Total Consciousness

Chapter-3: Heart and Soul

The woods stood still with ringing silence. Este, Elotro and Aquel stared at the shadows, searching for signs of movement—only dirt particles settled toward the earth. Over cautious, the three men look closely into the night multiple times. Nothing else appeared from the darkness. Still, they waited.

     Awkward glances exchanged between each man. They nodded at each other and smiled with red blush on their cheeks. Nervous laughter shattered the blue tightness of the night, and the three men reloaded, and holstered their pistols.

     Despite the loud stillness, a thick unease of bloodlust radiated in the air. It left the men feeling jittery and anxious, and foolish.

     Movement yanked at Aquel’s attention from below. He turned his face quick and readied to engage the vicious bad thing. He gripped his guns hard, as his heart pounded and raced up into his throat.

     The soft light from the red moon flowed over everything, blending edges together and making it difficult to focus on one thing. Even so, Aquel found his target.

     He laughed and tongued over his Puma Rojo tobacco in his lower lip. It was only the woman on the ground. Pathetic animal, he thought as he grimaced, and continued to judge his dirty plaything.

     The poor piggy-pig-pig on the ground reached out with her right arm and mumbled nonsense. Her defeated voice tried to rise above the night with a spark of hope. It disgusted Aquel, having to listen to her desperate thoughts.

     “Ayuda me, Ayuda me,” said the battered woman,“…Help me, helpme … por favor…please … señor…con todo, señor.”

     Aquel chimed in like a parent playfully scolding a newborn baby. “No, no, no, mujer … no one is here to save you. Pray if you like, but no miracles this night. The dream ends for you; and here you rest in peace, in 1821.”

     A melodic sanguine whistling cut in from the south; it pierced into a melancholy rhythm, then into a deep death cry before repeating the pattern. The tune rattled the hairs on Aquel’s ass, spreading cold shivers up his back and down his legs.

     For a few embarrassing seconds Aquel choked and struggled to breathe. He coughed and pounded his chest. “Stop that annoying whistling, pendejos,” hesaid, “it’s killing my mood for another round.” 

     Este moved quickly and double tapped Aquel on his left shoulder. “O-over there … hombres …look over there, sitting on that boulder. That man is whistling.”

     Aquel turned slow and faced the intruder in the bone white gambler hat. The image of that man drained all certainty from his heart. In its place, cold numbness tumbled and punched into his chest. And his throat burned tight with a mouthful of gagging vomit. He spat to the left and inspected the man with greater scrutiny.

     Run. Run-away erupted within Aquel’s entire being—every muscle and bone in his body urged him to sprint away from this man. Never had he felt such an overwhelming, over ripe grape taste of death from any man. But … this man is only one man, he countered in his mind, spitting once more over his left shoulder.

     Aquel continued to stare at the uninvited guest. His heart slammed against his ribs, pumping boiling blood that washed over him with infinite hurt, pride and jealousy, while his bones and his muscles urged him to run.

     In the end, Aquel ignored his instincts. “Stay firm chicos,” he said, “don’t think of running. We run from no god damn man.” He snickered at the intruder, judging him from his pearl white boots up to his bone white hat.

     “Hola, muchachitos, how goes the mid-night?” said Luz. He smiled and winked as he stepped off the boulder.

     The three men lifted their pistols in unison, locking their arms in place. To their surprise, an odd feeling iced through their veins. Their instinct to kill betrayed them. In its usual place, each man felt a flooding desire to race away, to catch up with the other animals, and perhaps reach their horses in the east.

     Shame sweated out of the three men in copious amounts—most of all, from Aquel’s body. The golden stench of musky confusion covered them all in an unfamiliar wet emotion: good honest fear. It infuriated Aquel to be covered so weak in front of his very own men. Only one god damn man, he thought.

     “No chinges, cabron.” Aquel spat to his left side. “This is none of your business. Largate, go on now; run off like a weak little puta. That is, unless you want to join this perra pig on the ground?”

     Aquel laughed halfheartedly at the intruder, as he wiped sweat from his forehead, using the back of his trembling hand and forearm.

     Luz approached the battered woman and stared into her. He squatted down and balanced on the balls of his feet, and he looked deeper at her finer details. “Oh, I see.” He finished his thorough search into the woman and pursed his lips.

     “No,” said Luz. “No, mujer; what do I gain from helping you? What could you ever have to offer me?” He stood, filled with disappointment and dusted off his hands. A light sigh fell out of him. “Why should I?” He focused on the breathing shadows, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in annoyance.

