Chapter I
Real
The girl kept on running down the slope, her bare feet burning against the dirt and loose rocks. She couldn't see much: the faint moonlight revealed nothing but dark shapes and irregular shadows that made her constantly wonder if she was going in circles, if she was heading straight to a cliff, if they were lurking around the next bend, ready to capture her and then, it would all be over.
The air that struggled to reach her lungs was hot and stuffy.
She kept running.
The ground became straighter all of a sudden, though just as bumpy. She let go of her skirt, which she'd been holding not to step on the hem, and tried her hardest to find a point of reference or a hiding place, anything that would serve as a guide. There was nothing except for darkness and her own breathing, the void in her stomach yanking at her and the faraway chirping of some nocturnal animal and, above all, a compact dough made out of fear that crushed her chest and brain all at once. It was heavy, it wouldn't let her think-
There was a noise or a wisp of air, maybe steps or the breaking of a twig. Whatever it was, it propelled her to take off at once, blindly, deeper into the night.
And just then, a huge, rabid monster cut the way, just like her terrors had taken a physical form and had jumped right out of her skull. It occupied all of her vision, all of the world, standing on its hind legs and just as black as everything else around.
"Señorita!" she heard a voice. Her mechanisms of reasoning finally hinted at the presence, not of a monster, but of a much more mundane animal. And its horseman: "Forgive me, are you alright?"
It wasn't a familiar voice. That was a good thing.
"Señorita? Are you lost?"
Despite the obscurity that engulfed it all, she could see the man lean forward, closer to her, and there, behind a black mask, his eyes:
"May help you in any way?"
Help…
If he could help.
"They're after me, help me get away, please."
"Who's after you?"
"Please help me."
What else was there to say? How could she explain?
"Are they trying to hurt you?"
"Please!" she cried, holding onto the saddle: "Por favor, get me out of here… please..."
He would leave. Why would anyone get into the kind of bizarre trouble a crazed looking girl in the middle of nowhere might bring? She should have kept on running, kept going until what was left of her strengths were all gone.
Another sound, this time further away, though quite clear.
The man heard it too. They were coming all right.
No more words were needed, only the terrified expression on her face was enough for him to extend his hand to her.
Help.
The texture of his gloves felt rough, yet his grip was gentle as he pulled her up the horse.
"Hold on" he said and she didn't have time to. Before she'd had the chance to take in the new circumstances, they were already on the way.
Where to?
As far away as possible.
The wilderness looked so different from this perspective; not like the scariest of abominable passages, but like a distant background that maybe was real and maybe not. No... it was all real, wasn't it? The previous hours or days, even. This was real too, being at the mercy of this stranger, she had to repeat it to herself several times since it seemed way too far fetched.
Real.
A mask. He's a thief.
Oh, Lord.
It's not real. None of this is real.
The weight of fear came back, this time accompanied by some numbing weakness. They had abandoned her, at last, the remnants of her will.
After all, maybe nothing was real at all.
(...)
There were pillows. White pillows, soft and cozy. Smooth sheets and a canopy with golden rims. The light of a lamp came from… somewhere over there, next to a chimney and…
She sat up at once. Besides the chimney, there were also two faces; not masked ones, so that was an improvement. One of them dragged a chair close to the bed and took a seat:
"Buenas noches. I'm Diego de la Vega. That is Bernardo, he found you at the doorstep. Would you like some hot tea?"
She nodded, and Bernardo approached with a steaming cup of infusion.
Diego waited for her to take a sip or two, then asked his next question:
"What's your name?"
The liquid was transparent red and had a faint taste of berries and something sweet.
"You wouldn't have something to eat, would you?"
At a gesture of the pratrón, the servant came forward once again, this time with a small dish containing bread with marmalade and cheese.
"Gracias. And sorry for… the inconvenience."
"Not at all. I would merely like to know what your name is. And if there's anything I can do for you, any relative I could contact. You're not from Los Angeles, are you?"
The food was good. Then again, even an edible rock would have tasted good at that point. She tried her hardest not to lock eyes with him, to focus on the meal; it wasn't an easy task. His stare was on her, she knew it; and strangely enough, it wasn't uncomfortable. It was sincere, kind, it was… safe.
The plate was empty in less than three minutes.
"Gracias."
"Would you like some more?"
She did, but: "No, it's fine."
"Now, will you talk to me?"
His clothes were of the elegant kind and so was the room. His room, it had to be.
"Please don't tell anyone else that you saw me."
"Why is that?"
"..."
"I cannot help if you don't tell me what's wrong."
"Please don't tell anyone. I'll go."
"Where will you go and at this hour?"
"I have… places to be."
She knew he wouldn't believe that. She'd only said it to say something.
"This is what we'll do" he announced, after studying her face another while: "You will sleep here, get some rest. And in the morning, you will tell me what this is all about. How about that?"
"Just don't tell anyone else I'm here. Will you? Please."
"You have my word. And Bernardo's, isn't that right?" He placed a finger over his lips, as a sign of secrecy. The servant nodded vehemently. "Good night."
When they were gone, that feeling came back: the one that wondered if their presence had been real or not. Well, this was: the comfy bed and the book on the nightstand, open on page 374. The relief in her stomach was real, too, and so was the certitude that he had said the truth, that he wouldn't tell anyone. That she was safer in this unknown place that she had been in ages.
(...)
Note: hi! Ok here I come with another story of mine. As usual, it's based mostly on Disney's Zorro. And I took the line "You wouldn't have something to eat, would you?" from the first X-Men movie (2000). I'm an X-Men fan too and that just crept into my brain. I'm not sure yet of the title of this story to be honest, but I decided for it after listening to the song and watching the video for "Shiver", by Natalie Imbruglia. Remember her? Thanks for reading!
