levanto el globo terráqueo de mármol sobre su cabeza y comenzó a mocionar para lanzarlo al grupo. -¡Muévanse!-

El grito de Howlett no fue necesario, el grupo ya evadía rápidamente la gigantesca esfera que había destrozado el marco y parte de la pared sur, el colapso fue instantáneo pero parte de la pared continuaba cayendo lentamente conforme la estructura temblaba por las vibraciones generadas en el jardín, del cual quedo poco después de que la esfera transitara hasta el final de este.

-Tsk, mala suerte. Me gustaban esos cerezos- Ishmael comento mientras observaba como la enorme esfera giraba por el jardín hasta la entrada principal de la mansión a unos doscientos metros. -Ahora mueres-

Ishmael levanto su Thompson y soltó una enorme ráfaga de plomo sobre la escultura, las balas que impactaron crearon algunos agujeros y nubes de polvo pero no parecieron tener ningún otro efecto sobre la escultura.

-¡Aiden, Ishmael, ideas!- Howlett disparo al coloso y atravesó una sección del hombro derecho, siguió soltando tiros volando otros fragmentos como si esta fuera un pedazo de papel pero no tuvo tampoco el efecto deseado que era detenerla.. -¡Vamos, algo!-

-¡Si, vamos!- James dio dos tiros pero no le hizo absolutamente nada, James comenzó a caminar hacia el lado derecho, hacia el juego de escaleras de ese lado que daba hacia arriba, y a su vez examino sus alrededores rápidamente buscando salidas adicionales en caso de una emergencia mayor.

-¿Ishmael, que no es un golem esto, no conoces algo de el?- Pregunto Aiden mientras corría hacia las escaleras del lado izquierdo, soltando un tiro cada diez o quince pasos sin tomar mucha puntería, la estatua confundida observaba hacia ambos lados rápidamente.

-No es el momento apropiado para esto pero no, no es exactamente esto o de lo contrario ya nos hubiera freído con sus hechizos- Ishmael se movió hacia atrás, soltando ráfagas cortas sobre la estatua hasta que decidió apuntar hacia una de las rodillas y soltar lo que fuera que quedara de las municiones en el tambor de cincuenta balas.

El titan perdió balance rápidamente y después de resquebrajarse la piedra este comenzó a hacer su caída hacia el frente, hacia Ismael. Se quedo frío ahí donde estaba y el titan al caer se hacia pedazos, parte del tórax, cuello y cabeza cayeron sobre Ismael sin que este pudiera escapar y quedo prensado contra el suelo.

-¡Ishmael!- Howlett se acerco rápidamente pero una mano que salio debajo de los restos superiores de la estatua le indico la puerta del segundo piso.

-¡Ve por Hancock o esto sera en vano, corre, ve!- Ishmael siguió apuntando mientras que Howlett salia disparado hacia el segundo piso, Aiden y James corrieron hacia Ishmael para ayudarlo lo mas rápido posible, y una vez en el segundo piso Howlett se encontró con una puerta, como muchas que había visto en los últimos días, que tenían figuras talladas que lentamente comenzaba a comprender y extrañas letras y símbolos que le ponían nervioso pero sabia que no era tiempo de dudar.

Abrió la puerta derecha de un golpe y soltó un tiro al interior, el sonido de la bala se hizo ensordecedor y no alcanzo a escuchar como desde el fondo se escuchaba una terrible risa...

La bala impacto una esfera que se encontraba flotando en medio del cuarto, rodeada por ocho hombres que hablaban o cantaban en un idioma extraño y profano a los oídos y bocas incluso de los hombres mas educados del planeta. Al momento de impactar la bala en la esfera esta comenzó a ganar y perder forma rápidamente, dejo de ser la perfecta esfera y ahora se transformaba en algo deforme y horrible, algunas extensiones como tentaculos que provenían de esta y que arrebataban a los hombres encapuchados alrededor de esta, pronto no quedaba nadie mas que Howlett y la esfera que continuaba saliéndose de sus proporciones originales y ganando tamaño rápidamente mas allá de las dimensiones del cuarto.

-Imbécil- La voz vino del fondo de la habitación, una figura cubierta totalmente de morado se aproximo a la esfera y por un segundo miro a Howlett -Que esto sea una lección, Howlett. No deben inmiscuirse en cosas que no les importan-

Howlett quedo confundido, no podía ver quien le había hablado y la voz no le resultaba familiar, tenia la necesidad de tomar acción y dispararle a la figura pero al ver que esta se perdió en la esfera no pudo mas que mirar con horror como la esfera se distorsionaba rápidamente hasta que esta termino por colapsarse sobre si misma y desapareció, al irse esta Howlett noto los agujeros en varias partes del techo y piso, inclusive las paredes no habían salido ilesas, lo cual no dejaba de sorprenderle.