     Luz whistled and adjusted his coat, still ignoring the three startled men. “My answer is no, mujer.” He winked at the woman and tipped his hat at her and stepped to leave. His warm eyes smiled at her, sending a cold burn through her exhaustion.

     The woman grunted her swollen eye into an open sliver. Fresh heat rose from her heart as she reached out to stop Luz. For a gram of hope, she pulled at his silk midnight pants and held him in place with shivering hands. Her words and ideas tripped over themselves. That didn’t matter. Luz tasted every boiling thought in her heart. He grinned and looked through the three little bunny men once more. And he whistled a low echoing tune of, The Killing Moon.

     Luz lifted his chin up and found a half-eaten nut on one of the branches of a pine tree. He smacked his lips, making an mmcht sound. “Careful with that, mujer,” he said as he focused on the red-crescent moon. He stared at the frozen wink in the sky for three short breaths … and he accepted her offer. Still, he peered once more through the three men and then finished with his final judgment.

     He looked back down into the woman.

     “Are you sure,” asked Luz, “about your offer? There is no going back once we agree. Break your word to me once, only once, and you’re good as eternally dead.”

     The worn-out woman struggled to rise onto her elbows. She trembled with furious determination, causing her exposed teardrop breasts to jiggle in the firm nippy air. She tried sitting up; but her numb legs refused to work. Instead, with a weak nod, she whispered out a quivering scorn filled response: “Si, I swear, I swear to all of it, with my entire blood. Damn them to hell, señor. Damn them, please.”

      Aquel moved closer to his piggy-nut on the floor. He stepped in between his piggy and the interloper. No one ignores me cabron, he thought as he spat oily dip into Luz’s face.

     “Who in the pig-fucks do you think you are?” Aquel clicked the hammers back on his pistols. “Pinche, pig. You’re nothing, a simple little pig roast lost in the woods.” He spat half of his oily dip toward the pig-intruder.

     Luz searched his pants pockets with a smooth calm.

    “Don’t ignore me,” said Aquel, “you piece of sloppy pig shit. I’m gonna tie you up and have my way with you. Over there, see that tree. I’d like to see you try to defeat all three of us. Sure would be a treat, right after being roped and chained to that solid pine tree. It’s over. We ain’t three little boys lost in the woods, pendejo.”

     Aquel looked over his shoulder at Este and at Elotro. He frowned with embarrassment. Both of his men looked pale and on the verge of being sick. Worst of all, they each shook uncontrollably in their mud brown boots. He waved them over for a quick talk.

     The three men huddled together.

     Luz reached into his inner coat pocket and produced a silk dark-green handkerchief. He wiped his face. And, for the time being, he smiled with amusement as he listened to the three little babes carry on with their planning.

     “This is different,” said Este. He stepped back. “We need to leave him be, Jefe. It just don’t feel … any kinds of right.”

     “Si, hombre … this, he, is much different,” said Elotro. He stepped back away from Luz. “It smells of festering death when I look at this man, Aquel. We need to leave him be.”

     A realization spread over Luz’s face, causing him to adjust his white gambler hat. “My apologies, little boys, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Luz Rey Del’Mundo; but no need to be formal, just call me Luz. Is this man here your leader?” He pointed at Aquel. “Does he speak for the two of you?”

     Este and Elotro looked at each other with unease and then at Aquel. Both men nodded their heads like two little boys caught stealing from their mother. They each said yes with a cold sense of trepidation.

     “Fair enough,” said Luz, “here then, ties me up so we can begin.” He clasped his two hands together and winked at their leader.

     Aquel froze for half a breath as he fumbled out his orders: “Este … Este, tie his hands together; and, and … Elotro tie his legs together at his knees and at his ankles. There, secure him to that pine tree, right over there.” He kept his guns pointed at Luz as he motioned with his head.

     The two men couldn’t budge forward. Their legs had locked in place at the thought of advancing. Instead, each man took a half step back, shaking with each breath.

     Aquel’s eyes widened with shameful anger. He fired two rounds into the night sky. The shots echoed up and down the mountain with killer certainty. 

     His two men flinched and freely flowed warmth, wetting their pants.

     “Stop hesitating. The next two shots,” said Aquel, “are going into you two maricas. Move it and step into action. I’m still El Jefe. Go on, move, I want it done now. Make it happen, pendejas.”

     The men shuffled and scrambled over ropes and chains, careful not to step on the lard bag.

     An entire song played out. And the man in the bone white hat stood tied and chained up to a large pine tree. He did his best not to smile so much.

