Chapter 9
From the day Loreto woke up from coma, two nurses began tending to her needs and encouraging, or better said forcing her, to stand up and walk. At the beginning she had to battle the strong dizziness and loss of balance produced by two complete weeks unconscious and in bed. Slowly and with their help on both her sides, Loreto took every time longer walks through the hallway of the agency. Days after recovering consciousness they removed the stitches of the five minor cuts through which they had operated her abdomen with laparoscopy. She wore her usual outfit she had on the day they captured the terrorist: a pair of skinny jeans, a long-sleeves white T-shirt, a light pink woolen cardigan and sneakers. She didn't know for how much longer she had to stay in that place, so she asked to be arranged at least three more outfits, a task which happened with no further trouble.
The agency facilities were endless as also were many of its hallways. All common areas had a clinical look from the floor, up through the walls and the roof. All coated in light plain cold gray. Some doors along the hallway were open, allowing the opportunity to peek through to the inside. One time she saw a being the size of a bear or a gorilla with long limbs and covered in thick fur or spikes alike to a porcupine. It roared deeply as a group of six or eight agents and scientists surrounded it and tried to restrain it. This wasn't an uncommon panorama in this place. Another time she saw a red colored being which reminded her of a rattlesnake. It was so huge it hunched against the roof and slid through the walls like a worm. In its surroundings, a group of scientists wrote on tablets and binders as they kept it at bay with electric shocks. They tied the creature to a thick chain around its midsection. It opened its mouth, exposing its sharp fangs and lance-pointy tongue. Where the hell did they get these beings? Did they actually live among humans unaware of them? What did they do with them? The answer arrived on its own with the roars of pain resounding all across the hallway. Torn screams from the depths of monstrous creatures at the mercy of agents with guns, electric shocks and scientists carrying syringes loaded with unknown substances.
Nights in the room designated to Loreto were long and sleepless. She was living meters away and under the same roof of living beings, straight out of horror movies and nightmares. And somewhere out there at the other side of her closed door was the terrorist she had help capture. The lack of sleep began taking its toll on her. She didn't know where in the country or the world the agency was located. There were no windows. She had zero notion of dawn or sunset. Her sleep rhythm accommodated her whenever she felt tired either during day or night. Everyone in this place seemed to function like that. As days passed doctors continued doing exams on her to control the evolution of her cancer. They had assured her she was not to celebrate just yet, for it was very common for cancer cells to return and make metastasis after the removal of a malignant tumor. Should that be the case, the only road would be chemotherapy. That word had the weight of a death sentence. She was still struggling to get used to being a cancer patient. Out there her parents, friends, agent, producer and the record label had no idea where Loreto was nor about what she was going through. They might had declared her as missing. Her tour and engagements agenda extended years into the future. She didn't know whether she'd still be alive in one year's time. Nevertheless, physically she felt better and the surgery scars were no longer impediment for her to walk like she normally did. Her appetite had returned and so had the color to her cheeks.
She noticed the residents of this place, the agents who had captured the terrorist and whom she had helped, used to gather in around hall of opulent design and decoration which walls were an endless parade of book shelves. In one extreme there was a giant aquarium she soon realized was the home of Agent Sapien. Agent Hellboy, Red as he was called due to the color of his skin and shortened horns, and Agent Sherman, the girl who at first glance looked like yet another normal human, spent hours in that place either talking, listening to music or drinking beers. To whom she had yet seen was the tall female figure of frail complexion and blond straight hairs who joined them one day. Agent Sapien did the introductions.
"Miss Clair, allow me to introduce you to Her Highness Princess Nuala," he said in all solemnity.
A princess? Loreto offered her hand to greet her but got no reaction. She looked challenged by the happenings. She studied her. She was similarly tall as Agent Sapien, had a pale face with a huge scar which divided her cheekbones and nose. Her skin looked like it was made of marble. The amber eyes with unspeakable sadness shining through. Both her eyelids and also her mouth looked reddish, as if she had been crying for centuries. Her outfit showed her noble title. The long dress was royal blue and fashioned in a tunic design. In the middle a golden diamond-shape corset held together it with superb details in chains and symmetric engravings. The Princess observed her for only a few seconds and exchanging no word; she walked by the side of Agent Sapien. She said something in an indistinct voice and they left to the opposite extreme of the room.
"Don't take it personally," Agent Sherman said as she let herself fall onto the big brown leather sofa. "I wouldn't like to be in her shoes, to be honest. If my brother was a psychopath and I had to be the one to give him to the authorities..."
Loreto turned around and searched the Princess with her gaze. Was she actually the terrorist's sister? Agents Hellboy and Sherman read her thoughts.
"Yep, they're two drops of water," Red said, opening a bar of Snickers.
Loreto had helped to capture her brother, yet the Princess was seeking shelter in the agency and working with them against her own blood. As Agent Sherman had said, between doing the right thing and what the heart dictates, the decision is the hardest one in life. The Princess had chosen for the right thing and it was killing her.
The following day Loreto went out of her room determined to find the terrorist. Judging by the suffering written all over his sister's face, they couldn't be doing any good to him. She walked the endless hallways and eavesdropped at every closed door. Besides seeing other abominations, she found no trace of the Prince. After walking for hours on every free access corner in the facility, she was going to give up the search as she spotted a male figure dressed in dark green, military-like overall who in that moment was opening a door. Loreto hastened and encountered him. The figure turned towards her. Loreto let out a scream before she could control herself. He had no head. In its place, there was a kind of transparent helmet filled with... smoke? Both in front as at the sides of the structure above his shoulders, he had smoke valves which articulated when he spoke. This boneless and fleshless being spoke. He greeted her like it was understood. He introduced himself. Agent Johann Krauss. The name matched his strong German accent. What was it? She decided not to ask.
