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The Statue Of Evil
The Statue Of Evil

The Statue Of Evil

Franc68Lorient Montaner

"There are horrors beyond life's edge that we do not suspect, and once in a while man's evil prying calls them just within our range".—H. P. Lovecraft

I am revealing this tale of horror, so that those that read this account of mine will know that the veracity of what I witnessed was something that was begotten from the accursed arcana of history. An unparalleled evil that was never intended to be understood in any other manner. It was not unnameable. For those that doubt the existence of such an execration, then I will proceed with my confession, to unveil the dark secrets that dwell behind the encroaching madness. Terror has many names and faces, whose eldritch episodes manifest with the vestigial fears of its dauntless imposition. Within the realm of reality, there are certain things that are inscribed in the books that we read and engrained in the memory of our minds. From these things that appear as immovable and unrealistic, there was a surreptitious statue that displayed an innocence that was tainted, with an insidious mystery that was concealed behind its marble composition.

The year was 1928, and I was in the town of Piedras Negras, Mexico, within the state of Coahuila. I had arrived by automobile at the hotel, near the southernmost abutment of the railroad bridge that overlooked the river of the Rio Grande that divided the borders of Mexico and the United States. My name is Simon Blackwood, an American from Philadelphia. I was there to meet a local businessman by the name of Enrique Beltran, whose family was well imbedded in the state of Coahuila. I was a representative of a railroad company that was interested in the transportation of coal to the United States. Piedras Negras or Black Rocks as it was known in English, had mines that were active in the extraction of carbon, silver, gold, zinc, copper, but it was its large reserves of coal that had captured our attention and was the cause of my planned visit.

That afternoon, I had met Mr. Beltran and had discussed the matter of my company's interest in foreign investment. Fortunately, for me, I had convinced him about the seriousness of my intentions and what profit would be obtain with our mutual agreement. He had taken me to the mine to see the production of the coal. I was impressed by the diligence of the miners and the quality of the coal. It had appeared to be an enticing profit for our company, and the future was looking bright. There beyond the operations of the mine was a narrow passage that had led to an opaque chamber that was inhabited by screeching bats. As we had entered, we felt a sudden rush of air, and I had an ominous sense of something unnatural about the stygian chamber. It was there that we found a pair of relics that were peculiar, small statues of figures that had represented a strange beast from a different era that was of the precolonial age, along with the archaic ruins of a buried temple that once stood erect.

I was told that the statures were most likely dated from the 17th century, during the time of the Spanish Conquest of Mexico. Judging from the distinctive features on the statue, the figure was perhaps a reverential god, worshiped by a group of followers who were anonymous to me. As for the temple, that too was obfuscating. The question was who were those exact followers, and who was this unique god in its totality that a temple was built for its adoration? I had given the other statute to Mr. Beltran to keep, as a token of archaeological importance. He had mentioned to me that there would be an excavation, as soon as he could organize a group of volunteers to assist him in that task. I could only guess, what other priceless artifacts of historical value, were buried in that cavern. I would never know that what had been discovered or unearthed in the mine was something that was buried for countless centuries.

What I had seen of the active operations of the mine had given me the general impression that Mexico was emerging from its recent chaotic period, and entering into an industrial transition that was beneficial to both countries. Thereafter, Mr. Beltran had invited me to visit his home for dinner. I had planned on staying at the town and hotel for a day, before I would return to Austin, where I was living. At the hotel, I had sent a telegram to the office of where I was working, to inform the company's secretary, about the agreement that I had arranged with Mr. Beltran on that day. It had seemed that my stay in the town would be over but unbeknown to me, there was a lurking terror that was present and would involve me directly, causing me to remain in Piedras Negras.

An unusual incident would occur that evening, as I waited in my room at the hotel. When I had prepared myself to go to see Mr. Beltran again at his residence, I would be informed that the dead body of his daughter was found lying face downward in the Rio Grande River. Her death was considered a drowning, but the investigation was still unclear about the hour of her death. I was completely surprised by the news. I did not think that such drastic turn of events would be related, and I had stopped by at the home of Mr. Beltran to offer my condolences. I could not fathom at the time that the horrible sequence of events that would ensue would be linked to her untimely death. The implication of that portentous admission would ultimately affect me in the most heinous circumstances.