      “See, pendejos,” said Aquel, “he’s just a crazy man—nothing to worry about. That’s all that he is, un loco infeliz de la noche … make ready, gentlemen. Empty them into this nut case pig wanderer of the night.”

     Aquel air kissed two times at Luz as he tongued over his remaining dip. He spat the rest of it over his left shoulder and laughed. “Go to hell,” he said, “burn in misery, you crazy son of a puta.” He smiled and gently pressed back on his triggers. 

     Aquel fired his two pistols one after the other, and nodded at his two men to join in. For a hesitating half second, the two men shuddered in place and struggled to keep their pistols leveled.  

     El Jefe looked over his shoulder and glared at his two men with an asymmetrical smile. “What did I say?”

     The two men swallowed hard and joined in.

     Blast after blast, bang after bang, the three men unloaded their guns, sending thunder ripping through the night sky.

     Splinters from the large pine tree filled the space around Luz. Hot bullets ricocheted with sparks off the chains. And, grey-white smoke drifted in the air, covering the visibility of the three gunmen.

     The woman on the ground covered her ears. She looked away and tried to fight back her tears. Each shot punched a certainty into her solar plexus—causing nauseating spasms in her stomach, chest and throat. She curled up on the ground, tensing her shoulders and crossing her forearms in front of her face. How stupid, so, stupid to dream, she thought as she bit down on her right forearm, drawing another trickle of blood.

     The pistols smoked in place, emptied and hot. And all about the mountain cried the echoes of bunny men, satisfied, beneath the crescent killing moon.

     Aquel holstered his pistols first, content with his night practice. He approached the pine tree and stepped through the smell of sulfur, waving away grey thinning smoke. Closer to his prey, he crunched pine wood chips beneath his steps. And he squinted to check the chains and rope, and the beautiful carnage he imagined.

     He moved within arm’s length and inspected Luz. But, to his dismay, a strange certainty surged up in his throat, vile and strong with acid.

     For the first time in his entire life, Aquel felt ripples of immense dreadful panic. Something did not make sense in his world. The lack of blood and gore yanked at his nape like a cougar dragging a dead mule deer to its cubs.

     Instinctual reflexes forced Aquel to double jump backward, and to move quickly on reloading his guns. The two men behind him followed his lead and reloaded with quivering hands, doing their best to ignore their severe desert mouth.

     Luz raised his head and dropped his hat in the process. He smiled ever so calmly and spoke with a serene tone of voice.

     “Tsk, tsk, tsks … little boys, little boys—filled with joy, so much joy, playing with their boom, boom toys.”  

     The chains clinked and popped away. The ropes twanged and burst forward. Luz brushed his coat and picked up his gambler hat. And he grinned with a double wink at Aquel.

     “Don’t run; don’t run … little boys,” said Luz with a playful smile. He quickly selected another song and let it burn above his head. “Careful now—the shadows bite.”

     Este broke into a jiggling side wobble of a sprint heading east. His portly stomach and fat chest bounced in alternating rhythms. Heat and sweat poured over him with each anguished step he placed.

     Elotro cried like a two-year-old toddler, waving his hands every which way, dropping his guns, dropping his useless toys.

     “No, no, no,” said Elotro, “this … this, can’t be … it’s not real, it’s only a dream, only a bad dream in the desert. This can’t be real—no such thing … there’s no such thing?”

     A serene look of surprise blossomed upon the woman’s beaten face. She trembled uncontrollably, laughed, and wiped her mouth and cold nose. Sweet excitement filled her with giddiness. The entire scene eased her exhaustion away like a fountain wish come true. Still, she struggled to push up onto her swollen palms.

     “You three demons,” said the woman, “are more than real for me, cabrones. Welcome to the nightmare … taste it and eat it all up. There’s plenty of fresh torment for everyone to have. So, delicious, don’t you think, eh?”

     Aquel raised his pistols once more. He still believed that he could kill the real vicious bad thing approaching him.

      Luz reached out with a delicate grace, before another round let loose into the frigid night air over Madera. And, with a gentle touch, he calmly tapped away both forearms off Aquel’s body, severing them just above the elbows.

     Dark life filled the space in front of Aquel. The spastic jerks of deep red shocked him into a stupor of disbelief. Unarmed, he gawked at his forearms on the ground, and at his hands still gripping both of his very own pistols.

     Aquel let loose manic screams—desperate for certainty and reason. His world flickered between light and sleep. And he felt cold with suffocating sickness.

     “Wait … wait, wait,” said Luz. His hands glowed bright red. “Not so fast. I don’t want you to bleed out and die so soon.”

