SHADOW OF THE DEVIL

Havana 1991, Cuba

That night, I think I had had too much to drink, after eleven o'clock on that summer night, I thought when my sister's husband Kenny served us another round of beer bottles, most of us went to our respective homes, the rest One of my friends continued the party at La Gruta, it was a very popular nightclub here in Havana. For a moment nobody said anything; all you could hear was music and the popping of billiard balls and, from outside, the soft moan of the wind. However, it was quite cool there at the 8 Ball Snack Bar. I remember that that night Ángel Martín was sitting to my left, and to my right Dahlía Mijangos, my sister, who once told us a horrifying story about a woman who had given birth under strange circumstances in the hospital where we all worked. After her was Lucía Velasco, owner of the Bar and my best friend, who thanks to her madness we were able to celebrate Angel's birthday there. Ismael Álvarez, my sister's father-in-law, came to pick us up in his old red Chevrolet from '70. We arrived at my house and I said goodbye to everyone wishing them a good night. He lived two blocks from my sister's house, with my daughter and my dog ​​named "Tango". That night I couldn't meet my obligations as a mother, so I kindly asked my niece María Belén to take care of my two-year-old daughter Isabel. She took care of my daughter, whenever she asked. My niece received her pay, faithfully deserved, when she got home. She was always ready to help me, she covered me when she came back from the institute, in the afternoons, while I was working in the hospital. I was only twenty-two years old when my fiancé Daniel, after telling me that he would marry me, left me for another woman. He never knew that she was pregnant, and he never knew about Isabel. Like I never knew my father, since he abandoned us before I was born. And paradoxes of fate my worst fears were repeated with me, just like my mother. But that didn't stop her from working hard and getting me out on her own. My mother had died of cancer a few months before my daughter was born. She still had a long life ahead of her, despite her being middle-aged. I decided to move to another house in San Miguel del Patrón, Havana, very close to where my sister lived, we were always very close. In addition, the place was perfect, it was a few kilometers from the pediatric hospital, where we both work.

Every morning early I would go out for a walk with my bicycle, it is one of my favorite hobbies. My mother was a very protective woman, and she always wanted the best for me. She got very nervous when I was about to go out for my morning bike rides, near Jaimanitas beach. I still remember the famous phrase she used to say to me when she heard the door from the street and saw me go out: "Be careful Anastasia and don't stray too far." ‒Typical phrase of a mother worried that the irresponsible acts of her young daughter, hers, could cause problems‒. But I didn't understand her until I had Isabel, so that phrase made sense to me. I loved disobeying her in a certain way, although I do not justify myself with it, but I enjoyed discovering new places that she had never been. Now I realize that it was something dangerous but I have always considered myself a person who likes to take risks. Almost always when I went out with the bicycle, my dog ​​"Tango" accompanied me, a beautiful Argentine dogo with an unmistakable white and short coat, which protected me from certain characters that roamed the streets. My mother gave it to me when I was nine years old. His rough and serene appearance helped me disperse certain undesirable people from my path who at one point would have gotten me into trouble. This breed of prey is characterized by being large specimens, its appearance is robust and firm. "Tango" also had a characteristic blotch on its muzzle, which was what made me fall in love with it as soon as I saw it inside the box. At that time my grandfather, may he rest in peace, once told me «Never work against nature, earn his trust and respect and you will earn his loyalty.» "Tango" is my best friend and despite his ailments so typical of his age, he still follows me everywhere. I loved going to the beach to see the sunsets over the sea, many times I dreamed in a daze contemplating the different colors that the sun acquired when it set on the horizon. Now I do it too, but with more nostalgia that I rescue from my past.

