LuckyJJ
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CHAPTER 15: TRUST
🕑 Added 2025-02-17 18:12:32 +0000 UTCLicovi’s narration:
It’s been two days since we escaped from that thing. Two days since Mrs. Bertha sacrificed herself to save us from la Patasola, and now… she’s been lying there, motionless, her breathing faint and labored. The silence in the café is discomforting. This place looks so… dead. Without Mrs. Bertha’s voice, happiness, cheerfulness… her entire presence. I don’t know how could I continue without her.
Every time we’re facing a hard moment, Julio and I go to the little prairie where we used to play when we were children. He sits on the ground and I sit on his lap and together think how solving it. But this time is different. Julio tries to stay strong to give me support, but I know him pretty well. He is as scared as I am, if not more.
I’ve been sitting by Mrs. Bertha’s bedside, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. My hands rest on my lap, useless, trembling. I should be stronger, smarter, ready to take her place, but no matter how much I try to plan, I’m just not her.
Ofelia and Chía have tried to stay optimistic, but even their confidence have its limits. Every conversation about stopping La Patasola ends the same: with frustrated silence and a heavy sense of helplessness. How can we face her when we barely made it out alive last time? We are completely motionless, but time isn’t.
…
…
And now, two weeks have slipped by. Two weeks of sleepless nights and mounting dread. During that time, La Patasola hasn’t stopped. More Benefactors have fallen. Their blood keeps marking the same sinister message: “Death to the Benefactors.”
The town is unraveling. At first, some believed the supernatural rumors—that La Patasola was the responsible. But now, as the deaths pile up and the words repeat, suspicion turns toward to the Purists. The Benefactors are accusing them, and even some Purists have begun to distrust their own. It’s a witch hunt, and Mrs. Bertha isn’t here to speak reason or keep the peace.
Francisco is fueling the chaos, throwing people in jail for the slightest suspicions, while Antonio feeds the flames with speeches disguised as calls for unity. Their manipulations work. Fear grips Harmony Town, and the tension is suffocating. La Patasola isn’t just killing; her summoner is tearing this town apart. And we’re powerless to stop it.
Then, it happened. A huge crowd arrived to the café. Their voices were loud, angry, and relentless, drowning out my thoughts as I tried to keep my composure. They all wanted answers—demanded them, really. Some were Benefactors, accusing us outright of being murderers.
—You and your group are behind all this bloodshed! —one of them quarrels.
Others were Purists, their loyalty was fragile and slipping.
—If Mrs. Bertha doesn’t speak soon —a woman murmurs —, we may have no choice but to side with the Benefactors.
And then there are the rest, frightened townsfolk who just want a shred of comfort, some reassurance that everything isn’t falling apart.
They don’t know the truth. None of them do. They don’t know Bertha is lying upstairs in a coma, fighting for her life after protecting us from La Patasola. How could I tell them that? How could I admit that the woman they trust the most, might not wake up?
Julio stays by me, his frustration bubbles beneath the surface. He’s never been good at hiding it.
—Please, everyone —I try to speak above the chaos —. Don’t let the fear turn you against each other!
—All of you —Miss Chía steps in —, Old Bertha has always stood for this town. She’s done more for Harmony than any of you ever will.
—You know very well she would never dare to hurt you! —adds Ofelia.
For a moment, it feels like we were getting through to them. The tension eases just a little… until Julio opens his mouth.
—The real poison here are the Vela brothers! —he shouts with his voice trembling with anger — They’re the reason we’re tearing each other apart!
Like a curse, as soon as those words came out from his mouth, The Velas appear. Francisco’s expression is a mix of smugness and disdain as he steps forward.
—Inciting hatred against town officials, aren’t we? That’s a serious offense, Julio Montoya. Perhaps I should take you in for questioning… maybe even link you to these murders while I’m at it.
I grab Julio’s arm before he could say anything else.
—Don’t… please —I whisper.
Antonio raises a hand, and, with his tone calm, almost gentle, starts talking.
—Now, now, Francisco. Let’s not escalate things unnecessarily. We’re here to ensure order, not cause more division.
He turns to me with his eyes sharp despite his friendly smile.