Howlett se apresuro al otro lado del cuarto y encontró un escritorio, una silla y un cuerpo tirado frente a la ventana de la cual faltaban pedazos, producto de la bala de la Sprinfield que Howlett había disparado contra quien pensaba que era Hancock antes de que entraran a la mansión. Le sorprendió que fuera Hancock realmente y que le hubiera dado el tiro perfectamente en el centro de la frente, lo otro que le sorprendió era lo senil y débil que era Hancock, Howlett lo había imaginado mucho mas imponente por aquella voz profunda y de cierta manera quedo decepcionado y avergonzado de dispararle, de igual manera ya lo había hecho y aquel hombre descansaba en un pequeño charco de su sangre.

Howlett suspiro y salio al balcón del segundo piso donde dio anuncio a sus compañeros de lo sucedido.

-Esta todo hecho, creo que ya terminamos- Dijo Howlett mientras observaba como Aiden y James terminaban de sacar a Ishmael de los escombros.

-Oh Dios por fin- Dijo Aiden ya teniendo a Ishmael fuera de los escombros y entre el y James le ayudaron a caminar hacia el segundo piso.

-Howlett, busca algo, una maleta, un paquete, una carta, lo que sea, Hancock debió dejar algo a nuestro nombre o en alguna parte de esta casa-

Howlett regreso a lo que asumía fue alguna vez la oficina de Hancock y encontró debajo del escritorio un maletín de piel cerrado con llave, tenia en mente dispararle al seguro del maletín pero fue suficientemente considerado de terminar de examinar el cuarto y encontrar la llave en uno de los bolsillos del saco de Hancock y, por cordialidad y camaradería, espero a que todos llegaran al cuarto.

-¿Howlett, que carajos paso aquí?- Pregunto Ishmael mientras lo ponían en una silla, este gruño cuando lo ayudaron a sentarse, y una vez que ya se encontraba en posición observo todos los daños que había sufrido el cuarto.

-Una esfera, se trago a varios hombres que estaban alrededor de ella y después uno mas llego, de purpura, me dijo que era una lección que no debía olvidar, entro a la esfera, fin de la discusión-

-¿Una esfera, que tipo de esfera?- Pregunto Ishmael mientras examinaba a detalle el techo y el piso.

-No lo se Ishmael, una esfera de luz que comenzó a salirse de tamaño y control es la mejor manera que puedo describir lo que vi-

-¿Por que se salio de control, le disparaste a uno de los cultistas?-

-¿Como sabes que son cultistas?- La pregunta de Howlett hizo que Ishmael suspirara y diera vuelta a sus ojos.

-Encuentras a varios hombres encapuchados hablando en una lengua extraña y uno de ellos logra poner la esfera bajo control, ¿la pregunta es algo estúpida, no?-

-No cuando no se nada de esto, nadie mas que tu sabe de estas cosas-

-Bueno, esta bien, de igual manera eso ya paso. ¿Te dijo su nombre el cultista que hablo contigo?- Ishmael parecía molesto al igual que Howlett pero ninguno de los dos quería continuar una lucha que podía durar horas, ya habían tenido bastantes de esas durante toda esta aventura.

-¿Para que?-

-Por que no sabemos quien es, Howlett, el tipo acaba de cerrar un portal que posiblemente iba a liberar alguna clase de monstruosidad sobre el mundo y dejas ir al tipo como si nada hubiera pasado-

-Ya no importa-

-Si importa por que Hancock esta muerto, no tenemos pistas que seguir ni sabemos si nos buscara de vuelta. Vamos, si tiene la capacidad de cerrar un portal tiene la misma para abrirlo-

-¿Creí que no te importaba?-

-Claro que me importa y a todos nos debe importar, carajo Howlett no planeo despertar en medio de la noche con un tipo extraño observándome o alguna criatura sacada del infierno mismo tratando de despedazarme, al menos quiero saber de donde viene y como viene pero mas importante por que viene, que le hice yo a el en especifico para que me venga a buscar, quiero tener una puta oportunidad de pelear de vuelta y tener la esperanza de que puedo sobrevivir otro día-

-Lo hecho hecho esta, no hay mas que hacer al respecto. Personalmente creo que estamos seguros, creo, después de todo esto- Howlett abrió por fin el maletín y examino el contenido. -Bueno, esto si es interesante-

-¿Que tenemos, Howlett?- Pregunto Aiden mientras atendía a Ishmael con algunas drogas que había logrado conseguir con una licencia médica falsa, James había corrido rápidamente mientras Ishmael y Howlett discutían acerca de lo sucedido y había traído el maletín de Aiden para que pudiera atender a Ishmael.

