Charon's Net

by Gemma Herrero Virto

  The screens displayed a young and very attractive man. He had fairly long brown hair, dark eyes, and very tanned skin. His smile stood out for its whiteness, like an advertisement for toothpaste. The squared shape of the face, and the broad shoulders put one in mind of an athlete, of the captain of the football team in an American film.

  “Just as I told you... The photo’s false,” Gus lit another cigarette and continued talking. “A guy that hot wouldn’t waste his time killing little girls, he’d be screwing them. Pardon my language, Natalia.”

  “It’s okay, at this point nothing alarms me... Besides, I agree with you. This lad can’t be our killer. The build doesn’t tally. We were thinking about somebody small and weak and, although you can’t see his height in the picture, I’d bet that the guy in the photo measures in at about5’11’’. And that’s only from a physical point of view... If we take this photo as true, all of our hypotheses are null and void. Our hypotheses talk about somebody who’s emotionally disturbed, with socialisation issues, and even some obvious physical defect, which was the reason why he would take out the eyes. Does that description line up with this photo, Carlos?”

  Carlos, who had been very quiet up until that moment, averted his gaze from the screen in order to answer:

  “For once, I am completely in agreement with one of your hypotheses, Natalia. That lad can’t be our killer.”

  “And how can you be so sure?” she asked, intrigued.

  “Because I’ve already seen that photo before, and I know that that boy is incapable of killing anybody. He was murdered a year and a half ago.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Hello Patricia,

  I know we only spoke an hour and a half ago, and that right now you will be asleep and, I hope, dreaming of me... I should be content with that and try not to smother you, but every minute I spend without you feels like a century to me. I can’t study, or sleep, I have no desire to eat or have fun... You have become an obsession, and now I live only to see your name appear on the screen. I only feel alive during the moments when I am speaking with you... and they seem such short moments to me...

  I cannot stop recalling your words; I play back our conversations again and again in my head. Never in all my life before have I met anybody so wonderful, so sweet... I would never have been able to imagine that I would find anybody who would be able to understand me in the almost magical way that you do. If only you were with me, the problems would disappear; life would cease to be grey, and would turn into a dream. You are so incredible...

  Every time you go away, it is as if my very reason for living were being torn away from me. You have become a drug for me, and the worst thing of all is that I do not want to give it up. I want to fall deeper and deeper into this addiction, I want to need you and adore you more every day, and I want to become entirely crazy for you until a point at which there is no possible salvation.

  I am leaving my life in your hands. You could destroy me with a single word, but I am prepared to risk my life in order to be with you one single time. And, furthermore, I am not afraid. I truly believe that what is ours is going to work; that once we see each other on Saturday, all of our dreams will come true; that there will be no longer be any problems, or doubts.

  I do not know whether I am going to be able to bear the time left until we meet. I am so nervous that I can think of nothing else. I have spent the entire week thinking about it, and planning this first date so that everything will be perfect.

  By the way, the friend who is going to drive me to Portugalete has told me that he has a match on Saturday afternoon, so I will be arriving later, at around eleven. I hope this is not a problem for you because, if you tell me now that you can’t make it, I will die. But anyway, we’ll talk about that in time tomorrow, when you get home from school.

  I have been thinking about where we could meet up, and I don’t fancy us meeting in a bar, surrounded by people and loud music and not being able to speak. My friend has told me about the lighthouse promenade, and has said that it is a very peaceful place, and very romantic. I think that it would be the ideal location for us to meet. No noise or strangers bothering us... Just you and me, with the stars and the sea. Doesn’t that sound perfect to you?

  Anyway, I hope that you log in soon tomorrow so that we can talk about all of this. I am going to stop typing now because, if I don’t, you’re going to be spending the whole time online reading my email, and I don’t want to lose a single second of being with you. Until tomorrow, my darling.

  I love you,

  Alex

  I went back to rereading the email as I drank my coffee in small sips. It would work, I was certain of that. I typed in Patricia's email address, and sent it. Now all that was left to do was wait for the prey to take the bait and, judging by the passionate conversations that we had had over the recent days, it did not seem to me that it was going to be all that difficult. The next sacrifice would be carried out in accordance with the intended plan. I leaned back in my seat and sighed, trying to expel the tension that I'd felt over the last few days. Now everything was good. Unbeknownst to Patricia, the trap had been progressively closing up all around her. She no longer had the slightest chance of escaping.

  ***

  "What do you mean he's already dead?" asked Natalia, taken aback.

  "Yes, as soon as I saw the name I began to suspect, and the photo finally convinced me,” replied Carlos. "I'm certain that, if you take a good look, it will ring a bell for the two of you as well. That photo was put out on every television screen for a couple of weeks.”

  Natalia looked back at the picture, trying to remember. After a few seconds, he did seem more familiar to her.

  “Yes, it’s the guy who turned up murdered in his home... with a ton of stab wounds...”

  “Exactly, and the case is still unresolved,” specified Carlos.

  “I don’t understand it,” Gus stepped in. “Why would Charon go and take on the personality of a guy who is dead? In just the same way that we’ve realised it in less than five minutes, the girls could also have done the same. That’s running a useless risk.”