I still think of those happy years, in which I had no worries, no responsibilities and I spent endless hours on the beach, thinking about my things. I remember the brightly colored galleys that used to leave the port for distant regions where the sea meets the sky. My friend Ángel's birthday party was very timely, this week I did a lot of overtime and the party helped me relax from the accumulated stress. I love my job and I don't complain about it but sometimes it is exhausting. My grandfather was a very important person in my life. He taught me to value the little things in life. Towards allusions to old stories from his military period in the army, sitting in his favorite high-backed armchair with ears, while he lit his pipe. Where the smoke enveloped his wrinkled face in a bluish cloud, I remember him putting out the wooden match with the slow, theatrical gesture of the man whose joints caused him great pain. He had a rare hobby, or hobby, whatever you want to call it and it was collecting the strangest objects you can imagine from his time in the army, "the prosperous age" of the 1950s, as he defined it. He traveled a lot as a young man, Africa, Japan, North Korea, Europe. He got many "relics" as he used to name all the articles and objects of a ceremonial or religious type from different cultures around the world, that he was collecting. Many times I wonder why I still keep the shrunken, African heads that my grandfather collected and that my mother so jealously kept for home decoration, just to name some of the strangest items that my grandfather collected. I guess I got used to seeing them when I was little, ha! my sister was always scared. She should have seen what I threw away last month from Grandpa's old chest.

One day I found two German sabers from the Second World War in the old chest. He had a large number of articles from that time, such as machetes, swords, badges and medals of different military ranks, from almost all the armies that participated in these wars, even an old military suit of the German army from 1939. He also collected different African masks, Jamaican tribes and many others from different parts of the world. Some of those masks did cause me a certain fear or caused me some kind of bad energy, but in spite of everything I still keep them somehow they make me feel that I am closer to him, besides my grandfather would not like me to get rid of all these things. I focus all my will and my energy on closing my eyes, while those masks look at me with his impassive face, while I stare at them for a long time. The next morning I woke up around ten in the morning. It was Saturday and I just wanted to spend the most wonderful day with my daughter Isabel and rest as much as possible. This Sunday my little girl will be two years old and I was really excited about it. We were going to give him the best possible party, it was not going to be a flashy party or anything like that, it would just be a small family dinner.

Tonight I had a strange nightmare, it must have been the large amount of alcohol we drank the night before, although I don't remember drinking that much. I dreamed that I was lying on a stretcher table in the autopsy room and a man was speaking into a microphone while he was cutting the skin on my chest with a scalpel. This guy seemed to enjoy and in all likelihood delighted to be able to use his gym muscles and his great skills with his sharp instruments. But I felt cold cutting steel piercing my icy skin, with the sharp blade of the scalpel. It pierced my inert skin like a snake bite. I remained motionless but fully aware of what was happening around me, staring at the fluorescent lights. He opened my mouth and parted my lips, he examined my teeth like someone who wants to buy a horse, he lowered my jaw and I heard his voice say: «It has a good color,» he observes, and without petechiae on the rosy cheeks, I like this specimen, "he said with a smile. The guy took a step back, out of my field of vision. There was a buzzing sound. The table started to tilt and I know why. By causing the cuts, the fluids will descend until they flow into the collection points on the base. Without realizing I was alive, that guy kept cutting the skin off my chest with a slight smile on his face while watching a game of golf on a television. At that moment I woke up with a start when my dog ​​"tango" retired, pulling the sheets off the bed with his mouth. Which caused me to wake up with a start. They say that each dream has a meaning, but I can't identify what that dream meant to me, but for me that was just superstition from the past and a bad memory that I prefer to forget.

For my part I was going to shower and enjoy a fantastic Saturday. I got ready to go downtown to buy the last preparations and some more food for tomorrow's party. I never stop to think too much about how maybe I cook more food than necessary, but it is a natural, unconscious urge that I think there will never be enough food for everyone. Today the sun is translucent in color, it was hot, but not too hot for April, the breeze blows softly scented by the floral fragrances of early spring. It was one of those long shopping days, I'm glad to have such a good girl the best. She never whimpered, threw tantrums, or protested anything. From what my mother told me, I wasn't that good in that sense. I can't help but smile when I remember when she said it to me. It was already dark when Anastasia and her daughter left the center after spending several hours buying decoration items and food for the party. When death itself appeared suddenly and gesturing before the little girl, they were neither the worst thoughts nor the worst more dreadful nightmares that disturbed Anastasia. She was just an old gypsy woman with shaggy gray hair, an extremely pale face, and gray eyes a shade similar to dirty ice.

