A Nameless Story- Part I

"First, my wittless friend, you must learn the truth about the world you roam about. And also, you must learn that in reality there is not only one layer to this world. There are thousands upon thousands, one on top of the next. They exist parallel to each other. They never touch; they never mix... and the people living in them cannot know those on the other world."

"Then how exactly did you learn this story?"

"That is a good question, young feller. And I should be a fool to answer it... just now."

"So I am not to know the whole secret. Just parts of it?"

"Glad you get the picture already."

"This is no story I wish to hear, then."

"You have begun now; there is nothing you can do to stop it. Your curiosity will drive you mad. And I am not as young as I used to be. I could die before you find out the rest of the story, and then you'll spend the rest of your days and nights wondering, fantasizing, until one day it overcomes you totally. Then you will know what a fool you were to get up and out of that door."

"You mongrel! You filthy snake!"

"There is nothing but truth in what you tell me, my friend. Nevertheless, ruthless as I am and as much as you despise me, I am afraid you will find that I am right. Much to your disadvantage. How much more difficult it is to forgive someone for being right than for being wrong. But that is quite not the question. I wonder, do you wish to find out more about the thrilling tale I offer you?"

"... Fine. I'll stay..."

"Wise of you, my young acquitance."

"You are nuts, you know. Twisted."

"Yes, you are right, once more; but you see, that is precisely the reason I'm telling you this. Should I be the one to voice it aloud, the world would never believe it."

"And will they believe it when I voice it?"

"Maybe not, but you're further away from the madhouse than I am now."

"Thanks, I fell so much better now about all of this..."

A Nameless Story

"Can you keep a secret?"
"No, not really..."
"Well, then, I suppose you are the one I should tell it to..."

Capìtulo 3

Esta mañana, cuando despertè, estaba muerta. No sè lo que ocurriò. Al menos, no conozco los detalles. Solo recuerdo... niebla... a mi alrededor. Pero no era niebla comùn y corriente. La nieba normal està usualmente dentro de los alrededores, pero esta niebla... màs bien era como si no hubiera formado alrededores aùn. Una extraña clase de niebla.

Y caras. Caras a mi alrededor, suspendidas en la niebla cual si estuviesen flotando. Pero no eran gente viva. No tenìan cuerpos.

Y solamente, morì.

¿O acaso me dormì? Asì se sentìa, de hecho. No era muy diferente la sensaciòn. Y aùn asì, no me puedo despertar. Entonces debo estar muerta. Si tan solo estuviera dormida y nada màs.

Ya no podìa pensar bien. Una extraña visiòn descendiò sobre su mente, oscureciendo todo lo demàs. Se percatò de que habìa una cara que poseìa un cuerpo propio. Era una cara que conocìa bien...

La puerta de la habitaciòn se cerrò tras una mujer de belleza rotunda, muy parecida a la chica tendida en la cama. La mujer tenìa una botella vacìa en la mano.

Chapter 3

Today, when I woke up, I was dead. I do not know what happened... at least, not all the details. I just remember... mist... all around me. But it was not common mist. Common mist is usually inside its surroundings, but this mist... it looked rather as though it had not been formed into surroundings yet. A weird kind of mist.

And faces. Faces surrounding me, hanging free in the mist as though floating. But they were not people. They had no bodies.

I just died.

Or fell asleep? That is what it felt like, anyway. It was not any different at all. And yet, I cannot wake up. Then, I must be dead. If only I were just asleep...

She could not think right anymore. A strange vision came down upon her mind, obscuring it all. She realized there was one face with a body. One face she knew only too well...

The door of the room closed behind a woman of an astonishing beauty, very much like the girl lying on the bed. The woman had an empty bottle in her hand.

Chapter 2

So when he found her lying dead upon the floor, he uttered a cry of sorrow. His precious. His beloved. His accomplice and faithful lover. He could not bring himself to look at those startingly blue eyes, wide open and unseing.

He got away from the spread-eagled corpse, unable to stand the view. Yet the horrid image would not clear off. In his mind's eye, he relieved over and over again the painful moment when he first set eyes upon his most sacred possession.

And then...

It suddenly dawned upon him. He'd lost her. She was gone forever, gone to a place where he could not get to her and from where she could not come back. This was it: He could not follow her. This time, there would be no comming back.

He got his phone out and dialed a number. Il Risstorante. There would be no dinner tonight; not at table 15, the good table. A tear ran the lenght of his face...

Capítulo 2

Y cuando la encontró muerta sobre el suelo, profirió un gemido de dolor. Su preciosa. Su amada. Su cómplice y fiel amante. No lograba posar su mirada en aquellos ojos azules, abiertos pero sin mirar.

Se alejó del cadáver, incapaz de mantener la vista fija en ningun lugar. Pero la horrida imágen no desaparecía: En su mente, revivía una y otra vez el doloroso momento en que por vez primera posó la mirada sobre su más sagrada posesión.

Y entonces...

De la nada, lo supo: La había perdido. Se había ido por siempre a un lugar a donde él no la podría seguir. Y de donde él jamás podría traerla de vuelta. Ese era el fin: No podía ir con ella esta vez. Esta vez no habría regreso.

Sacó su teléfono y marcó un número. Il Risstorante. No habría cena; no en la mesa 15, la mejor mesa. Una lágrima solitaria resbaló por su rostro.

Chapter 1

Oh, well, here I am. I am walking 'round my home, or rather the place that used to be my home. Now, I am nobody, But I used to be someone until very recently.

Look around. Something is shinning on the walls. Everything's dark, but it seems the room is spotlessly clean. Except for... dirt. Mud, to be specific. All over the floor. It's terrible... the floor is lovely, and of a very expensive marble of white... Gracious.

In the wall just ahead, a portrait. Its size, nearly as tall and thin as I myself used to be. A beautiful woman is staring back at me from the canvas. I know perfectly well that her kind face was once wet with tears, and in more than one occasion the marks of the pain her heart felt could be seen on her shinning skin. But that was a long time ago. And the most recent emotion her face expressed was of terror.

Another room. This one is bigger and much more attractive. Luxury. The walls, the floor, the furniture... everything was so exclusive. Nevertheless, the place is somber. The decoration is made in dark colors, and heavy fabrics hang on every surface. In some places, the walls shine, just like in the portrait room.

The bed is covered by a heavy, navy-blue velvet dosel. The covers are of a burned red. Curiously, mendling with the velvet's opacity, some parts shine just like in the walls; this is specially in the center of the bed...

There's someone in the bed.