  “Exactly,” said Natalia. “And if in spite of that he’s prepared to take it on, it’s because it has great importance to him, perhaps a symbolic meaning. Alex must have played an important role in his life and, if we manage to find out what that was, we’ll be closer to catching him.”

  “It could be he was his first victim,” suggested Carlos.

  “I don’t know, it doesn’t fit for me,” Natalia frowned, concentrating. That small lead could have so many possible interpretations... She wouldn’t want to make a mistake. “Serial killers tend to choose a particular kind of victim. Some kill children, others prefer old people, or people of colour, or homosexuals, or young women... In spite of the fact that this could turn out to be limiting for them when it comes time to commit the murder, they do not break their rule, as it is founded in the disorder from which they suffer. Admittedly, as we still don’t know anything about his pathology, we can’t rule it out. What are we going to do now?”

  “Well, I think we ought to divide up the work,” replied Carlos. “Gus, you’ll begin monitoring to see to see if he logs in and, in the meantime, you can go along checking the chat conversations to search for any lead. I don’t think it will be just as easy as all that to lie if you’re talking with someone for a long time. He’s bound to have let something slip...”

  Gus opened up a couple of windows on the computers and puffed out in desperation.

  "There are dozens of conversation threads. It could take me weeks."

  "I'll help you if you teach me how to work the programme," offered Natalia, eager to be useful. "Besides, you would need to choose the ones that seem important to you so that I can analyse them. I might just be able to deduce something about his personality that could help us. What are you going to do, Carlos?”

  "I'll put in a request for the report on Alex's murder. Then I'll give you the post-mortem rep
ort to see if you can deduce whether the crimes were committed by the same person," she nodded in agreement. "Anyway, it's very late. Shall I take you home, Gus?"

  "Well you'd be doing me a favour, because there aren't any more trains now. What’s happening tomorrow?"

  "I'll pick you up at eight and bring you here. Natalia and I will go to work and, when we're done, we'll come back so that you can tell us whether you've managed to get anything. Does that seem good to you both?"

  Natalia nodded, and got up to begin gathering the coffee cups. Gus, however, did not look so thrilled:

  "Eight o'clock? Shit, Carlos, it's already one though... You're not even going to leave me anytime to sleep. If I'd known this was going to be so much work, I'd have asked you for sixty Euros a day. Plus, on top of that, I'm going to have to spend the entire day here alone, unable to talk to anyone..."

  “Take mine and Natalia's mobile numbers so that you can call us if you discover anything important," Carlos told him, passing him the piece of paper on which he had just written them. "And give me your number just in case it occurs to you to stay asleep.”

  "I don't have a mobile; I don't like people having me under their surveillance twenty-four hours a day."

  "Fine, as you wish, but if you're not outside your front door tomorrow at eight o'clock, I'm coming in and arresting you again.”

  They collected their jackets and said goodbye to Natalia until the following day. Once they had left, and the flat fell back into silence, she sat down on the sofa, looking all around, feeling strange. It was curious how quickly she had become used to them being there; how uncomfortable she found that lack of noise which before she had always loved. She had felt so at ease with the two of them, making plans, working together... It was a feeling she had never had before, and yet, at the same time as she appreciated it, it made her feel afraid. How long was this whole thing going to last? Wouldn't she end up losing them like she had consistently done with all of the other relationships she had had over the course her life? She sighed, and continued tidying up. The best thing would be not to think too much about it; simply to enjoy the whole thing while at lasted.

  ***

  He found himself surrounded by a dense mist, which was preventing him from clearly making out where he was. The haze shimmered, and he could not even sense the ground he was standing on. It was almost like walking along on the inside of a cloud, but the mist was warm, sticky... Carlos was beginning to feel anxious. Where was he? And most importantly, how did he get out of there? Suddenly, a whisper reached him. He could not pinpoint which direction it had come from, or from how far away. It seemed like it had been coming from thousands of miles away, whilst at the same time sounding as though somebody had whispered in his ear. He heard it again, more clearly this time. 'Over here, Carlos'. It was a female voice, sweet and very familiar, although he could not place where he had heard it before. The voice continued whispering the same words over and over again, periodically moving away and then coming closer as if carried by a wave. Carlos began following the sound and, after a little while, he was able to make out the silhouette of a woman in the mist. He hurried his pace, and little by little he approached the figure. Once he was closer, he recognised her by her long brown hair and elegant gait:

  "Natalia?" he asked, in surprise.

  She stopped and, very slowly, turned around. She stood looking at him with her magnificent grey eyes. She was smiling at him in an enchanting way, as if it made her happy that he had found her. Without saying a single word, she came closer, step by step, without taking her eyes off him for a single second, until she was just a few centimetres away from Carlos's face. Very slowly, she began to walk in circles around him, brushing him, only just, with one of her fingertips, making drawings on his chest and back. Carlos did not dare to move, or talk, or even think about what it was he was feeling. The circles that she was making around him were getting faster and, with each rotation, Carlos discovered new changes in her. At times, it seemed to him that the hair was dark, somewhat shorter... Her eyes varied from grey to light brown, the face appeared older, and somewhat more rounded... Finally he recognised the woman that Natalia was turning into: it was Ana, his beloved Ana... On recognising her, and whispering her name, she stopped in front of him, brought her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Carlos felt as the tears bathed his face. She was back there with him; he was not going to feel alone again... He embraced her tightly, trying to make that moment never end. After a few seconds, she separated herself from him, and smiled at him again, and, in that moment, began to merge into the haze. Carlos tried to get hold of her, but he could not find anything. The image was quickly and progressively disappearing, until the last thing that remained of her was the fleeting glimmer of an icy grey pair of eyes.