When Anastasia and little Isabel were just leaving the Walmart Supercentre Store, it would be ten minutes to eight. The moon was shining high in a starry black sky, bright headlights glinting off chrome car windshields from one end of the spacious parking lot to the other. His Ford Falcon was parked in seventh place on the line. As they approached him, the old gypsy woman appeared in front of them. She crossed their path out of nowhere, as if she had been hiding waiting for them between the Ford Falcon and a beige Volkswagen van. At first, the old woman did not give the impression of being threatening, she looked somewhat strange, no doubt, but nothing more. Her long gray hair seemed to be ruffled by the wind, even though she did not blow even a brief breeze. «At first glance it gave me the impression that that old woman was about seventy or seventy-five years old, her face had certain wrinkles and she had some warts, on the wing of her nose, quite pronounced, similar to the witches in the stories children. " she had the abnormal swelling that is often attributed to cortisone injections or due to strange genetic traits. Her nose was pronounced and pointed, her mouth was small, and her chin was set back. She wore some old black clothes, a necklace of black and green quartz stones. "In my opinion she was only missing a broom." She was of gypsy or Indian ethnicity. The old woman looked permanently at Isabel, smiled and said:

‒Good heavens, you are a very pretty girl!

Anastasia smiled broadly. These spontaneous compliments were nothing new to Isabel. With her blonde hair, pale sky blue eyes and an angel face, she was a truly beautiful girl.

‒Tell her, my name is Isabel," said Anastasia, responding kindly to the old woman, directing her gaze to her daughter, Isabel. Not knowing how to speak yet.

‒Certainly a very appropriate name for a creature as special as her," the old woman replied, without taking her eyes off her for a moment.

I took a closer look at the stranger and something in her caused me to distrust and rectify a premature impression of the supposed kindness of that tender grandmother. There was something that puzzled me, there was something in her look that told me that she was not there just to say hello. Her stockings came up to her knee and on her right a long run, her clothes were old and wrinkled, she had grease stains on her blouse and her hands were dirty with soot or something similar. And also a foul smell from not having showered in months. She was the kind of person that children should never accept candy, not on holidays like Halloween night.

‒And how old are you heart? The old woman asked.

‒She only has two I said

‒Wow! She will have a promising future, I know, I have seen it... At that moment I was confused and showed the desire to hurry to the car, but I did not hesitate and without showing signs of discourtesy, I continued walking slowly, implying that we were in a hurry.

The old woman said:

‒Tomorrow is your birthday, isn't it? The old woman asked, causing Anastasia's nervousness, when the gypsy guessed the birthday of her daughter.

‒How do you know it's her birthday? Who are you? She asked surprised.

‒I know everything young lady..." the old woman stated. The old woman raised her head and looked at Anastasia's fearful face.

Anastasia smiled shyly but she was serious when she saw the eyes of the old stranger. Her gaze rebelled from her abysmal emptiness, the harsh and wrathful fierceness of a wild beast, not those of a harmless rogue grandmother. The old woman suddenly stopped smiling and looked at the girl.

‒Your daughter is marked by the sacred king of penance said the old woman with a hard voice.

–What's going on here? –She is completely crazy, let me pass, please. ‒Anastasia continued without understanding at all what was happening, she continued walking towards her car.

The old woman followed her dragging her left foot, watching them with her pupilless eyes. And she continued saying:

‒Your daughter was born on the night of Walpurgis, they will wake up again from the plagues and the horizon will burn.

