Chapter 1 - THE DUST OF THE SIERRA
The heavy military boots pressed against the stone path,
carrying the weight of a long and exhausting deployment.
Captain Andrés Robles breathed in the dry air,
feeling the familiar tension in his shoulders ease slightly.
The Sierra had been a brutal testing ground,
filled with endless nights and hidden dangers.
Yet,
as he approached his own front door,
an inexplicable sense of dread washed over him.
The house stood quiet,
too quiet for a homecoming.
He dropped his heavy backpack onto the porch,
the thud echoing through the quiet afternoon.
He had dreamed of the smell of fresh coffee,
of warm tortillas waiting on the kitchen table.
He had imagined his wife,
Renata,
running into his arms with tears of joy.
Instead,
the silence was deafening,
broken only by a strange,
hollow sound from above.
It was a rhythmic thumping,
like a desperate heartbeat against wood.
He paused,
his hand hovering over the brass doorknob.
His military training kept his breathing steady,
but his heart hammered against his ribs.
The air felt thick,
laden with an unspoken crisis.
He turned the key,
the mechanism clicking loudly in the quiet neighborhood.
As the door swung open,
the scent of lavender perfume mixed with something stale.
The living room was pristine,
arranged with geometric perfection.
On the couch sat Renata,
her posture elegant,
yet entirely devoid of warmth.
She did not jump up to greet him,
nor did she smile.
She simply looked up,
her eyes reflecting a calculated sadness.
Before he could speak,
the thumping from the second floor grew louder.
It was followed by a muffled,
agonized cry.
Andrés,
my son,
do not leave me here,
the voice cried out.
It was his mother,
Mrs. Teresa,
sounding like a ghost trapped in her own home.
The sound pierced his chest,
shattering the illusion of peace.
He stood frozen,
the dust of the Sierra still clinging to his uniform.
May you like
The home he left behind was gone,
replaced by a stage where a dark play was unfolding.
