Fiction: The guest/ El invitado (ENG/ ESP)


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Pixabay

The guest

Lencho stopped in that town by simple chance: he had to rest before continuing on the road to the mines. While he was resting he looked at that white house that seemed to have belonged to a wealthy and aristocratic family, but also because of its high degree of deterioration, it seemed to be abandoned.

"Maybe the owners have gone to the mines and have left some of their belongings stored there,” said Lencho, looking from one side to the other, hoping that no one would notice his interests:

"Maybe I can get in and take the valuables and sell them later",_ Lencho licked his whiskers imagining the small fortune he could find inside those destroyed walls.

For the inhabitants of that town, Lencho went unnoticed. They were used to thousands of strangers passing through their streets on their way to the mines and that some of those people spent one or two days in improvised rooms and then continued on their way.

And that was what Lencho had done: staying two days, but checking the surroundings of the house and perfecting his plan to rob it:

"When it gets to be 12 o'clock at night, I'll go in and take the valuables they find inside.


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Pixabay

On the second day, when it was 12 o'clock, Lencho came out of the bushes where he had been hiding and entered the house. As he had imagined, the house was alone and full of valuables. In his eagerness to take everything, Lencho began by searching the upstairs bedroom. As he was going through the jewelry boxes in the combing machine, he heard a commotion. At first he thought the noises were coming from outside the house, but then he realized that the noise was coming from the first floor of the house:

"It can't be that the owners are back",_ exclaimed Lencho not believing his bad luck.

So he put his ear to the door to listen better. Indeed, the noise was coming from the house and it seemed to be the noises of a party: the loud music, the disproportionate laughter of the people and the murmur as if it were a great procession of people. Incredulous, unable to understand where so many people had come from, he opened the door and decided to go downstairs.

His steps were slow, small and despite the coolness of the night, Lencho's forehead was soaked with sweat. His hands touched the roughness of the chipped and mildewed walls, and his chest was an echo box of his heartbeat. Lencho stopped when the music stopped and only the laughter of the people could be heard, at the same beat, at the same moment:

"Hahahahahaha". -they stopped laughing and then came back:

"Hahahahahahaha. Welcome to the party,” they said loudly and as if the people were a breeze, Lencho felt a shiver run through his body and left all his hairs standing on end as if they were needles pricking his skin. Lencho's body became paralyzed and even if he wanted to move, his legs did not respond. It was then that he heard a thousand voices in his ears, saying like a chorus:

"Welcome, welcome" - they shouted and shuffled their feet making a noise of a thousand footsteps on the dirty floor.


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Pixabay

Lencho pulled out the strength that only fear gives and ran down the stairs leaving behind him the noise of the great celebration of shadows. Without being able to avoid it, in the race, Lencho turned his face and looked at the house: dark and abandoned, as if there was no one inside, as if it was not full of noises and spirits. Lencho, then, went into the darkness of the night, his eyes wide open, making a thousand crosses on his face, fearing that even his own shadow was chasing him.

All images are free of charge and the text is my own, translated in Deepl

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Thank you for reading and commenting. Until a future reading, friends

Click here to read in spanish


El invitado
Lencho se detuvo en aquel pueblo por simple casualidad: debía descansar antes de seguir el camino hacia las minas. Mientras descansaba miró aquella casa blanca que por su aspecto parecía haber pertenecido a una familia pudiente y aristócrata, pero también por su alto grado de deterioro, parecía estar abandonada.
_Tal vez los dueños se hayan ido hacia las minas y hayan dejado todas sus cosas guardadas allí -se ilusionaba Lecho, mirando de un lado a otro, esperando que nadie se diera cuenta de sus intereses:
_Tal vez pueda entrar y tomar los objetos de valor para luego venderlos -Lecho se relamía los bigotes imaginando la pequeña fortuna que podía encontrar dentro de aquellas destruidas paredes.
Para los habitantes de aquel pueblo, Lencho pasó desapercibido. Estaban acostumbrados a que miles de extraños pasaran por sus calles rumbo a las minas y que algunas de esas personas pernoctaran uno o dos días en habitaciones improvisadas y luego continuaran su camino.
Y era eso lo que había hecho Lencho: quedarse dos días, pero revisando los alrededores de la casa y perfeccionando su plan para desvalijarla:
_Cuando se hagan las 12 de la noche, entraré y tomaré las cosas de valor que hallan adentro.
Al segundo día y cuando se hicieron las 12, Lencho salió de entre los matorrales donde se había escondido y entró a la casa. Cómo lo había imaginado, la casa estaba sola y estaba llena de cosas de valor. En su afán de llevarse todo, Lencho comenzó por revisar la habitación de la planta superior. Mientras vaciaba los joyeros que estaban en la peinadora, escuchó un alboroto. Al principio creyó que era la parte de afuera de la casa, pero luego se dió cuenta que el ruido venía de la planta baja de la casa:
_No puede ser que los dueños hayan vuelto -exclamó Lencho sin creer en su mala suerte.
Así que pegó el oído a la puerta para escuchar mejor. Efectivamente, el ruido provenía de la casa y parecían ser los ruidos de una fiesta: la música estridente, la risa desproporcionada de la gente y el murmullo como si se tratara de una gran procesión de personas. Incrédulo, sin poder entender de dónde había salido tanta gente, abrió la puerta y decidió bajar.
Sus pasos eran lentos, pequeños. A pesar de la frescura de la noche, la frente de Lencho estaba empapada de sudor. Sus manos tocaban la rugosidad de las paredes y su pecho era una caja reproductora del eco de los latidos de su corazón. Lencho se detuvo cuando la música se detuvo y solo se escucharon las carcajadas de la gente, al mismo compás, en el mismo momento:
_Jajajajaja. -dejaron de reír y luego volvieron:
_Jajajajaja. Bienvenido a la fiesta -dijeron en voz alta y como si la gente fuera una brisa, Lencho sintió que un escalofrío le recorrió el cuerpo y le dejó todos los vellos como si fueran agujas pinchando su piel. El cuerpo de Lencho se paralizó y aunque hubiese querido moverse, sus piernas no le respondían. Fue entonces cuando escuchó mil voces en sus oídos, que decían como un coro:
Bienvenido, bienvenido–gritaban y arrastraban los pies haciendo un ruido de mil pasos en el piso sucio.
Lencho sacó la fuerza que solo da el miedo y bajó las escaleras corriendo dejando detrás de él el ruido de la gran celebración de sombras. Sin poder evitarlo, en la carrera, Lencho volteó el rostro y miró la casa: oscura y abandonada, como si adentro no hubiese nadie, como si no tuviera llena de ruidos y espíritus. Lencho se adentró en la sombra de la noche, con los ojos muy abiertos haciendo mil cruces en su rostro.

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Thank you very much for your support, my friend

The humor I got from this surpassed the chills in the story. Good thing for Lencho that he wasn't harmed. I've read that some characters do not live to tell the story. Hehe. I deeply enjoyed this piece.

Well done.

Sometimes wrongdoers get what they deserve. Thank you for your comment

They sure do.

It was a house of terror, the man was taught a lesson for his bad behavior. I really liked how the story took on a chilling tone and the man's reaction to seeing such a spectral spectacle.

Thanks for sharing your story with us.

Excellent day.

I wish it would always be like this: the bad guys get what they deserve. Greetings and have a nice day, my friend


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