—But, Mrs. Licovi, it is… troubling, this absence of Nanny Bertha’s voice. Surely, she could ease these tensions. Where is she?
I swallow hard, the weight of the question pressing down on me.
—She’s… unwell —I say carefully, forcing the words out —. At her age, the stress of everything has been too much for her.
—Convenient —mutters Francisco —. I want to see her. Now!
Antonio places a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
—Excuse me, Francisco, did I stutter?
—N-No, bro… I mean, Mr. Mayor!
—Good. Then let’s show some compassion. Mrs. Licovi, you have until tomorrow to bring Bertha forward. I’m sure she’ll want to address her people. Now, everyone, go home. Let these people rest. They’ve had enough for today.
The townsfolk begin to disperse, though their doubts and fears lingers in their eyes. As the door swings shut behind the Velas, I feel the weight of the day collapses onto my shoulders. Tomorrow… tomorrow would be the reckoning, and Mrs. Bertha still lays asleep.
We all sit in the café’s bar, lost in our thoughts, trying to figure out what to do next. Miss Chía and Ofelia are visibly shaken by everything that’s happened. Especially Miss Chía. She's usually extroverted and outspoken, but since we left La Patasola’s house, she's been quieter than usual. It's as though something's weighing on her mind.
—I keep hearing you and the rest talking about "Benefactors" here and "Purists" there, and I still don't understand what you mean. All I know is they seem to hate each other’s guts —Ofelia says —I would really appreciate it if you could tell me more about them.
—Sure, no problem. — replies Julio.
—I’m not interested — Miss Chía says, standing up from her chair —. Right now, that wraith is the only thing that concerns me. If we stop La Patasola, maybe the townspeople will stop trying to tear each other apart... I’ll be upstairs.
Miss Chía leaves.
—Lady Chía… —Ofelia calls after her pretty worried.
—Is she okay? — I ask, concerned.
—… I’ll talk to her later. Mr. Julio, please, continue. — Ofelia says, turning her attention back to Julio.
—Alright then...
Julio leans back slightly, preparing himself to explain the history.
It all began before the foundation of Harmony Town. This land was inhabited by people descended from Bachué and Sugunsua, and civilized by Bochica himself. Like most of the people from this land, they were deeply grateful to the gods. They prayed to them, followed their teachings, and lived in a prosperous and generous way for generations.
Then, one day, a new group of people arrived. They were foreigners, coming from distant lands. Despite their strange appearance, they were warmly welcomed by the locals. In return, they shared their knowledge and technology, which helped the land and its people flourish even more. The alliance between these two groups was sealed, and so, Harmony Town was born.
Over time, the descendants of these foreigners blended in with the locals and their physical differences gradually disappeared. But at some point, and despite looking the same, some of them began to believe they were superior to the people who had welcomed them. They thought their “advanced knowledge and beliefs” were the reason the town had prospered. They believed they deserved more recognition and benefits for their contributions. They started calling themselves the "Benefactors" of this town.
And despite some Harmonians agreeing with them, others felt that the town had lost touch with the old ways. They valued the traditions passed down by the gods and their connection to the land. While they were open to change, they also wanted to preserve the culture that had shaped them. These people became known as the "Purists".
For a while, despite their differences, the Harmonians lived in relative peace. But then, the Benefactors, led by the Vela family, seized control of the town. They became more ruthless, more corrupt, and more authoritarian. They imposed their beliefs on everyone, even claiming that the gods and supernatural creatures didn’t exist, despite the evidence from other regions.
This conflict and battle of believes have drown this town into many civil wars where uncountable lives have been taken. Our parents even were part of the casualties just for even suggesting certain political ideas. But, despite the fights, the Benefactors' control over Harmony Town has only grown. Anyone who doesn’t share their beliefs is seen as an enemy of the town. And the Purists are at the top of their list.
If it wasn’t for Mrs. Bertha, who raised the Vela brothers and holds so much influence over the town, the Purists would most likely have been wiped out by now. There’s some sort of truce between the groups now, but secretly, we’ve been trying for years to restore power their right owners.
—And that’s pretty much our history —continues Julio. —As you can see, Harmony Town’s name feels like a joke now, all thanks to the Benefactors. But despite everything, we’re still trying to regain control for the Purists.
