William Doonan

I write books and stories.

The Mummies of Blogspace9: Chapter Twenty-Eight

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July 3, 2011
Cupertino, CA
Administrator      http://www.admin.blogspace9.ex

Urgent communication: to Mr. Bruce Hanson.  Although your GPS software has been disabled in your attempt to avoid incarceration, please recall that you did just identify your location on a public blog. 

In our ongoing effort to ensure the success of this project, and our concern for project personnel, we are advising you that we have intercepted three comunications from Seville to Rota that mention you and/or the killing of you.

The first call was made six minutes ago from a coded line in the Seville police department to the mobile phone of Tio Regalado, the gypsy patriarch of a Rota-based heroin distribution outfit.  Your death, and the contents of the house on Soledad Street for half a million euros, was the offer.

The second call, after Tio Regalado ran the offer by his captains, was from Melchor Sacromonte, the gypsy patriarch of a Seville-based criminal enterprise, who ordered Regalado to refuse the offer and provide you with security and safe haven.

The third call, which is only now just concluding, was direct from a landline in the old harem in the Seville Alcazar to Angelino Logoreci, an Albanian capo who controls most of the gun running in southern Spain, and who owns a beach house in Rota.  Your death, and the contents of the house on Soledad Street for a million euros, was the offer.  Contract accepted.

While estimates of Logoreci’s manpower and capacity for rapid asset mobilization are still being processed, you should anticipate unfriendlies on the scene within about seven to ten minutes.

 

July 3, 2011
Rota, Spain
Hanson       http://www.historyismine.blogspace9.ex

Noted. 

voice activation mode: enabled

<background noise excessive>

indiv 1:        OK guys, I’m crossing the street now.  I’m stepping inside the house.  It’s actually very cold in here, which is odd because it’s like two hundred degrees outside.   

There’s something strange going on, I can’t really explain it, but there’s something here that is calling, or appealing to me.  I’m not sure how else to say it, but there’s something very exciting about….

 OK, I’m walking down the hall.  HELLO.  There’s someone in front of me.  HELLO.  She’s a young woman.  She looks Indian.  She’s Peruvian.  She looks to be in her mid-teens, extremely lovely.  HOLA SENORITA. 

indiv 2:        Por que viniste? //<transmode 145//> Why did you come?

inviv 1:         Oh, god.  She’s one of them.  She’s a mummy.  There’s a distinct, uh, a distinct physiological reaction.  I’m actually quite terrified right now. 

indiv 2:        Why did you come? 

indiv 1:        I want to learn about Sebastiano.  I want to find his book.

<screaming>  Let go of my throat.  She’s…she’s incredibly strong.  She’s choking me.  Can you let me go, please.  I mean no harm.

indiv 2:        The last who came seeking Sebastiano was a pistolero, a kind man with a moustache and two guns who also meant no harm.  I almost trusted him.  That was two hundred years ago. Do you know who I am?

indiv 1:        No, but I think you were there with Sebastiano in the village.

indiv 2:        I cleaned his house and cooked his food.  I shared his bed though it made him as mournful as it made him glad. 

indiv 1:        So what happened?  How did you become……?  How did you turn into….

indiv 2:        It was to be our punishment, you see.  In the next parish lived a lunatic priest named Cuellar who had long ago come under the spell of the damned.  For his sins, he was imprisoned.  Sebastiano then approached the cleric who imprisoned him – the Inquisitor himself, and told him what he had learned, how to put down the dead.

indiv 1:        Thank you for letting go of my neck.  But Sebastiano didn’t know that the Inquisitor had already become part of it.

indiv 2:        The soldiers brought us to the pyramid that night so the Inquistor could watch it happen.  They brought us into the dark room, the room with only one candle, and those…things.

indiv 1:        Mukis.

indiv 2:        Mukis, yes.  They bled us.  Made us what we are.  It was unfortunate really, not in anyone’s best interest.  They wanted to punish Sebastiano, and punish him they did, turning him into the last thing he wanted to be.  But of course he couldn’t be killed after that.  They cut out his tongue but he lived.  Ironic, isn’t it, that the only man left in the world capable of putting down the dead was now himself dead?

indiv 1:        Where is Sebastiano now?

indiv 2:        His mind began to wander some centuries ago.  I fear he is quite mad by now though I haven’t seen him in decades.  After the war, he would walk the cemeteries of Seville, saying silent prayers for the fallen. 

indiv 1:        What are you doing?  What are you smelling?

indiv 2:        Someone approaches.  Many men; they are angry.  You have little time, not time enough to ask about the book and the gold.  I’ll give you neither, but you may ask about one or the other.

indiv 1:        ……….the book.

<background noise excessive>

indiv 2:        They are here.  There is a tunnel below that runs under the house; you must go there now.  Take this.  Go to the address on this page. 

indiv 1:        What about you?

indiv 2:        I am about to dine.

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Written by williamdoonan

May 20, 2012 at 7:58 pm

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