Anastasia walked faster and faster toward her car, not understanding a single word of what that crazy old woman was saying.

‒Your daughter was born that day, wasn't she? The old woman asked again with such impetus that she splashed Anastasia with saliva, when she stopped in front of her car.

‒Leave us alone! Without waiting for an answer she opened the car door.

The old woman continued her speech.

‒You try to hide it but I know it, your daughter is cursed by the biblical mark. Don't lie to me, you can't lie to me, because I've seen it, you can't fool me. The old woman affirmed totally enraged, with slight deviations of anger against the girl. Suddenly the old woman seemed dangerous.

As Anastasia was about to take her daughter into her arms, she pushed the old woman toward her car. But cleverly the old woman stepped sideways and blocked their way. She pointed her index finger at the girl, making a strange movement with her hand, as if drawing something in the air. And giving them a withering look, she repeated some intelligible phrases or in another foreign language that she did not understand and then she spluttered:

‒I know who your daughter is, I know who she is! But this time she will not escape. I can savor the scent of her by candlelight, now I have her in my possession. Her porcelain legs traced and tied to her lair. The taste of her appeases the beast in splattered sheets, ‒she exclaimed violently.

‒Get out of my way, you crazy bitch or I'll call the police.‒Anastasia affirmed forcefully, forcing the old woman to get out of her car. With a puzzled air, the old woman stepped away from the vehicle, giving her the necessary space for Anastasia to properly accommodate her daughter's chair in the back seat of the car.

‒You're lucky I didn't bring my dog, you crazy old woman." She said with a trembling voice.

‒Now I know, my God, now I know. –said the old woman with a laugh.

Witch, you sick fucking lunatic, Anastasia thought, feeling her stomach lurch. The girl began to cry as if she realized the nervousness that her mother suffered.

‒We are leaving my love, do not worry, everything is fine. She ‒ she said to her baby, as she started the car in first gear as fast as possible and headed it towards the main road. She glanced out of the window and the rear-view mirror but the old woman was no longer there, she had disappeared, which surprised him, but she still continued the splashed saliva of her on the glass.

April 30, The next morning, upon waking up, Anastasia went to her daughter Isabel's room, fearing that that woman would return home, to finish whatever her purpose might be. When she entered her daughter's room, she observed that her eyes seemed bluer and brighter than usual; they met his family and gave him a glimpse of uneasiness, a mother knows that.

She that last night she could not fall asleep from her because of the untimely vision that the mere thought of having an unwanted visit that same night exerted. Those thoughts that she had all day generated the numerous nightmares that did not let her sleep peacefully. She was suggesting herself very quickly, since they would never see her again anyway, she was nothing more than a poor destitute old woman. She knew she was freaking out unnecessarily, but she kept thinking about what she said to him, what she said to her daughter. Just thinking that she had cursed them sounded stupid. But it sounded so real, a question crept into my mind so quickly that I didn't have time to seriously consider it: «What if he had cursed us? Ha! I think it is stupid to even think about it, but sometimes it is also true that we allow ourselves to be carried away by our prejudices and by our ignorance on the subject, we always think that they are nonsense and absurd superstitions but if I were a witch I mean a real witch and what did he mean by walpurgis? I better stop thinking about it or I'll go completely crazy. Also, today is my daughter's birthday and I have to prepare everything for the party this afternoon.»

When she was making breakfast, Anastasia stood by the window for a few minutes in case that old woman decided to come back. It was inevitable for her to worry about the safety of her little daughter. The maternal instinct is far superior to any fear we may experience in life. He was vigilant all the time, you can never predict what an unstable mind will do, like that old woman's. She didn't want her daughter to feel nervous, so she tried to change her mood and she didn't let what happened in her parking lot affect her. «It is very difficult with a little girl because they absorb everything like a sponge. But the truth is that that strange old woman pushed me to the limit, I rarely lose control like that.» But every noise in the street, every barking of some stray dog ​​triggered the alerts in her unconscious. The slightest movement alerted Anastasia and made her go out of her way. That same morning, her niece María Belén came to visit them and to stay with the girl while she took the dog out for a walk. Everything was going well until little Isabel began to do strange things, things that she was not used to doing, such as when she played with her cousin María Belén she stayed absent looking at a part of the wall, without any obvious stimulus to distract her. So she would spend hours staring at nothing, without her cousin María Belén doing anything to distract her. She didn't understand that she was happening to her little cousin of hers.