—That’s not the point, Julio —I interrupt him. —We don’t want to give control back to the Purists. We want to return it to the people. No more factions. We just want unity.
Julio’s serious expression softens, and for a brief moment, that kind smile I love so much returns.
—You’re right, Licovi. I’m sorry.
—Can’t believe this town has such a dark story. —Says Ofelia.
—And it will get worst if we don’t do something.
I move closer to Julio, wrapping him in a hug and planting a kiss on his lips.
—As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine.
Julio doesn’t say anything, just hugs me tighter and kisses me back.
—Aww, so sweet! —says Ofelia, grinning.
—Wanna get distracted for 10 minutes? —Julio teases with a mischievous smile.
—You just read my mind.
—Let’s go to the room.
—It’s too far. Let’s do it here.
—Hey, I’m still here, you two!! —Ofelia dramatically waves her hands between us.
We all laugh, but that brief moment of happiness suddenly ends when someone knocks violently and the door.
—Julio Montoya, come outside at this very instant!! —It’s Francisco’s voice.
Julio puts me back and opens the door. Outside there is Francisco and some of his officers.
—What do you want, Francisco?
—You are under arrest.
—What?! Are you kidding me!
—You can’t do that! —Interferes Ofelia —The Mayor told you to leave them alone!
—Do not interfere with Harmony town business or I’ll get you arrested as well, miss!
—She’s right! —I yell —Are you questioning the Mayor’s orders?!
Francisco, filled with that fake smugness takes from his pocket a piece of paper signed by the Mayor Antonio Vela himself. It’s an arrest order.
—Not at all, Mrs. Licovi. Julio Montoya, you’re under arrest for the charge of murder of the Benefactors council.
—What?! —We all yell.
30 minutes ago, in Harmony town’s town hall…
Inside the luxurious meeting room, the Benefactors council, a group around 12 or 13 elders, sit around a long, polished wooden table. The air is tense and their voices overlapping in low murmurs as they discuss the unsettling string of murders. After more minutes of hushing, one of the benefactors slaps the table, asking for attention.
—Excuse me, everyone. I know we should had had this meeting a long time ago, but we had to wait to see how things were going. But after 2 weeks of uninterrupted slaughter, I’m not sure if this town can afford to lose any more people, even if they’re just…
— “Pawns” —another one finishes coldly —. Let’s not dance around it. Everyone here knows that those deaths so far don’t really matter. They’re just low-class benefactors… ugh! To think that they share our name makes me sick. But Carlos Robles? That’s another story. He was one of us—someone important. Wasn’t too extreme to kill him too?
—Exactly! —says a firm, calculating voice from across the table — Your killer must be reined in, Antonio. If those deaths are necessary, they must be restricted to those who can be sacrificed. No more of our own.
All eyes shift to Antonio Vela, seated at the head of the table. He’s calm, composed, his fingers interlocked as he listens to their concerns. He lets the conversation simmer before finally rising from his chair.
—Gentlemen, I appreciate your honesty and cooperation in this delicate matter —he begins in his usual measured tone, pacing slowly around the room, his gaze is settling on each leader in turn —Of course, Carlos Robles was part of this council, and his family, just like ours was one of the founders of Harmony town. Still, his way of thinking, as noble and laudable as it was, was far apart for what we are needing right now.
—Well, yeah. But killing him?
—Wasn’t that a little extreme?
—I wouldn’t say so —continues Antonio —. If our… “employer”, let’s say, just focus in taking care of our humblest followers, don’t you think they would start suspecting of us? Carlos’ sacrifice was something necessary… same as Ivan’s.
—What?!
All of the council gasp terrified. Antonio Vela just had confessed his own brother’s death was his responsibility as well. If they were afraid of Antonio’s ruthlessness before, now they are absolutely terrified. None of them dare to leave the room to avoid been Antonio’s “employer” next target. Antonio’s ignores everyone’s discomfort and continues.
—However, listening the way you refer to our followers, it saddens me to see how detached you’ve all become from those deaths. Necessary as they may be, they are not insignificant.
His voice deepens slightly as he continues.
