Friday, April 23, 1937.

1905 Hours.

Forest.

Not even the best company would have made the trip to the Renteria bridge go any faster.

Every step we took felt excruciating and long. An eternity passed between the centimeters it took one foot to get in front of the other. Neither dared speak to the other, not even if we wanted to.

I caught Lula trying to break the silence a few times, but every time she opened her mouth words failed to materialize. I do not know which thoughts were going through her head, but I know they weren't light. Her sister was missing, her boyfriend tried to take advantage of her, and her lack of sleep were heavy on her step.

The waiting was the worst part.

I couldn't bear to tell her the truth. Fatima, dead. Killed by a beast. She would've thunk me mad. Report me to my superiors to get unceremoniously shot by a firing squad. I think it's very telling to you, reader, that the first thing that came into my mind was how to save my own hide.

The waiting was the worst part.

I couldn't say anything. Even the smallest comment could've made me look suspicious, or worse. I could've lost Lula forever.

The waiting was the worst part.

How was I going to explain Tuerto's disappearance? The Lieutenant was going to grill me over this, and I was going to suffer from it. Me, and the rest of my squad. And Lula. Sweet Lula. Her heart would've split in two if she knew the truth.

Waiting for something to save me was the worst part.

No matter where I looked, I was alone. I could physically feel the rift forming between me and Lula as we moved forward. Only the scraping of our shoes against the ground broke the thick silence around us.

The town lay idle and moribund as people returned home. Children being scolded by their mothers, and grandparents having a last cigar before barricading their home for the night littered the way. Only kids, women and the elderly were afforded to remain in their homes. If you were a man, and able, you were supposed to fight for your country.

The definition of men in the Basque country as the war progressed became muddier and muddier. It wasn't hard to see teenagers with baby fat around their cheeks holding their rifles to dear life as they patrolled the streets. Fodder for the war. Waiting for death, like the whole town.

But not even that could distract me from the painful heartache of being so close, yet so far from Lula. Our relationship was tainted.

My life was tainted.

Death couldn't come any sooner.

Lula, Tuerto, Fatima, death. Lula, Tuerto, Fatima, Death. The events, names, and images repeated over and over and over inside my head. I can't put it into words, but I can put it in a feeling: a sucker punch to the guts.

I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't see anything. If it weren't for Lula pulling me along I would have stumbled right then and there and none would be the wiser. I wanted none of it, this nothingness.

And in the middle of it all was Father Jagger. His sunken eyes had seared a brand on me. Every time I blinked, there he was, judging me, sentencing me to die for a crime I didn't commit. He knew everything, but he was never going to talk. He couldn't. But Maximino would.

I began to think of ways to make him talk, but none were too effective unless I went in prepared and with company, but who would join me? Camarada would think me mad, and Torito would just ignore me.

Then, a thought crept up on me. A wicked, immoral thought.

Why not just ignore the whole deal? Let other people brave the monster. I didn't see a point to be a hero. Heroes die young, and I wasn't particularly keen on being a casualty of this war. That was the whole point of me being in that God-forsaken town: escape the war with some dignity. Not that it mattered. The war was coming to me.

I had a choice to make, one I wouldn't wish on anyone: try to be a hero and find the monster, or pass this cup of tribulations to better men seeking the glory.

You can call me a coward, but I chose the latter.

Destiny chose the former for me.

We arrived at the bridge after what felt like an eternity of shuffling feet and awkward silences. Torito was resting on an old crate while Camarada had his back to us as diligently observed the darkness before him. No moon out tonight.

"You know, Sebas," said Torito. "You have to warm up before the act, you know? Stretch those muscles. Pulling a muscle is a real amateur move."

"Oh, hush," said Lula with a rosy tint to her cheeks. "He sprained his ankle while searching for Fatima in the woods."

"Fatima is missing?" asked Camarada without taking his eyes from the horizon. "Maybe Tuerto grew some guts and asked her out. That would explain the two disappearing."

"Wait, Tuerto liked my sister?"

"Oh, sweet child," said Torito. "The summer of life calls on all of us."

"Sebas!" said Lula as he tugged my shirt, "you didn't tell me he had a crush on her!"

"Oh...yeah," I said, or a similar non-answer to that end. I couldn't concentrate.

The drumming sound was getting louder and louder by the second.

"Well," I said as I released Lula. "This is my stop. Go back to the bar; I'm sure Fatima will return shortly."

As if remembering her tiredness, Lula rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. "We will continue this conversation later, okay?"

She then stood on the tips of her toes, presenting her forehead to me. I felt happy knowing that at least she was still willing to give me that small sign of love. The rift between us felt a little bit shorter at that moment.

Short enough for me to realize the drumming had become so faint it was almost imperceptible.

"Hey, does anyone else hear singing?" asked Tuerto behind me.

And I did.

"...compreme usted este ramito..."