The department door showed a visible hollow in the handle's area. The Agent opened the way for her, arguing that thanks to her cooperation they had caught the criminal and for that reason she had the right to be there and watch. The division just at the other side of the door was reduced in size. A control panel with dozens of switchers and buttons extended from wall to wall and above it, a glass like a window. Loreto swallowed hard through the dry throat and bravely endured the wave of terror born from her core at the image at the other side. The room was slightly bigger and dimly illuminated by the halogen from the roof. All she could see was him. They had immobilized him to a vertical execution-like structure with dozens of metallic belts from the feet, going up through his long legs, naked torso, arms, neck and head. He was just as pale as the Princess and had the same straight long blond hairs and such scar crossing both cheekbones. The harshness of his features differed from his sister. The gaze hidden under a prominent brow focused on the window as if he knew himself watched. Loreto felt a chill as soon as she looked into his eyes, which from the distance seemed yellow. The skin of both his mouth as also that around his eyes was of a dark gray shade, almost black.
"What has this man done to be captured and held in these conditions?," Loreto asked with a broken voice, unable to take her eyes off him.
"Man? You're mistaken, Miss Clair. Prince Nuada is no man, he's an elf. He's the heir to the throne of the Elven kingdom of Bethmoora, located in the depths beneath New York. He wants to wage war against humans to recover the surface of the Earth and for that he murdered his own father, King Balor, cold-bloodedly. If Her Highness Princess Nuala hadn't come to us and if you hadn't helped to capture him, we may have been sorry by now."
Loreto was jaw dropped. An elf? After nearly a month in this place, two weeks in a coma and almost two conscious, she shouldn't have been surprised. However, the idea that elves really existed fascinated and unsettled her at the same time. They lived under New York. They lived underground. And he had murdered his father. She studied him again. He seemed in a kind of trance. He couldn't move, but neither did he seem alarmed. A disturbing serenity dominated his countenance.
"But, how can only one man, I mean elf, exterminate the whole human race?"
"With the help of the Golden Army," Agent Krauss cleared out.
Next, he pressed a button and bent over the microphone.
"Well Your Highness, will you cooperate with us today? Where is the incomplete crown of Bethmoora?"
Silence.
Agent Krauss pressed another button of the panel and immediately the room at the other side of the window lit in bright ultraviolet halo. The Prince screamed and clenched his jaw and eyes. He was tearing up. Far away, Loreto heard a female scream of pain. She stuck her hand to the window. The knot in her throat strangled her. The agent raised the finger from the button and the ultraviolet light ceased to shine. The Prince panted heavily, his chest and abdomen rose and collapsed against the metallic belts. Minutes later Agent Sapien arrived, erupting in the room.
"There must be another way to get the information, doctor Krauss. The Princess!," he begged strongly.
The German Agent released smoke through his mechanic gills, clicked the heels of his boots in classic German greeting and turned around. Loreto questioned Agent Sapien with her eyes.
"They're twins. What one suffers, the other does too. The link they share is very deep," he said with sadness in his voice and lowered his head.
Loreto watched the Prince one more time. If he weren't tied to such a structure, he would have already collapsed to the floor. He had been captured weeks ago and since then he was in such a state. Were elves actually intolerant to sunlight? He still gasped, his eyes still cried, yet his demeanor continued stern and focused ahead. An alien sensation of rage nested in the pit of her stomach and went upwards like lava through her chest, burning her cheeks.
"What is the incomplete crown of Bethmoora?," Loreto uttered, still fixed on the Prince. She swallowed hard through the tight knot in her throat and clenched her fists at each side of her hips.
"The crown of the Elven kingdom's throne. The Prince has in his possession two of the three parts which build it. He recovered the one which was in human hands from an auction house, killing seventy people in the process. The other piece he took it from the corpse of his father after killing him. Princess Nuala has the last piece. Therefore, we protect her. We know he won't hurt her for he would hurt himself but in any case, she is better off here with us than alone at his mercy," Agent Sapien said with frustration in his voice. "Once the crown is whole, the Prince will be able to awaken the Golden Army, the armed hand of the elves which lays dormant awaiting their master, the King. There was already a war between elves and humans thousands of years ago, and the elves with its help slaughtered all humans in its path. The Golden Army cannot be awakened."
She watched the elf locked like a psychopath through the glass. Everything about him emanated pride, honor and dignity even before such desolated panorama. Huge scars marked his arms and chest. Chiseled muscles, concentrated gaze into nothingness, stone-tight fists, the strength of his unalterable features. And however during the time Loreto was in that room, she felt the certainty there was something, a key piece of information, she didn't know. What was this place but a paranormal version of Guantanamo prison? Even the most abhorrent criminal deserves a just trial. Having agreed to assist in the operation to capture him like a bait to attract him to the theater had been a huge mistake. She had to listen to him; she had to know why he did what he did, what was he pursuing, what was at stake. Something in his aura shattered her with fear but, on the other hand, she didn't have much to lose. Unaware of the fact, Loreto had lived with a stomach cancer for who knows how long. Death surrounded her, either as a terminal disease, the prisoner monsters of this place or the rage of an elven prince enemy of humanity. If there was one thing made clear repeatedly in history is that, in the same person the terrorist for some and the freedom fighter for others may hide. The only one fighter, the pioneer, the leader of the battalion, the last one who falls with his folk. The last warrior.
Agent Sapien invited her to leave that place. With no words, he tried to let her know she shouldn't be there. Loreto obeyed, but before doing so she studied the big control panel and tried to memorize it. This would not be the last time she'd visit that room.