—When we all accorded to sacrifice part of our followers, it was to blame the ill-thinking Purists and “warn” Harmony town about how dangerous they could be if they rise to power. Believe me, gentlemen, if there was a better way to do it, I wouldn’t have taken such a drastic decision. But when people stop fearing the ones who have been giving them a prosper life in order to follow populist ideals, then anarchy will surface, and we don’t want our beautiful town to be consumed by anarchy, do we?
—…No —everyone mumbles.
—Our purpose isn’t to simply eliminate the lower class and reign alone at the top. That would be a catastrophic error. The lower class is essential. They serve us; they sustain us. But more importantly, they must feel grateful for their place. They must look up to us as their protectors, their guides to a life of humility and dignity. We, the elite, do not merely rule. We educate. Iván didn’t see that. He just brought dishonor to our name and our cause by acting like a hormonal, spoiled teenager and Carlos, despite his noble heart, made the mistake of seeing everyone as equal… and still, that was the dead I actually regret the most. Because, as much different as we thought, at least Carlos had vision in know the importance of the lower class.
Antonio stops near the door. His silhouette looms large against the soft glow of the chandelier.
—I’m disappointed in your lack of foresight and inability to grasp the scope of our vision. You are a disgrace to carry that name of “Benefactors” —his voice lowers to a near-whisper —Think on that.
He opens the door and steps out, the quiet click of the latch echoing in the room. The leaders are left in silence, unease creeping into their expressions. The tension thickens as the hum of the overhead lights falters, and suddenly the room plunges into darkness.
A low, guttural growl shatters the stillness. The leaders exchange panicked glances.
—What… what was that? —someone whispers.
Before anyone can react, a monstrous figure emerges from the shadows—The Patasola. Her glowing eyes blaze with rage as she lunges forward. Screams fill the air, desperate and fleeting, as the creature claims each one of them in a gruesome, bloody massacre. While the sounds of screams, cracking bones and tearing flesh comes from the other room, Antonio approaches to Francisco, who was waiting for him.
—Here —he hands Francisco a document —Arrest Julio Montoya for the tragic murder of the Benefactor council. It’s a shame one of his goons killed him before arriving the station. Our “little friend” will help you with that.
Francisco’s eyes glow with sick glee.
—Y-Yes, Mr. Mayor!
—Good luck, brother.
Hearing Antonio calling him “brother” makes Francisco drop a tear of joy.
—Yes, brother!
The sounds have stopped. The walls are painted red, and the echoes of agony fade into silence. All that remains is the chilling aftermath of her rampage in the darkened meeting room.
The present…
Julio’s narration:
The wooden floor of the police carriage creaks beneath me as it bounces over the uneven dirt road. My wrists are sore from the tightness of the cuffs, but that’s the least of my worries. I lean back against the cold, hard wall, trying to keep calm.
At least Licovi and the others are safe. If they had been dragged into this too, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I keep telling myself that their safety is all that matters. Still, it’s hard not to wonder what The Velas are planning, or how I’ll get out of this mess.
The carriage suddenly stops. I hear muffled voices outside, then the sharp clink of keys unlocking the door. “Get out!” one of the officers barks, yanking me by the arm and pulling me out of the carriage with brutal force. As my espadrilles hit the ground, I look around and my heart sinks. We’re not at the police station. This is a field, far from the town, surrounded by nothing but darkness and trees swaying ominously in the wind.
So, this is it. I always suspected it might end like this, but seeing it now… it’s almost funny how calmly I’m taking it. I won’t give them the satisfaction of begging for my life.
They shove me forward, and I stumble but stay on my feet. The officer behind me is armed, of course. There’s no way they’ll let me go back to Harmony Town alive.
But I’m not afraid of dying—not really. What actually scares me is not seeing Licovi again. But, If I’m going to die, I’ll make them work for it. I clench my fists, feeling the metal bite into my wrists as I prepare myself. They may take me out, but I’ll fight until the end.
Francisco stands a few steps away, his twisted grin illuminated by lights of the carriage.
—Well, Montoya, look at you now —he mocks, pacing slowly like a predator circling its prey—. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this moment? Watching you humiliating me, time and time again, acting like some sort of hero… You have no idea how patient I’ve been. But don’t think this ends with your death. Oh, no. I’ll make sure your dear Licovi suffers too.