I had told Mr. Beltran that I would remain in Piedras Negras a few days more, in order so that he could occupy his time with the unfortunate funeral of his deceased daughter. I had notified the hotel that I would be staying there a few more days than originally expected. That night when I had returned to the hotel, I would spend my time thinking about the odd occurrence of Mr. Beltran's daughter's death. What I did not know was the fact that upon that night, the bizarre episodes of an inexplicable nature would initiate, with the appearance of an evil and ghostly spirit. A spirit that was imprisoned and left to be forgotten by time, but its interment would be interrupted, and with its emancipation, an unsettling horror would be unleashed on to the world.

I was in my room experimenting a nightmare, when I heard indeterminate noises, coming from outside of my door. At first, I had the instinctive notion that it could be nothing more than footfalls of late-night guests that were arriving at the hotel. The noises were active in the hallway. After several minutes, the queer noises had increased. It was sufficient for me to step outside and investigate on my own. When I was outside of the room, I did not see anyone in the hallway present. I went to the staircases, and no people were seen as well. It was then that the fluttering noise of the wings of the nocturnal doves I heard from the wide veranda. They were gathered on the roof and the towering palm trees beside the hotel. They were the only ones making sounds at that late hour.

I had dismissed the noises as being, perhaps my mind interpreting things that I had perceived erroneously, but I could not dismiss so easily, the disturbing contents of the nightmare I had experienced. In my nightmare, I had seen the burning of people sent to the stake to be executed, by what I had deduced was some draconian form of an inquisition. What was even more compelling would be the statue of the creature that I had discovered. I had placed it on top of a small table I was given. There was something ineffable about its piercing eyes that were staring into mine, with a hypnotic imposture. For a brief period of time, I had sensed that I was under its immediate control. The sound of the wind blowing outside had suddenly aroused me from my intense trance.

At that time, I was uncertain about what, was truly occurring and had I mistaken the influence of the nightmare and statue, as mere superstitious overreaction on my part? Perhaps it was only my fatigue that was exerting its effects upon me. It had only been just recent that I was troubled, by the death of the young daughter of Mr. Beltran. I was not a timorous man to be rattled by the activities of the preternatural. It was also impossible to sleep much, due to the constant wind and sound of the train that would pass at intervals, but I was determined to sacrifice these inconveniences, for the business that had brought me to Piedras Negras. For the remainder of that night, I had slept with pieces of cotton in my ears, hoping to muffle the noises outside.

During the following morning, I had been occupied with reading the local newspaper. Because of the close proximity to the town of Eagle Pass on the United States' side, the newspaper was distributed also in the English language. The death of Mr. Beltrans' daughter was on the front page. To the local authorities, it was still unclear how the body of the young girl had reached the Rio Grande River. The assumption of her drowning was the logical choice, but the police did not exclude the possibility of foul play. It was indeed a strange occurrence. I had spent the rest of the morning, walking down the narrow streets of the downtown area, where the markets were busy selling corn, cotton, wheat, beans, flour, along the restaurants that were ample and open.

That evening, I was visited by Mr. Beltran at the hotel. I was surprised to see him so soon. I had expected to not see him until he was in conditions to resume our business affair. When he had knocked on the door, I answered. He had a pale complexion on his face, and his hands were trembling, as I stared into his dilated eyes. In the beginning, he was rambling an incomprehensible utterance of words to me. I took him inside the room and tried to calm him down, with a glass of brandy. After several minutes had passed, he finally was able to coherently speak. What he would confess would be something that was implausible to believe. According to Mr. Beltran, he had seen the apparition of his deceased daughter Veronica at his residence.

The vivid expressions on his face were authentic, but it was his account that I found difficult to accept. The idea that his dead daughter had risen from the dead to haunt him had relived in my mind, the recent nightmare with the scene of the inquisition. What was next that was ironic was the fact that he had brought the second statue of the depicted creature. He had grabbed it from his pocket and started to tell me that it was cursed. It was the devil's work. As a reasonable man, I had assumed that Mr. Beltran was bewildered and was still affected by the tragic death of his daughter. His accusation of a devilish influence could not be ignored, neither could his belief that he had seen his daughter. However, I was concerned about his mental faculties eroding into an unhinged state of mind.

Upon seeing the image of the statue, it had quickly reminded me of the terrible nightmare that I had suffered the prior night. Even with that said, it was still unbelievable to attempt to understand what Mr. Beltran was conveying. He was strongly convinced of what he has witnessed, and the abnormal phenomenon that had developed afterward. I had never seen any man before horrified, with something that he could barely describe with any ounce of rationality. He had forewarned me of the overpowering influence of the statue and that it was evil in nature. He was adamant that it was the statue that had caused the death of his beloved daughter Veronica. To him, it was a patent sign of a diabolical curse and one that we had inadvertently released onto the world.

