The Lost (Fragg)

El siguiente es un fragmento de una novela fantástica que escribi ya hace un buen. El titulo de la novela es The Lost y forma parte de una trilogía... aqui esta un pequeño fragmento de esa novela...

I believe in the spirit. I believe that we are all capable of constructing our own paths, our own destiny. I believe that faith is a matter of choice. Then again, I believed I served a greater purpose at one point in my life, so who am I to tell you what should or shouldn’t you believe. But you see—it’s all connected. We are all connected in some radical, twisted way to one another, even beyond our entire belief system. And to believe that dreams are the sheer image of what goes on inside your soul is the basic principle that saves you from the nightmare that you might call a reality. Faith, in many cases, is the sole provider of hope, light… and sanity.

If you believe… then you are not lost… but rather, found.


“People are talkin’ trash ‘bout yah behin’ your back, Danká, and quite frankly Ah am worried ‘bout what they say. They say tha’ yah hang ‘round a demon’s nest – a bad kind of demon’s nest, an’ that Michael thinks tha’ yah had somethin’ t’ do with tha’ demon escapin’ hell a while back.”

Danká blew out a light cloud of smoke while stroking his hands in that alley trash can to keep himself warm thanks to the bonfire inside such can. Right next to him stood an elderly black woman, looking pretty much like a classical case of homeless lunatic, dirty clothes, raggedy skirt, hobo gloves and all, looking at Danká like a mother looks at her boy trying to seek out the truth. She wore a crazy amount of necklaces around her neck, most of them made out of shells and small bones that made a whole lot of rattling noise whenever she moved around. “Don’t yah listen t’ them, Hattie,” the angel said, bringing a light in to the woman’s eyes. “People are jus’ mean an’ wanna bring everyone down these days.”

The old woman laughed delighted to hear those words. “That’s what Ah thought! There ain’t no way, no how mah’ boy would be tanglin’ ‘round bad people, nuh-ah, not mah’ boy!” she gave Danká a hug as they both laughed, then, she asked with a suspicious whisper: “Bu’ wha’ are yah doin’ ‘ere boy?! Yah know this ain’t a safe haven for yah!”

“Ah ‘ad t’ see yah, Hattie: Ah needs some info’ ‘but the A.I.S.; Ah needs t’ get in touch with somebody.”

“Michael is not allowin’ anyone near them,” Hattie sounded strange, “not even old Hattie. Ah thinks ‘e might be int’ some deep shit.”

“Yah don’t say?”

“Hm-hum. Th’ other day, Ah saws ‘im walkin’ around Main Street talkin’ t’ that no-good Camael in a very low profile. Yah don’t do tha’ unless yah have somethin’ t’ hide. Camael ain’t good angel, no sir: he makes deals with the Devil.”

“Tha’ low-rotten scum bag!” Danká sounded outraged. “No angel should be makin’ deals with the Devil, Hattie! Tha’ really blows mah bubbles!”

Hattie laughed, showing all her pearly whites as she did. Then, she abruptly stopped laughing and looked mysteriously at Danká. “Some bad voodoo mojo is goin’ on ‘ere, m’boy,” she said. “The Devil is gone, an’ for some reason Ah fear tha’ it is unnatural. The Dreamah’ is havin’ nightmares tha’ are not ‘is own: th’ darkness is callin’ th’ Waker an’ soon we’re all gonna be in grave danger…”

Danká leaned down towards her. “Don’t yah worry, Hattie; Ah’m workin’ on tha’ too. Ah would nevah let anything ‘appen t’ yah – nevah!”

Hattie smiled and pulled on Danká’s cheeks with motherly playfulness, “Mah’, mah’! You are one o’ th’ good ones, m’boy!” she kissed him on both cheeks, took off one of her necklaces and placed it around Danká’s neck. “Th’ spirit will guide yah an’ protect yah. Don’t you evah’ take this off, yah ‘ear?!” She took her shopping cart and placed some of the canned goods that Danká had dropped off when he got there, “God blesses an’ protects ‘is prodigious son at th’ ‘oly grounds, m’boy! Th’ Lord would nevah’ let anythin’ ‘appen t’ ‘is own blood.”

“Thank yah, Hattie!” Danká waved good-bye to the woman with the swinging step. He then looked up to the sky, “Oh, Hattie!” he sighed, “Ah’m really gonna miss yah when you’re gone.”

Danká returned to Aramis shortly after that, being gone for three days already. He found Aramis strangely altered, yet made no comments about it because (1) he valued his life, and (2), even thought Anavar had made him completely incapable of conceiving children, he valued his balls all the same.

“Ah spoke t’ one o’ my closest contacts,” he said in a private interview they had inside the warehouse. They had no need to turn on the lights for their magical eyes could see perfectly in the absolute darkness that surrounded them.

“Bu’ first a question: haven’t yah noticed tha’ even th’ Hunters aren’t havin’ troubles findin’ angels?”

“The images have come to my attention, yes.”

“Well, Michael and th’ rest o’ the angelical high consort have been sein’ ‘round in broad daylight by some o’ the Visionaries…”

“You saw Hattie, didn’t you,” Aramis gave him a wicked smile. Danká’s wing feathers did a little ruffle.

“So what if Ah did?!” he exclaimed in self-defense. “She told me tha’ Michael had been doin’ bad business ovah’ with Camael, and Ah for one don’t like that business relationship, it’s nothin’ bu’ bad news!”

“Yes, but did you find out anything about Lucifer?”

“Hattie tolds me tha’ we might find ‘im ovah’ at the cemetery.”

“Did that raving lunatic used such well-conceived words?”

“Not really – bu’ she did mention holy grounds, an’ what’s holier than a place where dead people hang out?”

Aramis sat back against the wall and began a quiet thinking process, broken only when Danká spoke once more, “Want me t’ send out mah’ people t’ check it out all the same?”

“Yeah,” the demon said distracted. Danká took notice of this and asked:

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“I’ve been hearing voices… and they aren’t my usual little leprechauns giving me the usual killing spree ideas.”

“That’s bad coming from yah’.”

“It’s apocalyptic, in biblical proportions!”

“Hah!” Danká laughed, “Yah’ said biblical!”


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