Especial Halloween Vaughan Radio

27m · Especiales Vaughan · 31 Oct 17:10

31 October, 2012 at 12:00 midnight. A woman dancing in the street, wearing a pair of very high-heels. That was what the officer saw from his patrol car as he turned the corner. The call they had received at the police station sounded strange. Everything seemed to indicate that they were dealing with some kind of crazy lady. The policeman got out of his car carefully and glanced at his watch with dismay, as it was already midnight. The flashing lights mounted on top of his vehicle mixed with the shadows of that silhouette, casting a set of terrifying shapes on the wall. "Ma'am, eh, ma'am, are you alright?" Ignoring the officer's words, the woman just kept going. "Excuse me, you really should get inside. You’re going to get pneumonia," continued the young man, drawing a bit closer. The figure still did not answer, beginning to shake faster and faster. Suddenly the officer noticed something strange. "But, what is that?" The shape of the shadow on the wall, what should have been the woman's reflection, was different. How could that be? The policeman was baffled. He looked at the woman, then at the shadow, and couldn´t explain it. He began to retreat towards his car to call for help, but was unable, gripped by an eerie, menacing, screeching sound which grew ever louder. "What's that sound?" He had no time for anything else. A swarm of bats enveloped him, devouring his face, bite by bite. Fifteen minutes later on the ground there remained only what could have been an eye, surrounded by bones, blood and innards. "That's enough. I hope you’ve left me the best parts, my little monsters," said the woman, crouching as she neared the human remains. Reaching out, she tore away his jacket to reveal his heart, which she snatched and anxiously raised to her mouth before sinking her long fangs into it. In her mouth it was viscous and sticky as she shred it with her teeth, like a foul and insatiable beast. After eating it the woman began to cackle like some possessed hyena, spread her wings, and disappeared. A few hours before The street was shaken by peals of ferocious and menacing thunder. Heated, the house was pleasant and comfortable, but inside that woman was a cold and ice even harsher than the weather outside. The luggage was still in the spacious foyer, next to a huge wall clock, as if its owner had not yet decided whether to stay there or not. A light from an oil lamp allowed one to make out several rooms on that floor and, in the back, a staircase leading up to an utterly dark floor above. Athena was in the kitchen, one of her favorite rooms in the house. Surrounded by large pieces of wooden furniture, in the center was an island with plenty of room for cooking. Cooking for him... yes, in another time, not long ago, she would eagerly wait for the phone to ring and for that voice which she loved, and which also disquieted her, to whisper to her the happy news that they were going to meet. It was then when Athena would revive, happy, full of energy and life, transformed by her excitement over the deepest love she had ever felt in her life, but haunted by the shadow of knowing herself bound for a fatal destination, towards the deepest darkness, a place from which no one returns. That evening she really had no appetite. She didn't feel like having anything and felt a strange cold through her body. She hadn´t the strength, but she had to eat. She grabbed an apple and peeled it. As she still felt no hunger she decided to slice it up to see if this way she could bring herself to swallow something. She grabbed the wooden cutting board and a sharp knife to start the operation. "One, two, three..." Athena mechanically counted the pieces into which she divided the fruit. "How easy it is to destroy something little by little," she thought. "All you have to do is grab it and cut it, with surgeon-like precision." The tears welled up. She didn't want to shed them. She had spent too long crying, suffering, dying every day a little more. But she couldn't stop. A sea of tears filled her beautiful honey-colored eyes, blurring her vision. "Ay..." sighed Athena. The knife had slipped, giving her a shallow but very unpleasant cut. She dropped the knife and covered her face, overcome by a great sense of sorrow difficult to express with words. She didn't want to cry any more, and she was exhausted, but she didn't know how to stem that sadness coming from the depths of her soul. Desperate, she went to the living room, lay down on the couch, and ended up falling asleep.. For over a year she had been waking up in a fright in the wee hours with night terrors, but by this point she was so was so drained that she slept until the morning's first rays of light touched her face. She felt weird and didn't know why she was wearing those strange high heels that she didn't even remember she had. She went upstairs to get dressed. Her body seemed lighter than usual, as if she were going to rise off the floor any second. She got into the shower determined not to think about about anything and to unwind. Forty minutes