Esterina – Chapter One
Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain. – 2008
Esterina Maria Saenz i Creus.
Beautiful Barcelona should have been in the height of a fiesta that night. The moon's full beam lit the city as brightly as the ominous street lamps which lined the path which Noralí had just taken.
The Brunette skipped quickly ahead of me as I followed close behind, walking at a brisk pace with the thin material of my cardigan wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I cursed under my breath which fogged in front of me in the cold night air.
Noralí cackled as she sped on ahead of me. The sound of her flip flops clacking against the cobbled pavement and the bare skin of her heel echoed as she took a diversion through a pedestrian tunnel situated below the city's metro line.
"Noralí!" I called after her, unwilling to follow her any further. Our Father would undoubtedly be mad at us for staying out so late and he was not the sort of man to be messed with.
My ankles burnt from the friction caused by my new boots and I sunk to the floor and sat upon the cobbles close to the middle of the tunnel. Noralí had paused too at the end of the tunnel. A tall, olive-skinned and bearded young man of no more than 20 years of age had her engaged in conversation. I watched them for a moment in my perpetual vision as I removed my boots and rubbed at the skin which had peeled back to reveal a bloody mess where the blisters had burst open on both heels.
A low, feral growl echoed around the tunnel and I scrambled to my feet as the sound of Noralí' scream surrounded me. I found my feet only to be knocked down again; not by the force of a blow, but by a searing pain at the back of my head. My vision became clouded and I slipped into a dream-like state.
The raven-haired woman ran along the street, being pursued by a cloaked man. From beneath her own cloak the maiden withdrew a silver hilted sword and held the weapon up to the sky. The dim moonlight caught the blade of the sword and reflected upon the stranger's features. The cloaked figure's grotesque features were revealed by the maiden with a quick flick of her sword which drew a thin line of blood from their cheek. The once-cloaked figure's eyes were deep set and yellow, they reminded Esterina of one of the stray neighbourhood cats that her Mother used to tend to. In one swift movement the beast reached out and clasped one of his large hands around the maiden's neck. He pressed the girl's back against his chest as he held her above ground, the tips of her toes brushing against the cold stone below. His grip on her neck never slackened as he lifted his head to the sky, mouth open, poised as if he were about to bite. His incisors were elongated, longer than any teeth that Esterina had ever seen, if she had to describe them, she'd call them fangs. He lifted the woman higher as she squirmed in his arms, protesting his hold on her. Her fingers came up to around his wrist. Her knuckles turned white as her gripped tightened, the beast's mouth clamped down on the tender flesh of her neck. Esterina heard the unmistakeably sound of piercing flesh as if it were in her own ears. The girl's hand fell limp by her side as she slumped in the beast's hold as he drained her.
When I came round I knew two things; that girl had been real and that girl was dead.
My head snapped up as she remembered what I had heard before she had slipped into the vision, the scream.
"Noralí!" I cried as I ran barefoot to the mouth of the tunnel where I had seen my sister with the dark figure.
Finding neither I pivoted on the spot and slammed my fist into the bricked wall of the tunnel. I sprung backwards in surprise as 4 of the bricks crumbled to my feet in front of me. The somewhat structure had somehow been broken by the force of my fist meeting it.
Feeling cold, lost and confused I hurried to a local convent where I had found solace on more than one occasion when my Father had come home drunk and beaten both myself and Noralí. Sister Maria Olaya was a kind woman of around 50 and had become somewhat of a surrogate mother to me.
Her warm smile was what greeted me when the convent door was flung open."Esterina! Preciosa" she said, stepping aside so that I could walk through the door into the safety and warmth of the convent.
"I wasn't expecting you tonight" she continued, leading me along the hallway into her office at the end of it. "I would offer you a bed but all of them are taken tonight, we have a group staying with us".
"A group?" I asked perplexed.
"Sí" she poured me a glass of whisky before pressing a finger to her thin, wrinkled lips and continuing her story, "just for clarification before you meet them, I do not sympathise with nor condone their witchcraft".
As she had spoken an orange-yellow ball of a plasma-like light flew through the door and hit me square in the chest. I had to grip the sides of my chair to stay within it and not topple over backwards. Several members of the group – I presumed since I knew every member of the convent- ran into the room, pointing and whispering between them.
"We've found another one, Donna!" one of them called. Before long another woman joined the group crowded around me and asked them to step aside so that she could examine me.
"Excellent, she is much needed. Buffy has 10 times our number in her Italian squad" the woman seemed ticked irritable and towered over me by at least 4 inches.
"Could you explain what that yellow thing was, and what I am being recruited for?" I asked solemnly. I needed to find Noralí and as far as I was concerned, they were wasting my time.