     Aquel’s head bobbed about in a daze as Luz stepped in to hold the nubs of his bleeding arms. Bright flashes of red light pulsed from Luz’s hands, cauterizing the remaining arms. Bones cracked, and meat and fat sizzled within the scolding hands that held Aquel up. A putrid smell of burnt flesh danced in the air, and all the bleeding stopped. But the truthful screams continued up and down the mountain.   

     Elotro choked in place within a turbulent myriad of shock and horror. He shook his head in disbelief and lost control of himself. His body defecated and vomited and cried, while the nightmare continued to play out before him.

     Lost beyond the present, Elotro hummed an old nursery rhyme from his youth. He tried desperately to hide from where he stood. Tears flowed out of his blood shot eyes as he looked up at the sky. “Go to sleep little boy, go to sleep now,” he repeated to himself, hoping and wishing for a brief moment of escape. “For here comes, El Cucuy, to take you away.” 

     The crescent moon glowed copper red. The stars did not shine with their usual luster. And the battered woman on the ground laughed and jiggled beneath the killing moon.

     A blurred darkness flew overhead. The heavy shadow slammed into the pine tree Luz had been tied to. The tree cracked and swayed back and forth, sending the shadow thing forward. The mass of darkness crashed onto the earth and bounced twice—green needles, golden pinecones and small branches scattered down over it.

     Through the dirt cloud, Elotro and Aquel looked on in a quivering stance of living hell.

     There, motionless in a mangled mess, Este looked up at the dim lit sky. He lay dead and triple twisted, purple and swollen, and thoroughly broken from bone to bone.

     “That’s not what I asked for,” said Luz. He shook his head and raised his arms apologetically at the two men. “Bring them back, I said bring them back—not slam them back in a jumbled-up mess of tortured art.”

     Luz approached Elotro with light steps. Gentle with his touch, he tapped the shaking man’s forearms away and quickly cauterized his remaining arms.

     “My apologies, niños,” said Luz, “this is embarrassing. Eh-hem, sometimes my assistant gets creative with my orders.”

     The two men moved without hesitation. Luz guided them. And, he had them kneel next to the mangled remains of Este.

     Gooey snot and childlike whimpers escaped each unarmed man. They sat on their heels unable to blink, lost in a catatonic inescapable hell.

     Luz picked up three canteens and quickly finished his search of the campsite. He whistled for three breaths and placed the canteens in front of the battered woman. 

     She looked mystified and trapped within a winding mess of a maze. Her bulging good eye refused to blink or look away. Instead, she wiped feverish sweat from her face and slick breasts.

     The woman stared at the man in the pearl white boots and burst into laughter, spitting saliva onto her lips and chin. She coughed and giggled uncontrollably, as she drank three chugs from one of the canteens. The drink relaxed her.

     With the second canteen, she managed to clean her face and body. The cool water spread relief over her burning skin and deep sore throat.

     The woman rocked back and forth, horrified and unable to look away from her demonic savior. She tried to get her body to stand and to move, but she failed. 

     Luz hummed a soft melody and squatted down beside her and reached for her head. She flinched back with an overused scream; but she returned to his touch and lowered her arms in a defeated series of whimpering breaths.

     He rubbed the back of her head, down to her neck and onto her shoulders, and back up. She winced at each caress he made, especially when he massaged her scalp. “It’s okay,” he said as her black curly hair tangled around his hand in a sweaty mess.

     To her surprise, his soft touches carried her worries away as warm energy entered her through each fingertip. The surge of strength expanded and revitalized her legs and beaten body with new light. And, most welcomed, her entire being renewed with purpose and lustful hot conviction for judgment.

     The woman stood up with wobbly legs. Her tattered dress fell off, leaving her shattered and naked beneath the copper-red moon slice. Her thick hourglass curves bulged with newly added cuts and bruises. And, though swollen, her face still showed her elegant beauty with a deep sapphire eye, alert to her surroundings.

     Luz reached into his coat pocket and tossed out a thick silver dagger, the length of a man’s forearm. It landed with a heavy thump at the muddy toe tips of the woman.

     “Listen close, niños,” said Luz. He stepped to the side of the two unarmed men. “Do not move. If you budge or fight back against this woman, I will devour your souls and break you off from the cycle of life—eternal death will be your final judgment.”

     Pure anger forced Aquel to sit straight up and to face the certain feeling of the inevitable. He mustered up his pride and spoke his final claim.

     “Who are you to judge me, demon cowboy? We are all the same on this miserable piece of shit Earth. What, who gives you the right to judge, anyone? Why should I feel shame for being as I am, for urging and wanting and lusting as I do?”