I had listened to what he had professed, and I told him that perhaps it was better that he stayed here at the hotel in one of the rooms, so that he could regain his composure and equanimity again. Mr. Beltran was a widower, and he had no wife. The brandy had managed to allay his angst and trepidation for the time being. What was puzzling to me to efface from my memory was his genuine apprehension and insistence of the ghost of his beloved Veronica. I had wondered if his dreaded circumstance had not affected his lucidity? To what extent had this enhanced his version of events to have succumbed to an immutable horror? What did the statue have to do with the death of his daughter, and most importantly, what was the true origin of the statues?

During the night, I had been contemplating the weird things that were occurring, such as the noises in the hotel, the death of Mr. Beltrans' daughter, her supposed apparition and my nightmare. There had to be a logical explanation for these things and why they were happening so consequentially? There would be another oddity that would perplex me even more with its surprising result. I had begun to observe and study the statue that I had of the unknown creature. There was something about it that had compelled me to examine it thoroughly, as if there was a hidden truth behind its structured composition. One that was sinister in its wrath and possession. I had an unnatural premonition that whatever was to be discovered about the origins of the immemorial statue, I would decipher its disquieting enigma.

I began to hear a scratching sound from the adjacent window of my room. At first, I had thought it was the whistling wind or a pigeon that had wanted to enter, but then, the presence of the daughter of Mr. Beltran had emerged through a fainting phosphorescence, with an intrusive look of sheer malevolence in her eyes of pallidity. I was aghast with the impression of her appearance and froze for a moment. I could not fathom what I was seeing, until the apparition had suddenly disappeared into the sonorous wind. Had I seen what was a stochastic encounter with a wandering specter or had my imagination deceived me so dramatically? Whatever I had experienced, it had left me pondering the rest of the night, as a certain glow of the full moon had reflected over the railway bridge.

Another horrific piece of news would reach me in the morning. This time, it was the unsuspected death of Mr. Beltran, whose body like that of his daughter's body was found dead in the waters of the Rio Grande flowing face down. This information about his demise had stunned me more than the daughter's death, since I had left him in the comfort of the hotel the night before. As with his daughter, drowning was assumed to be the cause of death. Was it a mere coincidence like that of the daughter, the father would succumb to the same tragedy, or was there something much more devious in nature that was still unrevealing? I had come to the border town of Piedras Negras to do business—never would I suspect that my stay would be connected afterward to an evil evoked, by an ancient cult that was a participant to a lingering terror and practice of witchcraft.

I was not a man inclined to superstition or hyperbolic persuasion, but the insoluble things that were transpiring were enough to make me wonder, about the feasibility of the supernatural realm in some capacity. I was not even certain if what I had seen could be explicable. All that I could surmise was the fact that something of an undetermined nature had manifested to me, as a revenant. If what I had witnessed was indeed from the preternatural world, then why did it appear to me? Was there an ulterior motive for this occurrence? Whatever it was in the end, it would not be the last time that I would encounter a malignant spirit. There were two deaths reported and two victims that were connected to each other. Since I was possibly the last person to have seen Mr. Beltran, I knew the police would want to interview me.

I needed to investigate the matter more in depth, but before I could start that investigation of mine, I would hear a knock on my door. It was the police who were inquiring, about my knowledge of Mr. Beltran's last whereabouts. I kindly opened the door and had proceeded to answer their questions with the utmost candor expressed. I had nothing to conceal or was I involved in the circumstances of his reported deaths. I was not certain, if my replies had drawn immediate suspicion. There were details pending about the deaths, and the notion of foul play was still not ruled out as a viable option. The other option was that Mr. Beltran had committed suicide, because he was unable to bear the loss of his deceased daughter. I was asked to remain in the town, in case of further questions. I had told them that I would comply to their request.

After they had departed, I had the intention of leaving the area, but my intrigue with the statue impelled me to know more about its derivation. Thus, I had taken the statue with me and returned to the mine, whereupon I had learned that the fragments of a body were unearthed. This time, it was the remains of an apparent woman, who was buried in the cavern of the mine. The bones were taken to the house of an archaeologist, whose name was Raul Cisneros. I had visited him, once I was informed of his residence. He was kind enough to allow me to enter. I was eager to ask him about the bones, but as well, the statues that I along with Mr. Beltran had discovered. When I showed him the statues, he was convinced that they had belonged to the precolonial period. There was definitely an arcane origin that was attached to the statues and the bones unearthed.