-Dinero, al menos un millón-

-¿Que?- Aiden casi pinchaba a Ishmael con una jeringa pero la conmoción lo forzó a empujar de lado como si fuera a acuchillar a alguien. -¿Un millón?-

-Cuidado con eso que tampoco quiero que me saquen un ojo- Respondió Ishmael mientras extendía su mano. -Que mas-

-Una nota- Howlett la levanto y comenzó a leer -A Howlett y Compañía punto y aparte Sabia que esto no debería ser ningún problema para ustedes, les agradezco por liberarme de mis captores y espero que el dinero que encuentran en este maletín les sea de utilidad punto y aparte Con eterna gratitud firma William Roger Hancock-

-Esto no esta bien, fue demasiado sencillo- Ishmael saco una cajetilla de cigarros de su gabardina y encendió el cigarro, Howlett saco un cigarro de uno de los bolsillos de su pantalón, lo encendió y examino la carta nuevamente, le dio vuelta y al ver que no había mas examino los cajones del escritorio.

-¡Aja!- Howlett levanto un sobre y lo agito. -Aquí tenemos una posible clave. Veamos-

Con cuidado Howlett abrió el sobre por la parte de abajo, lección que aprendieron después de que la primera carta que abrieron desde que empezó todo esto entro en combustión automática y su contenido se perdió para siempre. Listo ese proceso Howlett saco la carta y comenzó a leerla para si mismo.

-¿Y bien?-

-Es una carta de Hancock a alguien pero no dice nombres, locaciones, nada, aparte parece que el mismo se esta mandando la carta-

-¿Y que dice?-

-Visita próximamente, S.L.M.M. y O.H.A.D. Tener todos los preparativos listos, la temporada de lluvia empieza pronto y no me puedo atrasar. No olvidar postres, algo ligero pero que sea bueno para el alma. Tampoco las invitaciones, es un evento corto y no tendremos mucho tiempo para desperdiciar en mundanidades-

-¿Eso es todo?-

-Si- Howlett le entrego la carta a Ishmael y este la volvió a examinar a detalle, la miro de ambos lados y se encogió de hombros. -Solo el mismo Hancock podría saber que significa con exactitud todo esto, descansa en paz viejo atrevido-

-Así es-

-Recomiendo retirarnos, por mas que me gustaría buscar libros de interés creo que nuestro tiempo es contado y que después de nuestra pequeña intervención habrán de venir policías en un dos por tres- Aiden acomodo sus lentes y termino de guardar todo su equipo ya después de tratar a Ishmael a lo mejor de sus capacidades, le sorprendió que Ishmael a pesar de verse mas relajado no cayera bajo los efectos de las drogas que había suministrado pero sospechaba que esto era por que ya contaba con algunas adicciones..

-Tienes razón, vámonos de aquí. ¿Ishmael?- Pregunto Howlett a Ishmael quien ya se encontraba de pie y avanzando hacia la salida, el resto del equipo siguió el paso rápidamente.

-Yo me voy de vuelta a Nueva Jersey, tengo que reportarme con el viejo otra vez y no creo que este muy contento conmigo- Respondió Ishmael

-Bueno, espero que todo funcione para ti-

-Por mi no se preocupen, esperan la llamada de Nuddleman-

-¿Quien es Nuddleman?-

-Pronto lo sabrás, Howlett, y el sera tu mejor recurso aunque trátalo con mucho cuidado por que nunca sabes que idea loca te va a tirar, no lo cuestiones mucho ni tampoco lo juzgues, solo haz lo que te ordena y todo estará bien-

-No me voy a tirar de un puente si me lo ordena-

-El tirarte de un puente, después de todo lo que viste, seria una bendición. Tu solo recuerda esto y cuando tengas tiempo pregúntale a Nuddleman de Francia en 1924-

-¿Que tiene que ver eso?-

-Pregúntale y sabrás a lo que me refiero, pero no todavía, tiempo después, cuando tengas tiempo de conocerlo. Por ahora disfruta tu dinero lo mas que puedas-

-Lo haré, haremos mejor dicho ya que una parte es tuya-

-Nos estaremos viendo eventualmente Howlett-

-Honestamente espero que si así es que sea bajo mejores condiciones de trabajo-

-Eso seria imposible- Ishmael saco su Thompson de los escombros y la limpio rápidamente con algunos golpes, cambio el cargador de cincuenta balas por otro y miro de vuelta a Howlett. -Por si las dudas, ya sabes-

-Me lo imagine-

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

The Misadventure of Carlo Belruso

"Watch the coat! Hey-- Hey!" There was a commotion inside the local tavern of Kain'Tus, now only known as Kantus, that grew to an almost threatening point. The apparent resolution for the problem inside was a male human flying through the door frame of the tavern, he covered his face as he landed roughly in some mud that stank to feces. After he had landed in the mud and tried to recover himself as fast as he could a group of Draconian Imperial soldiers formed around him, tall, burly, still dressed in their grays and carrying their service guns. "I told him I would pay him later!"