BIRTHDAY PARTY

7:32 p.m. The guests were in the living room enjoying a pleasant family chat, when Anastasia excused herself for a moment and went to the kitchen. She opened the lower cupboard doors, took out a bottle of Cardhu Gold Reserve and a glass, set them on the marble counter, and poured in the whiskey until it was full.

When she was closing the bottle, she took a casual glance out the window and she stiffened. A beige Volkswagen van was parked across the street, spotlessly clean and shiny, with no advertisements and advertisements. Peering over the glass, Anastasia saw the figure of a man dressed entirely in black and leaned against the side of the van.

Certain people have been given the Gift of discovering God's enemies as soon as they see them. He was one of those people, he had the ability to instantly recognize a corrupted soul with no apparent remission. Just looking at her interlocutor for a fraction of a second was usually all that man in black needed to know if this or that person could be evil and possess ungodly thoughts or could be redeemed, and saved. That strange kind of black had the Don. He perceived in her the fear that her presence caused him, the more he read it in her eyes, each feeling of fear that it provoked in every particle of her body. No one could hide from his watchful gaze.

The subject of Gothic appearance and refined style, seemed to be waiting for someone, apparently by his calm way of holding the cigarette that he had between his fingers, at the same time he gave the impression of being on a stalking mission or something similar, deducing from his body language. For no apparent reason Anastasia, hypnotized by his presence, seemed to gradually lose the strength of the hand that was holding the glass of whiskey, it rushed to the floor, drawing the attention of the guests who entered the kitchen alarmed by the noise of the glass breaking into a thousand pieces. Immediately her sister Dahlia entered the kitchen and looked at her sister, who was dumbfounded looking out the window.

–What happen? Are you okay? She asked her sister Anastasia, that at that moment she was like absent looking into space. ‒Anastasia?

Dahlia stood next to her sister and watched with her that guy dressed in black.

‒Anastasia? Who is he? Do you know him? She ‒she asked without getting an answer.

This guy seemed to exercise a strange control of her mind as they both observed each other in their respective places. Dahlia had to snap her fingers in front of her sister to make her react to the stimulus.

‒Are you okay? Do you know that guy? Dahlia asked again.

‒Yes… no, she had never seen him, but… well, let's go back to the party. ‒Anastasia said nervously, when she was about to pick up the broken pieces of the glass,

Her sister Dahlia hers, fearing that she was going to cut herself with the crystals, said:

‒No, no, I already do it, you go to the living room with the guests, I'll pick it up. She ‒ she advised him.

Anastasia came out of the kitchen, while her sister Dahlia picked up the broken glass from the floor. As she stood up and looked out the window again, the guy in black was no longer there. That guy had simply disappeared, she Dahlia did not give it much importance and she left the kitchen to continue the party.

3:30 a.m. That same night the party ended very late and they left everything without picking up. The desperate barks of "Tango" seemed to be accentuated in the silence of the night. There were remains of cake and different souvenirs left over from the celebration on the table, glasses and garlands were thrown everywhere, everywhere. The boxes and papers where the gifts were wrapped were thrown on the floor. Several of the guests were asleep, lying on the lounge chairs and sofas, even on the floor, still holding their respective drinks and soft drinks in their hands. One of the guests had a mouth full of half-chewed cake, you could see how the mixture of salivary fluid and small pieces of chewed cake came out of his mouth between open. What had happened there? Because the forms and postures in which they had apparently fallen asleep were not the natural and most appropriate ways in which people consciously take a nap or as commonly by what we know as falling asleep?