later, more relaxed, she looked at herself in the mirror. What? Where am I? Why can't I see my reflection? What's going on? From her throat came a terrifying scream. "I need blood!" The beast had awakened. October 31, 1812, 200 years before. The shadows cast on the cold marble walls of the cemetery were creepy, but eerier still was the actual image: a procession, the very picture of human grief and weeping, followed a funeral carriage drawn by four black horses. The chariot of death had been built in the 15th century. It was black and gold, and progressed towards its destination with agonizing lethargy. Eight children carved in wood held up an excessive, overornate top crowned with a cross pointing skywards. In front a black angel, with a firm and resolute step, seemed to lead the march towards the inevitable final path. On the coffin rested a red rose, a symbol of extreme love and eternal adoration. Alex c0ouldn't bear the sight. Atop his horse, far away, he gazed on at that incredible scene, the disturbing sound of the carriage's wheels reaching him. His heart was shattered. His life had ended when hers did. Now that Eloisa was gone nothing made sense. Everything had ended, to start all over again. That night the moon struggled to emerge from behind the clouds, just like that body strove to emerge from its tomb. Eloisa squirmed in her coffin. As she opened her fearsome eyes her long, sharp fangs gnashed with deadly desire. A terrifying scream shot out of the depths. Eloisa was doomed, a shadowy being who had fallen into the clutches of eternal death. Condemned to repeat, again and again, the macabre ritual of searching for victims to feed upon, dragged into the world of the undead, unable to quench her bloodthirst... Eloisa had rejected true love and been shackled by the prince of the night. Eloisa wanders in time and shall do so forever, thirsting for blood. She takes different names. She can be anywhere. In each non-life she has the same thing happens: she renounces her true love and succumbs to the darkness. Her insatiable appetite makes her a despicable murderer and a thief of spirits, trapped in a loop that repeats itself across time, like the echo of this story. Written by Helena Lopez-Casares © 2012. Vaughan Radio Todos los derechos reservados 31 de octubre de 2012 a las 12:00 de la noche. Una mujer bailando en la calle subida a unos tacones de vértigo. Eso fue lo que vio el oficial del coche patrulla al torcer la esquina. La llamada que habían recibido en la comisaría sonaba extraña. Todo parecía indicar que se trataba de una loca. El policía bajó del coche con cautela y miró su reloj contrariado, pues ya era medianoche. Las luces que proyectaba la sirena del vehículo se mezclaban con las sombras de aquella silueta, generando en la pared unos movimientos terroríficos. -Señora, eh, señora ¿se encuentra bien? La mujer, ajena a las palabras del policía, seguía a lo suyo. -Disculpe, debería entrar en casa. Va a coger una pulmonía –prosiguió el joven acercándose un poco más. La figura seguía sin responder y se agitaba cada vez con más fuerza. De pronto, el policía advirtió algo raro. -Pero, ¿qué es eso? La sombra de la pared, que era el reflejo de la mujer, estaba haciendo otros movimientos distintos. ¿Cómo era posible? El policía estaba desconcertado. Miraba a la mujer, miraba a su sombra y no entendía nada. Comenzó a retroceder hacia el coche para pedir ayuda, pero no pudo. Unos gritos como de ultratumba se acercaban de forma amenazante. -¿Qué es ese ruido? Ya no le dio tiempo a más. Una jauría de murciélagos lo atrapó, devorándole la cara a mordiscos. Quince minutos más tarde en el suelo sólo quedaban los restos de lo que podía haber sido un ojo, rodeados de huesos, sangre y trozos de vísceras. -Ya está bien. Espero que me hayáis dejado lo mejor, mis pequeños monstruos –dijo la mujer agachándose hacia el despojo humano. Alargó la mano para apartar la chaqueta dejando al descubierto el corazón. Lo cogió y se lo llevó a la boca con desesperación, atrapándolo con unos colmillos largos y prolongados. El ruido del corazón en su boca era viscoso, pegajoso. Lo estaba triturando con sus dientes como una bestia inmunda e insaciable. Tras comérselo, la mujer comenzó a reír como una hiena poseída, desplegó sus alas y desapareció. Unas horas antes En la calle los truenos amenazaban con ferocidad la noche. En el interior de la casa el calor era agradable, confortable, pero dentro de aquella mujer, el frío y el hielo acechaban con más fuerza que fuera. Las maletas aún estaban en el amplio vestíbulo, al lado de un enorme reloj de pared, como si su propietaria no hubiera decidido todavía si quedarse o no en aquel lugar. Una luz procedente de un quinqué dejaba intuir varias estancias en esa planta y, al fondo, una escalera que daba acceso a un piso superior totalmente a oscuras. Athena estaba en la cocina, una de las estancias de la casa que más le gust

The episode Especial Halloween Vaughan Radio from the podcast Especiales Vaughan has a duration of 27:54. It was first published 31 Oct 17:10. The cover art and the content belong to their respective owners.