     Luz peered once more into the heart and soul of Aquel, and Elotro, and spoke of the truth he knew.

     “All are in the same eternal battle on Earth,” said Luz. “This much is true. Though, choosing who you reveal in the world is your soul’s responsibility. That makes you all uniquely accountable. Not all produce the same harvest on Earth. Foolish child, feeling an emotion or an urge does not make it right to follow it. Fair reflects fair, and it is from your free choice that gives me the right, to magnify and to reflect right back onto you. I only return what you have reaped and sowed throughout your life.”

     Aquel seethed with fury, feeling the words cut deep. Unable to surrender his pride, he refused to acquiesce. In the end, all his thoughts abandoned him, and he remained silent. And, as he sat in his festering pool of blameful emotions, he lost himself in his soul’s infinite series of summed up prideful choices.   

      Luz turned to the woman: “I have done my part, mujer. It falls upon you. Pick up that dagger and commit to me and save yourself. Fear nothing; you will succeed once you move to act.”

     Fire burned in her chest the moment the naked woman picked up the heavy dagger. She struggled to breathe as she caught her own reflection on the long-polished blade. Beaten and used, she gnashed her teeth and remembered and flamed up with real vicious desire.

     She reflected on the past three days—torture at the hands of these men, enjoyed more so by Aquel. She wiped more sweat from her face and trembled with righteous resentment.

     The woman stepped forward with quick-short breaths. A moment of two paths, she decided on her sole choice. She death gripped the hilt of the silver dagger and yelled.

     First with Elotro and then with Aquel, she plunged the blade, and plunged it again, rending it into each meaty pulse.

     Tears bled into her soul. She ripped and ripped open the throats of the two kneeling men. Dark blood jerked out in gurgling spasms of hot steam.

     The woman frowned with pride. She looked down at Aquel and judged him more thoroughly.

     “I’ll see you in hell,” she said. “You evil pig shit of a man.”

     And, before Aquel lost all his awareness, the woman lifted his chin, pinched his nose back and rammed the dagger down his dry deep throat, multiple times.

     She left the silver dagger in Aquel’s throat and smiled like an artist at the finish of a painting. No, still needs more, she thought as she gripped the sides of his sweaty face.

     A deep, deep inhale and the woman worked her fingers in, digging slow into each of Aquel’s eye sockets. Squish and white all squirmed out, leaving meaty red holes of fat and nerves.

     Aquel gave one last vomiting convulsion, blinking over black emptiness before going limp in her hands. She pulled the dagger out and let him fall back.

     The woman quaked and panted like a lioness after a kill. Thick blood covered her breasts, her arms and her stomach in pure victory. She tossed the mangled eyes and the bloody dagger to the ground. Her head tilted back, and she widened her stance. The cold night mixed with her heat as she felt her exhausted body, drenched in sweat and splattered with the perfume of death. She smiled.

     Steam lifted from her nakedness. She swayed in her stance as she looked upon a tall pine tree and choked on her breath. At last, she let it all out.  She opened and sobbed without making one sound. Thin salty tears pushed down her grimy face. Dim moonlight sparkled in her good blue eye—and she laughed in silence, tasting and savoring all her suffering. She continued to smile.

     The naked woman washed away sweat and blood using the third canteen. Desperate, she tried her best to clean her breasts and stomach and hands. But she could still feel the stains on her body no matter how much she scrubbed.

     With the third canteen empty, she tossed it away and looked over at the lifeless bodies. They all lay still and empty. It’s over … it’s over … it’s over. She frowned with a glistening pride of contempt.     

    “Not quite,” said Luz. “Speak your accord with me. Let it be clear what you have sold this night.”

     The naked woman faced Luz and felt a tremendous sense of purpose. She moved to him as she placed her left hand over her heart and cupped her left breast. With no regret or hesitation, she knelt on her left knee, and she began.

     “This night,” she said, “I swear to you my worship, my body and my all. Take me as I am.” She lifted her chin and looked directly into her savior’s eyes. “I am yours until my final days of life. Tonight, I freely give of me … to you, I freely sell my heart and soul.”

Thank you

     I appreciate your time in reading this blog post. Next Saturday I will upload the first part of Chapter Four: Satisfy Me, from my novel: Luz Upon The World.

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     Also, I currently have nine independently published books on Amazon. Feel free to visit my Amazon Author Page. My top recommendations are: Luz Upon the World; How Does Writer’s Block Work?; How Does Free-Will Work?; and How Does Studying Work?

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     Thanks again for your time.