Mr. Cisneros had heard an urban legend about old cases of witchcraft that were once prevalent in the late 17th century, when the Spaniards had arrived to impose their religious inquisition in the area. The most popular of those tales vouchsafed was the strange case of Maria Navarro, who was accused of the practice of witchcraft. She had belonged to a secret cult that was deemed demonic in nature. The state of Coahuila was a place where Spaniards would relocate from Texas, hoping to escape the raids of Native Americans. In accordance to this ancestral legend, she had professed in her last utterance of words to return to the earth again and reestablish her cult. Upon hearing Mr. Cisneros' narrative, I was even more bemused about what had bechanced. He had assured me one thing that it was best that I leave the statues in his possession, so that he could make a more thorough examination and study about their hoary origin.

While he was busy with the small statues, I had brought, I was observing the bones of the woman that were discovered in another room, and there was something mysterious about them that had arrested my curiosity. It was incredible to conceive that they were those of a particular woman who had lived centuries ago. Who was this Maria Navarro? I could not forget the apparition that I had seen, or the untimely deaths of Mr. Beltran and his unfortunate daughter. Was such a thing that was inconceivable to fathom the cause, behind their deaths? If there was a demonic cult that was associated to this Maria Navarro, then what happened to the other members? The unfolding suspense had increased with every detail that I was apprised of its relevance. I left the statues with him for the time being and had returned to the hotel. Before I had left, he had introduced me to his beautiful daughter Selina, who was in her mid twenties. She had a sparkling smile and eyes that were blue as a turquoise. Her fine contours were slim, and her ebony hair was silky in texture.

At the hotel, I would be informed that one of the guests had been accidentally killed by the passing train, during the night before. His body was discovered, dissevered near the tracks. There was one witnessed who had seen the tragic occurrence, and his name was Rafael Balderas. According to him, he and the dead man had descried the guise of a ghost that was demonstratively that of a young girl. Immediately, the thought had entered in my mind of Mr. Beltrans' daughter. The sheer fright had caused the man to jump into the tracks to avoid her. This was the testimony of the survivor given, who was with him at that hour of time. The police was not that convinced of his statement, but they had no solid proof that his companion was intentionally murdered. They had concluded it was a terrible accident. The mention of a spectral presence involved was dismissed by the local police, as foolish exaggeration.

I had the impression that the man who had witnessed the incident, was convinced it was no mere accident. All of this could not be a coincidental situation contrived, there had to be more to the deaths that were linked to the bizarre succession of events. How much was this related to the unnatural influence of the statues and the specter I had seen previously? Could the mine had been once, a burial place or the site of a cruel inquisition? I did not have much knowledge on the matter, but I could sense in my intuition that the history of this area was imbedded with the horrendous episodes of the past. A vague past that I would soon discover was more haunting in nature than ever imagined. In the end, it would be an absolute horror that was surreal and unmatched in its vileness.

The occurrences at or near the hotel were beginning to cause the guests to want to leave hastily. There were troubling rumors about the involvement of a secret cult, but that was still not proven. The local people were superstitious and deeply religious in their beliefs and convictions. Although I could not explain what was transpiring, there was definitely something that was behind the sudden deaths. To an anonymous person like myself, the mention of cults or black magic was more of ancient tales of legendary hearsay. It did make me more interested in knowing about how accurate and truthful were these so-called rumors. I had noticed in walking around the town that some people were somewhat reluctant to mingle with foreigners. It did not indicate to me that they were unfriendly, just a bit uncertain of the intentions of strangers who were not locals.

As the day had progressed, I had visited the residence of Professor Cisneros, the archaeologist. When I had reached his home, he would invite me to enter and hear what he had discovered, about the remains of the bones of the ancient woman. He was eager to reveal to me his fascinating findings. What he had disclosed to me was utterly impressive and unique in its authenticity. Professor Cisneros had described the events that had taken place during the year of 1610. According to the evidence that he had read and amassed in documentation, there was an official inquisition that was condemning those who were accused of the acts and practice of witchcraft. There were twenty reported cases, and from amongst them was the case of Maria Navarro, a young Spanish woman who was part of a secret cult.