"That's not what he is saying" The Sergeant, the figure was easily recognized by the Imperial Dragon etched on the helmet with a roman numeral two in the middle, pulled his sword from the sheath, an old officer saber from the pre-Imperial days, a rare sight in this time and day, then pointed at the human with it, the cleanliness of the artifact of heydays partially reflected back at him to the point he could see himself, his neck, reflected on the blade. "Our Lieutenant has patience and confidence in you but I say you are just a scoundrel looking for a quick tap and run"

"Sir, I feel offended!" He quickly rose up and stood as tall as he could, at that point he barely reached the Sergeants shoulders, and cleaned what he could with his bare hands, his face specially, spreading mud everywhere, even to the other soldiers who grunted back at him. "A man of my level would never do such a lowly thing. I wish that you apologize for that!"

"I owe no apologies to your kind, scum" The blade moved closer to the human, it flashed quickly and it stood a fingers distance from his chest.

"I demand to be recognized for what I am, as a citizen of the Empire!" The Sergeant have him a cocky smile.

"Your papers then, citizen" The man rushed through the many pockets of his coat and pants which only provoked laughter from the soldiers, he had to be careful though since there was too much inside the pockets that he did not want them to found out, it had been a highly productive night and the interception by Lieutenant Dael soldiers put a heavy strain on his work. "You left them on your other coat, citizen?" He played for a few more seconds and rapidly produced the papers from within his coat. "Hmm"

"Inner lining pockets, I always forget about those" The Sergeant carefully placed his sword back into the sheath and examined the papers.


"Carlo Belruso" The human clapped the back of his shoes, heel with heel.


"Taer'Sin, bay city of the green kingdom"

"That is Taer now, citizen, Capital of the state of Sindoru. Remember that" Carlo

"I will Sergeant, I will also take my papers to the Office of Citizenship for correction"

"Good. Fair enough that I need not remind you of this" The Sergeant examined the papers again and the small booklet in which they came inside. "What class is your citizenship?"

"Human, Second Class non-Imperial" The Sergeant gave a couple of nods as he continued going through the papers.

"The Empire processed nineteen thousand Third Class licenses and one thousand Second Class licenses. What exactly was your profession during the Elvish occupation?"

"Why I was a tailor!"

"A tailor..." The Sergeant looked at the men around him who were just waiting the order, or a signal of any kind, to beat the man where he stood and take him to the pen. "And exactly who did you serve?"

"The former King. I was one of the many tailors at his service and so was my father and his father" The Sergeant gave a slight nod as he walked to a place with more light to examine the papers with even more detail. "If you need proof I can give you some?"

"I have enough proof as it is"

"Ah. See, nothing to worry, it is just that I am running with a bad streak of luck, with the war and all"

"Yes the war" He turned his attention from the book towards the Human. "One final question"

"Sure, go ahead Sergeant" The calmness in the voice of Belruso was breaking, he knew there was something going on with the Sergeant but he could not rush unless he wanted to be filled with lead then choking for air on the ground.

"How do you spell your last name, with an s or a z?" Belruso hesitated for a second, drinking put a strain on his memory and he found himself doubting which papers he had delivered to the Sergeant, he had to play it smooth even if he missed it.

"With an s my good man although they misspell it with a z, another thing I have to correct at the Office first thing in the morning" The Sergeant gave a nod then ripped the papers apart and threw them to the mud, the soldiers rapidly raised their guns and cocked them for firing. "What?"

"Hard to misspell that when your last name is Balru, isn't it?"

"A common misunderstanding from the Office my good man!" The Sergeant unsheathed his sword again and pointed as Belruso with it.

“To prison with you!”

“Come now Sergeant, be reasonable, it is a mistake on your end not mine”

“Mistake was to give you a second chance, our Lieutenant has been very patient and kind with you but I do not share his sympathy for you, the gallows sound like a more fitting place for you”

Shit, Belruso thought about the situation but he found himself in a hard position to escape, it would be better for him, as he had played all the possible scenarios, to be taken to prison and work from there than try to make a run for it.

“Fine then, I will pay for a mistake made by you, your Lieutenant will not let this pass though, remember that”

“Shut up and walk”

Monday, February 8, 2016

Wake up Call

“Poseidon this is March Walker Twenty Seven, we’ve found some debris on the surface, may be something of importance, over” Corporal Waldo Ibañez looked at the strange charred and twisted pieces of metal over the barren planet surface, a planet infested with heat, pollution of unknown sources and impossible amounts of broken remains from civilizations past gone for an unknown time, the exploration team had been dropped in what was deemed the safest area of the planet in order to probe for possible resources or technology that could be salvaged. “I think we might have found something important… hopefully” He said to himself as he awaited a reply from Poseidon, the rest of his team looked around, moved rocks, examined some of the metallic remnants and took samples with them and into a small solar cart that followed them around in order to stash their discoveries.