No one falls asleep with a piece of cake in their mouth, without chewing. Virtually all were apparently "asleep", each adopting different postures; let's say unusual to rest. Anastasia was holding a glass of soda in her hand, which she was holding hanging over the back of the overturned armchair, where she was lying. Candlelights flickered in the gentle breeze that blew through the open windows. Little Isabel was in the crib in her room, she was the only one in the family who stayed awake and it seemed that she was playing with some invisible being, that only she could see.

Hearing the dog's incessant barking, a neighbor approached the ranch. He was none other than Mr. Otto von Papen, he was an emigrant, who during the Second World War emigrated to the islands with his family, fleeing the misery that plagued Europe. He was highly respected by the community.

Large windows of the dining room, kitchen, and living room lined the length of the building, leading to sliding doors. Mr. Otto von Papen tried to open them knowing that he would find them locked. So it was. He tried to access the other side of the garden, where the windows were, lower, where he could better locate what was happening inside the house. Tango, the Mijangos family mascot, when recognizing Mr. Otto calmed down almost immediately and the two greeted each other affectionately.

‒Good boy, good boy Tango... What's wrong with you tonight boy? He asked as he greeted his canine friend.

In the most absolute silence, the insistent barking of the dog was what attracted the most attention, which woke up old Otto and several neighbors in the area. Whatever had happened inside the house, Mr. Otto was willing to get to the bottom of the whole thing. He untied the dog from the chain, which was holding the dog by the collar and they both walked to the windows.

Among the many sounds produced by the wind, he thought he heard another sinister, slimy and slippery that came from inside the house, and felt his spinal cord suddenly freeze. Before entering the house he made sure that the flashlight, which he carried with him, was working properly. Otto arranged a garden bench and was able to access, easily through one of the open windows, inside the house. "Tango" he also entered the house leaping nimbly, running through the living room, heading towards the girl's room, as if he sensed that she was in danger. Old Otto was impressed by shining the flashlight on the disturbing scene he saw in the living room, all the people lying on the floor in those twisted and strange postures. At once he could feel the air rare and heavy, as if something evil was occupying the place. Without knowing exactly how to act in such a situation, he approached when he recognized his neighbor, friend and owner of the house Anastasia. She quickly took her heart rate by grabbing her hand and with both fingers of her hand placed on her wrist, she was able to determine that her heart was beating smoothly. Anastasia was still breathing, she was just unconscious, and her vital signs were functioning normally. He checked the pulse of some people who were in the same situation there and all had the same vital symptoms. So he decided to follow "Tango" upstairs, but as he walked down the hall he heard a whimper from the dog and then a noise as if he had collapsed on the floor. Scared, he walked cautiously and very slowly, not making the slightest noise possible, as he climbed the stairs to the rooms above. It was very dark so he flipped the switch to illuminate the upper floor, when he got to the upper floor he saw the dog lying on the ground. Regretful that he hadn't brought his shotgun, he cautiously walked over to the dog. He had the sudden idea that something huge and abominable was lurking inside those rooms, spying on him, waiting for the right moment to pounce on him. But the truth was that nothing out of the ordinary was manifesting. After taking care of the dog and checking that he was okay, he was only lying on the floor in an apparent unconsciousness, like the other people in the room, he prepared to enter the girl's room.

And when he was turning the door handle, the jaws of "Tango" totally out of his mind and his eyes bloodshot, he gripped old Otto's arm tightly. He held his arm between his jaws, ripping flesh with the force of his jaws. The old dog pulled down, old Otto desperately tried to get away from the dog but without success, it is known to all that a dog of these characteristics never lets go of its prey until it has finished with it or has immobilized it. "Tango" was possessed by some evil force, otherwise it would never attack any human and less being friends. He was definitely driven by some uncontrollable force that was dominating, at that moment his acts. The dog bled from his eyes as he tightened his grip on old Otto's bloody arm. When he couldn't resist anymore, he fell to the ground and the dog lunged at the old man's neck, tearing his neck, killing him.