My blood boils, and before I can think twice, I lunge at him. For a brief second, Francisco flinches, his facade of confidence cracking. But the police officers react quickly, slamming their batons into my sides and forcing me to the ground. Pain radiates through my ribs as they continue hitting me, but I refuse to cry out.
Francisco chuckles, regaining his composure.
—Easy there, hero. Don’t want to lose your strength just yet.
To my surprise, he raises a hand, signaling the officers to step back.
—Let him stand. He deserves to see this properly.
As I’m forced to my feet, the shadows around us seem to shift. Then, from the darkness, a figure emerges, hopping delicately toward us.
At first, I can’t believe my eyes. A woman steps into the dim light—a vision of beauty and seduction. Her gaze is piercing, and her lips curl into a sly smile. The officers freeze, unsure of what they’re seeing.
Francisco smirks.
—Gentlemen, meet La Patasola.
My heart drops. It’s her—La Patasola, hiding behind that perfect, alluring facade.
—You… you’re the one who summoned her! —I spit, glaring at Francisco.
He chuckles darkly.
—There’s so much you don’t understand, Montoya.
The officers exchange uneasy glances, their fear evident. One of them stammers.
—She… she’s real?
Francisco waves dismissively.
—Relax, boys. She’s on our side. She’s only here for him.
Turning to the creature, he gestures toward me with a twisted grin.
—Make him suffer.
La Patasola steps forward, swaying her hips. The guards’ fear melts away, replaced by crude grins and inappropriate comments. One even reaches out, his hand lingering too long on her shoulder.
Her smile doesn’t falter, but her eyes gleam with something darker.
—Gentlemen, you flatter me —she purrs, her voice dripping with honey.
—Beautiful, Patasola —says one of the guards with a lascivious tone —I hope you are good doing more things than killing.
The creature smiles and replies with her sensual voice.
—You naughty boy. You must know that I really don’t like that name.
Francisco orders them to release me, eager to watch me struggle. My hands are freed, but I barely have time to react before chaos erupts.
Without warning, the Patasola turns on the guards. Still in her beautiful form, she strikes with deadly precision. Blood sprays into the night as she tears through them, their screams cutting off almost as quickly as they begin.
Francisco stumbles backward, his face pale.
—W-what are you doing?! Stop! STOP! You’re supposed to be working for me!
She slowly turns to him, her smile widening into something monstrous. Her body contorts, transforming into the horrifying creature I feared.
Francisco desperately screams, but before she can reach him, I grab his arm.
—Move!
His terror-stricken eyes meet mine, and for once, he obeys without question. Together, we bolt into the darkness, the Patasola’s guttural growl echoing behind us.
As we run, Francisco’s panicked screams echo in the dark.
—Why?! Why me?! What did I do wrong?!
His voice cracks under the weight of his terror. Suddenly, he goes silent, his face shifting into something even more horrifying.
—No… It can’t be.
I hear him whisper, barely audible.
—Antonio… That bastard.
And then he erupts.
—My own brother betrayed me!
His voice carries a mix of rage and despair, but as he turns to look at me, the cowardice I’ve always despised in him returns.
—Montoya, please! For Gods’ sake, help me! I’ll tell you everything, everything you want to know!
He stumbles, reaching for my arm, but before he can get close, claws pierce through his head with a sickening crunch.
Francisco freezes. His eyes widen in absolute horror as the Patasola’s talons burst out of his mouth, silencing him forever. The agony etched on his face is indescribable.
In one swift, brutal motion, the creature swings her other claw, slicing his head in two. Blood sprays in every direction as Francisco’s lifeless body collapses with a sickening thud.
The sight is grotesque, but his death grants me what I desperately need: time.
I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. My legs propel me forward, fueled by pure instinct. I run; every ounce of my being focused on escaping.
Behind me, I hear the Patasola’s furiously growling. But I don’t stop. Not now. Every second counts.
The forest swallows me whole, its shadows wrapping around me like a protective shroud.
At last, silence falls. The only sounds left are my ragged breathing and the thunderous pounding of my heart.
TO BE CONTINUED…