“March Walker Twenty Seven this is Poseidon, cleared for investigation and extraction as deemed fit, over and out” A good sign, he thought, as the unlock code ran through his visor, he sent this to all the equipment and suits nearby and with it Waldo and his team began the excavation process, heavy machinery rapidly came to life and proceeded to break down any debris blocking their progress and processing anything the team had marked previously as unusable as is, which meant grinding and forging. After half a planet day they had found nothing of importance, they had recovered resources but Waldo was conscious that more could be obtained by mining raw ore than what they had pulled from this operation. “Shit, command is going to rip me a new one for this” He said through the local comm and his team cheered him and asked him to remain positive, they had just begun an operation that was deemed for at least one Earth year. “Poseidon this is March Walker Twenty Seven, we have--”.

“Hey Waldo, wait, I’ve got something here!” The team of eight rapidly gathered around the private in yellow power armor and red visor, they examined it rapidly and at first it seemed a sort of metal tomb in the shame of a humanoid figure.

“March Walker Twenty Seven this is Poseidon, repeat”

“Poseidon this is March Walker Twenty Seven, hold on” Waldo moved in closer and examined the object, it was not a tomb per-say but he had seen or read something about this, in Earth exploration times the members of a crew would be sometimes jettisoned into space to avoid cannibalism when resources were running short, in other instances they would bury them in their armor if the conditions outside did not allow it or if they were bound to pick them up after an operation and it was unfeasible to carry the extra weight, for said purpose the emergency beacon would be turned on and deliver a signal asking to bring the deceased somewhere, this one in particular was not sending any sort of signal which gave several possible scenarios, it was either damaged beyond repair or the battery inside had run out. Whichever was the final case it meant good salvage which in turn meant good credit on the Company, putting more thought on it Waldo figured more of these should be somewhere on the planet and with luck they would be at reachable distance.

“Poseidon this is March Walker Twenty Seven, we have good loot on our hands, send in collector for inventory cleansing”

“March Walker Twenty Seven this is Poseidon, collector heading your way, signal will be sent when arrival is at the thirty second mark, keep everything in a designated area and mark it for pickup, over”

“Poseidon this is March Walker Twenty Seven, loud and clear” Waldo looked at the armor then back at his team and the equipment still running around. “Alright team listen up, get everything ready for collection; Chunky, mark the spot for pickup”

“On it” Chunky had a yellow power armor with black stripes crossing horizontally through his torso, he took out a small metallic tube, pressed one of the sides and created a large square in the ground, as soon as he finished he pressed one of the ends again and the machinery stopped working then walked to the newly created square to drop whatever they had gathered.

“So, what is it?” Asked Meinz, his power armor blue with a white helmet and black visor, as he kept examining the recovered tomb-armor with curiosity but without touching anything on it.

“It could be a tomb as Chunky mentioned or it could be lost equipment, casualties of war. It looks old, older than anything we usually run through the Company”

“I think I know what it is” The old-timer, Greg, had been around the Company longer than most of the field operatives or officers, while he had been liberated from any heavy work at the Company or any work at all if he wished but he decided to go into the field to avoid feeling useless.

“Give me some ideas Greg, is it from back in your day?” Everyone laughed, Greg chuckled for a while and approached the tomb-armor, he removed dust from the top and the sides, noticed there was no equipment and an empty utility belt, small marks on the front and the left side but nothing severe. “So?”

“It's not a tomb, this is not even Human, probably a machine of sorts” Replied Greg as he continued examining, moving it to the side and examining the back he found what looked like a service panel, removing it without the necessary tool would probably damage something in the process so he left it and placed it the way it was. “Definitely a machine, probably a service unit”

“What's it doing this far out into the Rim?” Asked Chunky as he formed up with the rest. “Weren't those only designated for the inner worlds?”

“Well you are in a way right about it, this should not be here but it is here and it is not working, I see no damage on any side aside from some dents which makes me suspicious about it”

“You think it still works?” Asked Waldo as he reached for his side-arm, a large laser pistol he could only wield with his power armor.

“I doubt it” Replied Greg with a serene voice as he examined the head of the tomb-armor. “We could probably salvage some parts and if we are lucky enough the memory core, transferring the information is a whole 'nother story”

“Anything else you know about this, Greg?” Asked Chunky looking intrigued at Greg who in turn would not stop examining the tomb-armor.

“There is a possibility though that this robot is an old remnant of an ARC expedition, it would be far-fetched though”

“No, that would make perfect sense now that you mention it” Said Waldo who rapidly started looking for information on his visor. “The old ARC's were not designed with the same layout”

“Could be a miner expedition sent by Earth, we do know for a fact that they sent many ARC ships out into space but for one to reach this far is crazy” Replied Greg as he stood up  and wondered, he looked around him and the machinery still dropping their salvage and it struck him right there “That makes sense now, the debris around the planet could be remnants of the ARC, reaching this far into space probably sent it into emergency mode and it crashed into the surface. What a tragedy”

“That's horrible” Added Meinz “Do you think that's what happened?”