I had many questions to ask the professor, but the main one was, why was she buried in that cavern? From what the professor could deduce, the reason was most likely because, the cavern of the mine, was a place where in his opinion, the cult members had gathered in a clandestine manner. He had also suggested that the reason that she was not burned to the stake was merely coincidental. He had discovered after examining the bones closely under a microscope, in particular, the neck area, there were no real marks that were visible, except those that would possibly imply drowning. The question that was on my mind was, who was this woman really in essence, and why did she drown in the Rio Grande River, as the professor had intimated? Unfortunately, I would never be able to know that answer, and the professor could only tell me about her esoteric origin and her tragic end.

The mere idea that a woman from the 17th century who was considered a witch was enough to send chills down my spine, and transcend my limited comprehension of the Spanish Inquisition in Mexico. There was another disturbing revelation that the professor would share with me. This Maria Navarro, who had mysteriously drowned in the Rio Grande River, was a direct descendant of his parentage. Apparently, one of Professor Cisnero's ancestors had married the sister of Maria Navarro in the year 1685. That was all to the extent that he could profess of his knowledge about her. When I had asked him what he planned on doing with the skeleton remains, he told me that he would exhibit them in a private exposition, when he had gathered more information.

Selina his daughter, had then showed me a marble statue that was made of the mortal image of Maria Navarro that was remarkable in her distinct features. Seeing the statue had stirred a morbid sensation in me, because it looked just like Selina. I was utterly perplexed by the seemingness of the statue's composition. The professor had an excellent sculptor make the statue for him. It was impossible to believe that Selina had shared these precise and detailed features of Maria Navarro to perfection. Immediately, the connection to her descendance was clearly visible. What was still inconspicuous was the mystery surrounding the life and circumstances of the death of Maria Navarro. There was so much to discover, yet there was little time to explore the oddities that were intertwined in the past. I could not dismiss the ominous omen that the statue and the remains of Maria Navarro had personified of evil foreshadowed.

He handed me over one of the smaller statues, telling me that in case something had happened to him that I would at least have in my possession one of them. I did not ask him for his specific reason. Instead, I had accepted the statue. He also wanted me to send the larger, marble statue of Maria Navarro to a museum in Saltillo when I could, if he was to perish one day. There was a moment when I thought he was simply overreacting, but experiencing the supernatural phenomena that were occurring, I understood his natural preoccupation. I then left the professor's house and had returned to the hotel anew. Along the road back to the hotel, I had contemplated the striking image of the daughter of Professor Cisneros, with her ancestral kindred.

I had stopped at the Rio Grande River and got off my automobile. Something was whispering in my ears to walk toward the river. It was impelling me, with an intrinsic force of the extramundane realm of evil. The whispers had intensified with the wind, and they eventually led me to the brink of the river. The currents were stirring and they sounded like restless gurgles that were echoing from the bottom of the river. Then from the bottom of the river rose up the decrepit and bony hands of a woman, whose hands had no flesh attached. I could see her morbific figure rise from the waters that had once condemned her. Immediately, she came toward me, as I had looked on with sudden astonishment. Her face was covered with the abhorrent grime of the river. She paused then shrieked out loud, before she became immaterial. I left the riverbank, dismayed by what I had recognized, as being a tormenting phantom.

It was impossible to imagine the degree of terror that had been released onto the world, with the unearthing of Maria Navarro. What no one knew was that her ghostly spirit had risen from the dead to exact revenge on the mortals. What I had thought in my perception was a young innocent woman sent to the merciless waters that drowned her, would be altered with the encounter that I would experiment with her dauntless presence. I was in my room standing before a mirror, unbuttoning my shirt, when suddenly I saw the unexplained image of a ghastly woman who was dressed in the dark clothing of the 17th century from top to bottom. It was her intimidating eyes of sheer imposition that were tinctured in the sable color of fright. At first, I was discomposed in a temporary stupor, incredulous of what I had descried, until I had reacted.

Her frightening image had appeared in front of me briefly, before she disappeared into the eerie reflection of the mirror. I had the feeling that she had come for an especial reason that was unknown to me. She was a creepy reminder of the wandering spirits that lurk uninhibitedly, within the penumbras of the night. This was only a precursor to the macabre scenes that would occur afterward that night. Nothing would prepare me for the ceaseless horror that was unthinkable and relentless in its pursuit. What was the meaning of the apparition of the woman that I had witnessed in the mirror? Did I actually see the spirit of Maria Navarro emerge? If so, then this meant that what was happening to me and to the others in the area was directly related to the supernatural realm of immortal beings that reside in boundaries that are at best, recondite?