Neighbors alerted by the scandal at that time of night called the police who immediately went to the Mijangos' house. As soon as they arrived and entered the house, the police officers had no choice but to end the life of the dog "Tango" by shooting him several shots in the head. The Mijangos family and their friends were transferred, affected by whatever happened to them, to the hospital where they spent a few days under observation until their recovery. In the same way, the judge raised the record so that they could transfer the corpse of the poor old man.

A few days after being admitted, Anastasia returned to her house. She was devastated by the loss of her dog and that of Mr. Otto, whom she held in high esteem. It had been a few days of all this, but she still had no recollection of what had happened to them at her birthday party. "What world do we live in if any innocent person is a candidate for martyrdom?"

Her fear was born from the certainty that they were soon to become the next victims.

Meanwhile, Anastasia watched her daughter rest peacefully in the crib. Outside, she looking in the backyard she remembered the good times that she spent with her good friend "Tango", who suffered the onslaught of a death wind. She didn't deserve to end her life in such a cruel way.

The beige Volkswagen van was no longer parked in front of the house. When she thought that everything was over, one night Anastasia arriving home, after working she thought she saw three points of light on the roof, as if they were balls of fire, but she did not give it more importance and thought that it would be a simple Reflection in the glass, but given everything that had happened after the party, anything was possible. As the days went by and always at the same time that she came home from work, she saw those balls of light on the roof. Every time she happened Isabel she began to cry intensely and strange noises were heard inside the house at any time, both day and night. She decided to tell her niece, who was the person who took care of her and with whom her daughter spent most of the day. Anastasia spoke with her niece about the phenomena that were happening and the strange noises that were taking place inside her in her house.

‒María Belén, do you believe in witchcraft? He asked her niece, thinking her niece would laugh at her. But what was her surprise that she didn't change her gesture.

‒I didn't know how to tell you Aunt Anastasia, but strange things are happening since the party, and especially with Isabel. I was afraid you wouldn't believe me, that's why I didn't tell you before. Maria Belén said.

"Oh, thank god, I thought she was driving me crazy." You have also noticed that strange things are happening in the house, right? Anastasia affirmed.

‒Yes Auntie, I have noticed that Isabel cries a lot and is even sometimes shown doing very strange things, as if she was interacting with someone on the walls, but I am only with her.

‒And did she see the fireballs on the roof? Anastasia asked.

‒No, but also, the other day I saw a chair move by itself in the kitchen. Maria Belén said.

Hearing those words from her niece, Anastasia was very scared. She did not believe much in those paranormal things but since it was her daughter she would do everything necessary to help, whatever was harming her daughter.

‒Tía, I have heard from the elders of the town that there are spirits that want to take the babies.

At that precise moment Anastasia inevitably remembered the old woman from the parking lot again. She had no proof but she was almost certain that she was dealing with that old hag.

-What can we do? She ‒ she asked with a lump in her throat.

Her niece María Belén told her about an old man who practiced white healing magic and spiritual cleansing, a kind of Shaman. He is a hermit who lives in the mountains, on the outskirts of the city. Anastasia decided to wait and see what would happen for a few days, believing that her daughter would get better.