I opened my eyes, with my lips still on her forehead. There was a metallic white hand creeping out from under the bridge on an unlit area.

"I don't hear nothing," said Camarada who still watched over the horizon.

"It's like that song Tuerto was singing," said Torito.

"...pa' lucirlo en el ojal..."

"Yeah, that one," said Torito.

"I didn't say anything," said Camarada.

"...sus ojos alegres, su faz risueña..."

Another hand joined the other on the bridge. Their long nails dug on the asphalt for traction.

I couldn't move. I internally yelled at my legs to run, to no avail. They only wobbled in place.

"Sebas?" said Lula as she grabbed me by the waist. "Are you okay? You look pale."

"...lo que dice un tipo de madrileña..."

"Hey, what's that?" asked Torito behind me. 

I felt footsteps approaching us, fast. I wanted to tell him to run, but the words got caught in my throat. I could only wrap my arms around Lula as if my scrawny self could properly protect her. Idiot.

"...neta y castiza que si entorna los ojos..."

"Sebas," said Torito as he grabbed me by the shoulders. It made me take my eyes of those hands for a second. "You hear that, right? The singing is coming from over there."

My attention returned to where the hands were, only, they were missing. There was nothing there. The sound had stopped as well. It was gone.

Yet, why did I feel this immense pressure?

"Weird," said Torito. "Maybe Tuerto is messing with us. Remind me to punch him when I see him again."

None of us realized there was a huge beast standing next to us with its hand raised to strike us down. It only came to our attention when a bullet ricocheted from its metallic face. It gave us enough time to duck and dodge its swiping claw.

"Run!" yelled Camarada with his rifle pointed at the beast. He fired another shot, this time hitting it straight on the throat.

The beast screeched like nails on a chalkboard, walking backward on all fours into the darkness.

"What was that?!" yelled Torito. "What the fuck was that?"

"That was Tuerto," said Camarada. "It had one eye and was wearing his uniform. It couldn't be anyone else."

I must admit that even today, I admire his bravery. Camarada never wavered in his resolve, even against the unknown. What a fool. A fool that saved us.

"Is it gone?" asked Lula.

"...te cauteriza, te cauteriza..."

"No, it's still there," I said. "He's singing."

"I don't hear anything," said Lula.

"Me neither," said Camarada, running towards us as we huddled near a bonfire.

"I can," said Torito as he clutched his rifle.

I went to retrieve mine, only to realize that I had left it in the forest. Idiot.

There we were, four people, huddled with rifles pointing at the dark.

Then nothing. Silence. Unnatural silence. I couldn't even hear Lula breath beside me. Words came out of Torito's mouth, but I couldn't hear it. It was as if the world was at a standstill.

Without warning, Lula and I were pushed out of the way by Camarada. Immediately after that, a metallic hand came down swiping at where we were standing, now occupied by Camarada. He went flying through the air before plummeting against a group of boxes.

Torito ran to the side, firing three rounds at the beast. His aim was terrible, missing two out of three.

The beast wailed again as it ran on all fours towards him.

For the first time, my legs obeyed me, but they obeyed the most stupid command I could think of: rush the beast.

I only got a backhand for my troubles.

Something snapped inside me as I hit the ground. For what is worth, the beast did stop. It was now focused on me. Whatever snapped in me, it didn't allow me to stand up. I felt a sharp pain in my gut every time I tried. I was in hell.

The beast saw me with his only gleaming eye. The world shut down. I shut down.

"Surrender," It whispered into my mind as a wave of unending love filled my heart. There was no pain with the beast. There was no fear with the beast. The beast was everything. I wanted to be one with it. It was salvation. Redemption. The beast loved me for what I was.

But the bliss didn't last. Like a thunder in the dark, a bullet pierced through the haze, lodging straight in the monster's eye.

I've never heard such sound of agony before or after that. The whole world reverberated as blood came pouring out of my left ear. Even the air itself trembled to the might of the beast's screeching.

Another shot landed on the same spot, making the beast jump back ten meters in one go. I turned to see who made the shot. Standing in the middle of the bridge, holding Camarada's rifle, was Lula.

The rifle was still smoking when she placed a third shot where his eye used to be.

"Get the fuck away from here, you heathen beast!" she yelled. One more shot came out of her rifle, but the beast managed to dodge that one.

Torito stood next to her and began to shoot at it as well. It was soon besieged with fire. But not for long.

With inhuman strength, the beast jumped behind them, grabbing Camarada's unconscious body. It placed him in front of it like a human shield.

"Bastard!" yelled Torito. There was a standstill between the beast and the pair. None dared to move. Even the smallest movement would've unchained a series of catastrophic events.

"What happened?" asked Camarada as he began to wake up on the beast's arms.

The beast took the opportunity to jump out of the bridge and into the water while still having Camarada in its grasp.

This was far from over.