Who would believe me if I had told anyone from the outside world? How could I begin to relate such a monstrosity in nature that was not even comprehensible in words? The hour of Maria Navarro's wrath had arrived, and with its arrival would befall the most horrendous outcome. Within an hour, there would be another reported death. This time, it would be Professor Cisnero's demise. Yes, the professor who had revealed to me the origin and history of Maria Navarro. His body was found in the Rio Grande floating in the river dead. I had heard about his death, when the police had visited my hotel room to inquire about my meeting with him. The police were informed that I had paid a visit to the home of the professor, and they were curious to know the reason why I had gone there in the first place.

Even though I was not considered a suspect, the police began to observe my actions deliberately. It was uncomfortable to realize that these deaths were of people that I had either met or seen. This did unsettle me and cause me to wonder, whether I would be then charged for any of these deaths. I did not entrust my safety in the hands of the local police. Thus, I was determined that I would leave regardless of the situation in the morning. I had reached the conclusion that if I stayed any longer, I would eventually be arrested. Naturally, I did not disclose this intention to anyone, including the police for fear that I would be seen as fleeing and thought as a criminal. I no longer had in my possession the statues, and the images I had descried were an illustration that was uniquely distinctive in its realization.

The sound of the passing trains would roar, as I stood in my room, thinking about the direful consequences of the deaths and the apparitions that were manifesting transparently. I had an instinctive concern that perhaps the next person to die was myself. To those that have continued to read this account of mine, know that I was not mad at all. On the contrary, I was conscious about the imminent peril that I was confronting. I was no genuine expert on the preternatural, but I had come face to face with an abominable adversary that was the true embodiment of that description in essence. The vivid notion of madness was not a thing that could be explored rationally by the human mind, when the truth was full of endless episodes of an unspeakable horror that was created from the onset—not by me, but by evil itself.

How could I prevent the fatal manifestations or anymore unnecessary deaths from occurring? I had decided to remain in my room, within the two story building that was the hotel, knowing that I could be the next victim of the evil that was encompassing me. It was unnerving and yet, the moments passed with every tick of the clock in the corridor. I could not eat or drink much, because I was extremely wary about the possibility of meeting another spectral visitor that was either Maria Navarro, or some other spirit from a wicked dimension unannouncedly. I had no control whatsoever of what would befall. The only thing that I could do was wait and anticipate the unnatural ones to appear before me. This was of little consolation to my increasing anxiety.

Soon, the instantaneous beats of my heart could be heard pulsating, as the active wind from outside had stirred the silk curtains from inside the room. I could see the bank of the Rio Grande from my view, and hear the train pass with a terrifying echo. The fluttering wings of the pigeons had resounded, and then the phonogram that was in my room had begun to sound music. Immediately, my intuitive sense had told me that something beyond the queerness of its nature was happening to me. I wanted to shout and inform the police officers who were patrolling the hotel and its perimeter, but what would I tell them that they would not assume that I was paranoid or worse insane?
I was helpless—I could do nothing, except to wait and wait for the inevitable to arrive. To think that this all began with a small statue.

So many celeritous thoughts were entering my mind that were becoming more irrational than rational, more unlucid than lucid. As the minutes had passed, the situation was evolving into an unbearable reality. The thought of destroying the statues, including the one made of Maria Navarro was becoming indicative of my growing hysteria and lack of understanding of the supernatural realm of malediction. I had only a vague concept about demonic cults and witchcraft. I had studied in my days at the university, the arcana of mythology and the historicity of pagan religions. There was this unusual enigma that was lacking in its natural transparency. Hitherto, it would burden my consciousness and soul. To attempt to rationalize with the unknown and immortal was futile and had concluded in my frustration to not be able to decipher, the significance of what was more than happenstantial.

It was close to midnight, when I had left the hotel and headed towards the private residence of Professor Cisneros. I had managed to elude the watchful eyes of the policemen who were at the hotel. I had sneaked through the veranda and onto my automobile. The policemen were occupied with another guest at the time. Once I had arrived at the home of Professor Cisneros, I was able to enter the back door that was mysteriously left open. There was no one present at the house, and I had checked before I had entered, for any one who was observing me within the vicinity and would assume my encroachment. I was cautious as I had walked forth, within the ample rooms of the house. I was uncertain of what was to happen next. The only certitude that I had was that the marble statue of Maria Navarro had to be destroyed at once, if the horrific curse was to be avoided.