In those days strange news of disappearances of babies appeared in the newspapers, all over the country. On the television news they warned that doors and windows were closed at night. He had a hunch that this old witch would be responsible for those disappearances, there was no doubt. A couple of days passed from the conversation between Anastasia and her niece, until little bruises began to appear in the arms of little Isabel. Her niece swore she did not know how those bruises had come out in the arms of little Isabel. It was impossible that she had produced them, because she would never hurt her dear little cousin of hers. So who had done them? or as? Every day she got a new cardinal, and they did not explain how or who. The girl cried for hours for no apparent reason. The situation worsened when the girl began to move her eyes strangely and show the first symptoms of autism, but she Anastasia did not believe that it was that disease. So finally Anastasia decided to contact the occult expert, who had been recommended by her niece. One early morning he took the car towards the mountains, which were on the outskirts of the city, after driving for hours he met with the old man, the priest named Gumaro Betancourt, he was an old priest, a practitioner of the Santera religion, Lucumí cult or Orisha, is a cult typical of Afro-Cubans, whose ancestors were enslaved during the colonial era. The priest Betancourt lived on the highest mountain, in Hill de San Pedro, Havana. It is said that one day, early, while walking, he saw a woman bathing in the lake, he, seduced by her beauty, approached her, but this was a lamia and it enchanted him, leaving him blind, so that he could not see her stylized naked body anymore. This was a humid, lonely and cold place, a rather hostile place where the temperatures dropped extremely when the sun went down. Anastasia spent the night at the priest's house. He took the opportunity to tell her about all that he had to learn to correctly initiate the ritual of spiritual cleansing and save the soul of her daughter. Around a bonfire the old man told her many of the stories that he himself had lived during all these years helping hundreds of people who at some point in their lives had the need to request her knowledge. She listened attentively to everything the old man told her, even writing down the highlights of her experiences and stories in a small notebook. They spoke at length about the situation that was afflicting her family. He confirmed her suspicions, they were dark energies that fed on innocent souls. Anastasia told him about the harpy that haunted her mind, and when she first met her in a parking lot not too long ago.

The Priest advised her to pray the twelve truths prayer while knotting a red thread on one of her fingers, encircling a circle of prepared salt. It was an ancient ritual used by the ancient shamans of the islands to drive away evil spirits.

THE PRAYER OF THE TWELVE TRUTHS

The next morning she said goodbye to the old man and drove back to her home. After driving all day I get home.

That same night I prepare everything to start the ritual, somehow those energies that invaded the house began to emit strange screams, loud knocks and causing doors and windows to slam. But she continued with the cleansing ritual, I wait until a certain hour of the night, to continue with the ritual at a precise time, after three o'clock, as the Priest indicated. All the members of her family joined her hands and began to pray those words from an old parchment, which the old man gave him and that only the magicians knew. Anastasia had a red thread knotted on her index finger. Everyone was around a large circle of "prepared" salt, previously lit by numerous candles placed throughout the room. All the people gathered there, in unison began the magic invocation, singing the prayer, which caused three balls of fire to be projected from the center of the circle of salt that rose to the height of their heads. Those fireballs circled their axis several times before disappearing.

They all stared at each other, not knowing exactly what was happening, that septic prayer was stirring up the bad energies. The next day little Isabel seemed to be better, those painful bruises were disappearing from her skin.

A short time later, hideous growls began to be heard, frightening Anastasia; the spirits were still there, and they were furious. So that same night she decided to repeat the same ritual. The furniture began to move by itself and loud knocks began to be heard on the walls, as if the house was going to collapse. They were all very nervous holding hands, not letting go, but scared to death. The girl, on the other hand, did not stop laughing, with a diabolical laugh, as if she were talking about someone doubling her angelic voice, to a more serious and evil tone. That night the girl began to contort her body in ways that were impossible for a human being. Her neck flipped 380 degrees, until she was positioned with her eyes practically on the nape. They all heard those savage growls again, but saw nothing. She set the circle of salt ablaze bluish and erect, like the forked tongue of a viper. And suddenly in the middle of the circle the silhouette of a woman was drawn falling from the ceiling. That figure writhed in pain, as if she were burning in hell and her horrible wails were heard, so high that they seemed to pierce the eardrums of any mortal. Just when they finished the sentence the silhouette disappeared and with it the blows and grunts. They all breathed a sigh of relief but deep down, they all thought that as long as Isabel is little that condemned soul could return at any moment.