  Carlos sat down on the ground and hid his head in his hands. What was all that about? Had she only come back to hurt him? He felt frustrated, powerless... Once again he had let her leave without telling her how much he needed her. But, did he still really need her so much? To what point was he going to continue torturing himself with a story that had ended so long ago?

  He looked up, and found that he was no longer immersed in the golden mist. Everything was darkness around him; he could only make out the trunks of hundreds of trees that were surrounding him. How had he arrived at this forest? He got to his feet, and looked up. He could not make out the sky, the trees were so close together that they formed a canopy that prevented him from being able to see the sky. So then, how was it possible that the stars were being reflected on the ground? He began to walk with difficulty, slipping over the thousands of pieces of broken mirror. Further ahead he glimpsed at hint of light, as if there was a clearing in the forest, but the distance between the trees was very short, his clothes were catching on the low branches, and he was finding himself increasingly tired, and it was getting harder for him not to slip. Supporting himself on the trunks of the trees, he propelled himself forward and gradually managed to approach the clearing. His breathing was fast, he was exhausted, and it seemed to him that the closer he got, the closer together the trees were. He noticed his clothes, which were soaked from the humidity of the forest, and the sweat of the exertion. And, suddenly, upon pushing forward in order to free himself from a branch that had caught on his jacket, the trees ended and he found himself on his knees in the middle of the clearing.

  On more careful inspection, he realized that in the centre there was something that he had initially confused with some bushes. It was a small shape, covered in a bright yellow cloth. In that moment he realized that he knew this place; he remembered Bianca’s body, and wished with all his strength not to be there. He got up off the ground and looked all around him. The forest was completely surrounding him, dark, threatening... For a moment, he felt like a child, frightened by solitude and the night... And in that moment he heard it. He was not alone in the forest. He could clearly hear heavy breathing between the trees, merely a few short steps away from where he found himself. He looked in the direction the sound was coming from, and discerned a shadow that stood up and began running into the forest.

  Carlos could not control the fury that arose within him... It was like a flare that scorched him inside, and prevented him from thinking clearly. The only thing he could feel was rage and the desire for revenge... He began running after the killer like a wild animal after its prey. He did not realize that the trees were scratching at his face and hands; it rather more seemed to him that they were parting way for him. But the figure continued ahead of him, at the same distance, just an unrecognisable shadow in the middle of the night. And then, on arriving at another clearing, he stopped and waited for him. Carlos stopped running and slowly approached, now certain that he had him; that he was not going to escape. As he approached, he began to progressively feel an acute sense of panic. He was not able to recognise a single human feature in the figure. It was only a shadow of blackness, in which two green eyes glowed, threatening, like those of a wild animal. Th
e feeling of irrational hatred, of infinite rage that the creature emitted frightened him to the verge of paralysing all of his limbs.

  The black figure began to walk in circles around Carlos, with a set of movements that were almost feline. The circles were wide, leaving a distance of several metres between them but, whilst Carlos kept his eyes on the figure, incapable of making any other movement, he thought that it could pounce on him at any moment and tear him down. And then it jumped. Carlos closed his eyes tightly and was expecting to feel the claws on his chest. But nothing happened.

  When he opened his eyes, he found himself back in the first clearing. He could no longer sense the creature's presence. The only thing with him was the shape on the ground. The fabric that was draped over it now appeared to be covered with fresh bloodstains. Unable to help himself, in spite of the cries echoing in his mind trying to stop him from doing it, he approached it like a man possessed and reached out his hand to uncover it. It was Natalia's body, covered in blood. Carlos knelt down beside her and caressed her cheek, and in that moment she opened her eyes, but in their sockets he only found two enormous black voids that threatened to swallow him up.

  He awoke with a start. For a moment, he did not know where he was, or whether it had all been a dream. It had seemed so real... His body was covered in sweat, and his breathing was still shaky. He wondered whether he might have cried out, or whether his final shriek of horror had only been uttered in the dream. He tried breathing slowly in order to calm his heart, which was beating at a desperate rate in his chest. What had all that madness meant?

  Once a few seconds had gone by, he found himself to be somewhat calmer and more orientated, and some of the details from the dream were beginning to dissipate in his memory. He looked at his clock. He had not been asleep for very long at all, in spite of the fact that he could have sworn that he had spent hours running through the forest. He found himself considerably more tired and in pain than when he went to bed. He got up, and made his way to the bathroom to freshen up, and thus in the process expel the remaining memories of the dream, which were still floating through his mind like a fog that was refusing to lift.