I was nervous as well, as I had approached, at last, the room where the statue was located. There was an eerie silence, except the sounds of my footsteps. There was too, a measure of the unknown that was a factor that was precipitating my fascination. I stepped inside the room and stared face to face with the intimidating marble statue of Maria Navarro, but I would discover a shocking occurrence. There lying on the floor was Selina. The police had been alerted of my whereabouts and had arrived. Quickly, I had rushed to her to see what was wrong with her. It had appeared that she had abruptly fainted. When I woke her, she was mumbling something about the marble statue. She then pointed at it, with a horrible look in her eyes as they bulged with utter dread. I had turned around to discern the monstrosity that was the animated statue.

The statue had come to life and began to move towards our direction. The devious spirit of Maria Navarro was attempting to enter the body of Selina who was listless. I could perceive what was happening, and I had grabbed Selina to make her snap out of the powerful trance that she was hypnotized. Seeing that I could not reduce the intense influence of Maria Navarro, I had grabbed an object that was a metal rod that I had found and tried to strike the statue with full force, but the statue had prevented me, by shoving me to the ground. When I had regained my composure, it was too late it seemed. The wicked spirit of Maria Navarro had entered the body of Selina to possess her physically in the mortal sense through black magic. The demonic spirit dressed in the raiment of the 17th century began to laugh at us, as if to taunt us with a devilish ire.

The policemen were shooting at her, but the bullets would not penetrate or harm her. They were ineffective and her immense spell had begun to seduce them, with a possessive attraction that was difficult to overcome its imposing effects. It was then that the figure of the creature of the small statue had come to life suddenly, and it had grown into its full size. It was no longer a statue. It was a demon, with sharp claws and long nails. Its teeth were that of a wild beast untamed, and its eyes were of a reddish definement. It had attacked the policemen and had killed one of them, while the other had sought refuge behind a wall. The creature then had lunged at me, but something inadvertently had transpired that was not expected. As it lunged, I had accidentally knocked over the original statue and it had broken into pieces, causing the demonic beast to disappear into the stir of the night.

This had given me the idea that if I destroyed the original statue of Maria Navarro, then she too would disappear for good and be cast to the chasm of hell from whence she departed. As she was evoking the wandering spirits of her ancient cult to return to the earth, one by one they did materialize. Sensing she was distracted, I quickly destroyed the marble statue of hers. It was too late for her to stop me. She could only curse me and resist but to no avail. Her spirit would exit the body of Selina, and her quondam beauty would fade into the mist of the night that had accompanied her from her desirable return to the world of the living. A loud and scream was heard audibly from her, as she vanished suddenly. Gone was the wicked spirit of Maria Navarro and the rest of the members that had emerged. I had looked on with complete disbelief and consternation.

I went to check on Selina, and she was her former self again. But she was clearly shaken by the ordeal and what had occurred thereafter. She was able to explain to me in concise details, what she was doing before she had promptly fainted onto the ground. She had heard a whispering murmur that was calling on her to come to the room of the statue of Maria Navarro. As she had entered, she would be aghast to discover that the statue was alive and she could see it move. That was all she told me that was relevant. It was difficult to explain the evil that had manifested and express the reality that was the horror of Maria Navarro. All that I can asseverate is the fact that she was of a bygone period long forgotten, and that her spirit had exhibited a nature that was truly evil in its quintessence. Whatever origin forsaken of that evil was composed in its entirety, only time would know the actual history of that account.

There was yet the remains of the bones of Maria Navarro to deal with. I had given my word to Professor Cisneros that I would send the bones to the city of Saltillo to be displayed at a public exposition, but after experiencing the evil that they represented, neither Selina nor I thought it was prudent to hand over the fragments of bones to the museum. Thus, it was agreed by the both of us that we would destroy them, by burning them in the furnace where the mine was at. No one had seen us, or was there any mention about the incident to the local police or newspapers. I would leave the town of Piedras Negras and return to Austin, but I would never forget the incredible and irrefutable events that had occurred, during my duration there. The gruesome memories are still afresh, and every time that I stay at a hotel, I am reminded of the irrepressible terror that was Maria Navarro.

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About The Author
Lorient Montaner
About This Story
4 Mar, 2024
Read Time
35 mins
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