“Who knows, so far it seems reasonable to assume that” Answered Greg while looking towards space. “We did not find any ships floating or sending distress signals, no lifeboats, escape pods, tubes or boxes to hint us in the right way”

“We'll let the Company figure it out”

The Rats

It was through the old streets of Jerusalem, at night, with trembling torches in one hand, the other at the ready to draw for the threat of Saladin was near.

The night stood quiet, too quiet, the wind from time to time hit the patrol tenderly but every time it felt as if a knife was crossing through their skin, that they had been betrayed by their senses and their death had finally arrived.

None of this had happened so far, the weeks at night quiet but tense and even more during the day with everyone waiting for the dreaded strike, the patrols doubled and tripled, men pushed to the brink by the horror of a full scale attack, how would they fare, how long could they survive, how horrible would be their death, some had come to bet on the situation, the money had been hidden in a reservoir, at the bottom, for the survivors to live off from it as an insurance, others would drink it all away and hope for the best, or the worst.

Throughout the dead streets they heard their own footsteps, always wary of the direction the sound came from it never ceased to stress them, their armor crunching and ripping, leather and metal in clash, the torches cracking slowly and if they stood quiet long enough not only could they hear their breathing, their heartbeat throbbed hard on their ears, fast.

It wasn't long for them to find an oddity in the streets, a man lay dead, at first they stood in shock at the visage, then rapidly attended the body to find the culprit, their failure to rapidly grasp what was happening led them to their doom.

Rats, rushing out of the shadows in the hundreds, silently awaiting for their next pray, screams of panic and warning were followed by those of pain and horror, the torches did little to put them out of harms way, swords ineffective with such small targets even in the quantities present they seemed well aware of their intentions and evaded easily, their armors useless as the rodents flew towards their face and any openings between legs, arms or chest, no flesh left to tear, no bones left to gnaw, the metal and leather turn to pieces or taken away by the wave, the torches only a few splinters now, nothing remained save for the infusion of terror that the surrounding inhabitants had to live with every night, pray the next victims were not them.

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Memories: March 30th, 2012

It begins on a Friday, Friday the 30th of March 2012, with a relatively big tribute to Dio and Ozzy Osbourne, comparing it with El Foro which is one of the biggest structures for such an event. This bar, the TJ Art & Rock Café, I visit the most now after my confrontation with a dog at the other bar I swore to help in any way possible… sadly betrayed but not angry, why would anyone be angry because of that when you can always walk away. That went well, a bit mashed up, a bit wet, never one to miss on a nice mosh pit, always ready and I was about ready to go speak to someone but then I examined my surroundings. “Got too much meat around that fridge, fuck it I’m out”
I also got the tickets for that Transmetal gig we’re having on April the 20th that Gustavo wants to go see so badly but apparently they don’t have some sort of seal or mark which they’ll put in next week when the guy in charge of the tickets returns with more of them.
Got home at 3 in the morning, had to check some stuff, found some of the guys still up and doing some play testing on someone’s house, Napo I believe it was, for the games we were to setup at 8 AM for a convention called Com Com… we had approximately 3 hours of sleep, when I speak of ‘we’ I mean most of the crew because apparently we all coordinated in a subconscious level and decided to get drunk and deprive ourselves of much needed sleep that not even a shower, hot coffee and some Taquitos de Birria could fix, yeah not even the salsceado ones and don’t look at me weird because of that. Stomach and throat are burning up… I hate gastric acid.
This place is relatively big, the biggest convention probably ever made for this kinda deal, and I dare compare it to Comic-Con International only because I see the possibility of it outgrowing the facility and bringing in more cash and people that ever before which, for this city, is good as we have always lived from the tourism. Getting there was a bit of an adventure and I found it funny at first that there was only another person, Springa, from our Role-playing Group, Tijuana RPG, present. Nevertheless we did our setup but found that we had no chairs or tables for that matter, apparently there was a lack of them everywhere but the staff was clever enough to get us some round tables and chairs plus water, because you can never have enough water for such a thing as being a Game Master.
9 AM and Zilvan arrives telling us that Napo and Rudy are outside waiting to do check in, Rosales and his brother, Luis, came later on with the rest of the stuff and the Dragon head. Alex and Toño, Emmet, who arrived considerably late, and Badilla, who was just playing and chatting around, it was a long day but it was fun as hell to get everything assembled and see people interested in Role-Playing games.
The fifteen tables in front of us have the Yu-Gi-Oh! Card game, should have brought my old deck but I’m sure they would have told me to “Fuck off and die in a fire with my legacy cheap one shot kill deck”.
1 PM and I’m exhausted of pulling people onto the tables, which to our surprise were actually full, brimming with people, we never expected these many, for once I am glad our theory of no one being interested in this wasn’t right at all. Napo, Springa and Emmet saw the most traffic, playing seven tables during the entire duration of the event, then Zilvan saw two or three, Alex saw two tables but they lasted somewhere around two hours, then Toño had two tables, Rosales had one early in the morning and I had two tables by the late part of the day, finally Rudy had no tables because he could never get the idea of Sailor Moon rolling there… no questions asked there. We covered all our bases and by the end of the day everything was said and done, we were tired, hung over, we hadn’t really eaten that much, there wasn’t any water left, we were pumped on sugar, nicotine and adrenaline, our voices boomed for ten hours, some were sweating, we got enough attention for people to interview the group, we were on the map now, no seriously we were on the map of the convention area, but most importantly we were now on the main radar and people now more than ever know that there is a group of Table Top Role-players who gather every Sunday from 1 to 6 PM on an abandoned plaza for our favorite games for no charge, memberships or fees.
Of interest, and for those who may want to know, the running tables were Star Wars D20 by Alex, Generic Dungeons and Dragons 4th Edition by Zilvan and that other guy who I can’t remember his name, I have no clue what Rosales was doing but I can imagine something like “…And you find an elite mind flayer riding a beholder…”, Napo was running a homebrew of Diablo II on Dungeons and Dragons 3.5, Emmet was running a homebrew version of Final Fantasy Tactics, which was absolutely awesome and he had to make from scratch since the system was no existent for a table top, Toño was running Metal Gear Solid on an unknown system but the setting he had was awesome, which makes me sad because he only had the two tables with two players, Springa was running Slayers D20 with an awesome setup he took half an hour to make, which in no way takes credit away from Emmet or Napo who also took their respective amount of time to build their environments, I was running a homebrew version of X-COM: Enemy Unknown/Ufo Defenses using the D&D 3.5 system which turned out to be way better than expected and showed me, personally, that people are willing to sacrifice themselves for their team mates, and that is how the term Vazquez came to be and has become continuously used for said selfless sacrifice which the reader may remember or watch on the Aliens movie when Vazquez and Gorman blow up with a grenade thus giving the rest some time to escape.
Curiously, later on, I noticed there was a couple watching some of the books setup on the Star Wars table and it turns out that the lady was completely excited as she noticed the Vampire: The Masquerade Core Rule Book laying around in our table, she mentioned her fond memories of it, how she played it some 15 years ago and how much she would like to return to it. Funny thing is that I brought that book because I wanted to read it but I never managed since I was always busy chatting with someone, convincing them that we weren’t charging jack or simply inviting them to play with us.
This gig was done, we have pictures to prove we managed it, we have video, we have fond memories, Com Com 2012 left a good impression on us and so we did onto it, we laughed, enjoyed and everyone parted their own way but not before that happened… that question, which sparked us to sing along and that the reader may find on the bottom of this lecture, diary, story, whatever you want to call it. In any given case I was late for a party and I had to run, had to find something quick to eat but there was nothing nearby the taxi lane, called Bola, told him I would be there in 10, I was starving, had to get a damn hot dog on an Oxxo, a small convenience store just like 7-11 but you’ll find one of these every three or four blocks and that is no joke, and the thing fell off before I could finish preparing it, cleaned it off, ate it, ran, no cabs coming, called Bola to tell him I’m running late, had to go three blocks into the next boulevard and get a red cab, drop on El Mercado de Todos, keep walking down, called back, “Almost there, gimme 5”, got there, Doc was there, Mota is his last name but I have decided to start calling him Doc since 10 years of studying are well damn worth it for someone to be called a Doctor or Doc, then Bola who is Ozzy brother, Ozzy being a friend from high school and a mutual friend of me and Doc, and Choppa, or Chopper, Shoppa, Compulsive Shoppa who we also, at some point, knew as Torres and is a friend we met through Ozzy.
We finally go out to that house, located between lunar craters of all sorts, but not before passing through another Oxxo a couple of blocks away from Bolas’ house to get some beer, a couple of Bohemias and Heineken, and a sandwich because I’m still starving, no change as usual, paid with my credit card and got the money from each one of them, 200 pesos, funny number for a funny night, off we go.
Man, fuck Edgar and his map” Was the general opinion as we ran through this horrendously Paint drawn map that made no sense at all, apparently Bola, Shoppa and Doc had a not so pleasant time trying to translate this with the help of Google Maps and even then we got lost a couple of times, fell into a couple of craters and finally managed to get to the house. Finally a well deserved party for the success of today.
The crew was there, same crew we saw when Edgar graduated on Wednesday, after five and a half years, from the Industrial Engineering career, which reminds me that, from what they said, they are not real Engineers but rather Licenciados which is the lowest step on the college branch… heh, makes me laugh even now. We had a couple of beers, then a couple more, people kept bringing Indio, I hate fucking Indio, but when you have no choice you go for what you get, even Light beer. We saw them playing some games, me from the back because I wasn’t up for any alcohol challenges as I had enough for that day with all that had been going on at the convention and the gig on Friday which had left me pretty roughed up, but I did enjoy a couple of vodka soaked gummy bears and worms, Doc had his full share of ‘em and he wasn’t enjoying them the next day, then I managed to get a smoke from some random dude that apparently was part of the Rebel Alliance group down here in Tijuana, damn the world is small, who I had never seen before although I was aware we had people from the official club down here and even members of the 501st Legion that belongs to the Empire. Bro. A. came by, guy was drunk as hell when we were leaving and talking to his girlfriend on the Netherlands for like two hours but that’s OK as the party he is working for is paying for everything, I think, and hell making a two hour call to the Neatherlands, to your girlfriend, is quite something and I approve of this as I’ve done equal or worse, like an hour to the United Kingdom just to talk with a mate in Ipswich. There was also the weed incident which I will say nothing about except that you should NOT smoke weed in a kitchen where everyone is watching you do it before asking the owner if it’s cool or not, I personally don’t mind what you do with your stupid ass as long as you don’t hurt or kill someone.
Once gone we were looking for something to eat, we ended up going for some tacos that were 18 pesos, 18 fucking pesos each because they were using New York cut but hell they couldn’t spare any Guacamole, cebollitas, Salsa Verde o Roja, nothing extra aside from the meat, the tortilla and a damn slice of avocado, you, cheap, bastards.
We went to Bolas’ home to sleep. We managed. Doc was continuously visiting the bathroom. Shoppa was up since around 10 AM, same as me, we started chatting and sharing crazy stories, like that time I ended up asleep at Edgars’ bathroom in a party while taking a dump, when asked who was inside I replied with “¡El Papa!” or the Pope, which to clarify was something that started because of El Verguillas, a web series found on YouTube, in which a fighter says that he dedicates his victory to the Pope, or that time Shoppa ended up naked, along with some other thirty people, in a crazy party involving watermelon and date liquor that degenerated pretty fast with strip poker, no one could find their clothing or cell phones, there were five guys sleeping together, one next to each other. Good times.
Edgar had called in early in the morning, apparently someone had taken his keys with that bottle opener, La Llave del Chez as he calls it since it looks like those ancient keys, but that’s a mistake, a stupid rookie mistake, he had to learn from as you never tie a damn bottle opener to your key chain. Couldn’t find them, went back to sleep, but turns out they were on the leather jacket I had taken, Docs jacket as a matter of fact, who was doing the honor of opening the bottles… had to be a Doctor.
Edgar came for his keys, he had Domingo with him who apparently had a rough night, and we decided to go for something for breakfast, I proposed the Andobas but no one knew what it was and they didn’t trust me as it was in the downtown area, yeah you just don’t eat the three tacos for one dollar at first street and Revolucion or you’ll probably get some horrible third world disease you have never heard about, but to hell with it as we were already starving. Lend him a tener each, 10 pesos that is, to Edgar just as I had done to Bola for some gas, fucking 10 pesos a liter, and continued our path, the six of us in that small car but nothing compared to that horrible fucking Cube thing whatever the hell it is that looked like shit… whatever happened to aesthetics. Finally at the Andobas, located in 5th street just below Revolucion Street and not too far away from Le Drug Store, where La Cupula is located in which all the Goths gather every weekend or so, on 4th Street and Revolucion or Cesar’s, located over Revolucion between 5th and 4th street, where, yeah wait for it, Caesar Salad was invented, not the Roman Empire people. Everyone ordered a small torta de carne asada with a side of small fries, let me be clear that the size is relative in this place, with a coke, in my case a coffee, and we waited while they brought in the food by reading the newspaper or talking about random facts, like the Yakuza in the city, fact the government has never accepted, and that only recently they have taken into consideration as a real threat after accusations from certain people or the fact that EPN, the candidate from the PRI Party, looked like a clown, and continued to be the same stupid air-head who should keep his mouth shut unless he was in front of a teleprompter, as he was trying to create empathy with some indigenous tribes on the south of the country by dressing as them.
Finally our food arrived; my credibility rose as everyone gulped down their food and asked me how the hell I had found this place. It all goes back to when I used to go to El Divan de Alicia and Andy had proposed we go for a torta at El Andobitas which is somehow, maybe not, related to El Andobas who came as a reference from El Perro, the manager of El Divan de Alicia, and Alex, the same one that was running the Star Wars D20 table at Com Com. Funny how everything goes round and round.
We get off and I get dropped at the taxi site, fortunately there was a driver waiting to go out, El Tostiloco, and after so much going around, doing this and that, I finally get to take a bath, sit down, relax and enjoy some good hours of sleep on my bed. I know that I am missing details here but my mind is too strained and I cannot begin to figure out anything else except for this message that I leave to you, avid reader, which you may understand now that we have gotten to this point of the story.
And history speaks of a great moment during the convention but it is shrouded in mystery and myth. Only a small logical string remains in all of this… “Is this real life?”

The Atlantean Thrones and the Valve

I can’t sleep, again. I see them all over me, figures that look like demons, human with horns of all kinds, twisted and spiraling in differ...