Holy Death Rising

[Silver]

Some hours later, Pedro and Alvaro were having dinner at the Rhodes cantina.

“I tell you Alvaro. That woman is La Muerte!”

“That woman is a whore that deserves pain for what she did to us all, Pedro. She isn’t la muerte. Stop being an old woman with old tales.”

Pedro sighed and grab a piece of bread.

“Santo Millán” he quickly blessed himself “foretold that Death would walk in our midst.”

Alvaro stopped eating his paella and pointed with his fork at Pedro.

“Esse santo also said that were would be a praga. Five hundred years afterwards, we are still here, yes, no food and no water, but we are here.”

Pedro raised his hand.

“Mi madre always said to follow the faith. And that has never failed me.”

“Pfffft. It has failed you of getting a mamasita.. or three. You’re like a padre, hombre. But even those score from time to time. See old Bento over there?”

Alvaro pointed the fork again, sending rice all over the place.

“Si, what about the old padre?”

Asked Pedro, while taking a bite from the bread.

“I’ve heard las senoras in the kitchen saying he was an espectáculo en la cocina and in the bakery.. And in other places as well.”

Replied Alvaro with a mischievous look.

Pedro dropped his bread with horror.
And started to scrape the inside of his mouth with the napkin.

Alvaro started to laugh and kept on eating.
But suddenly, the laughing stopped and he started to cough.

The cough became harder and it was obvious he was choking due to the paella.

Pedro ran to his side and tried to help him, but to no avail.
Slapping his back, the Heimlich, nothing worked.
More men came around to help and watch.
People ran to call for medical assistance.
The choking got worse and his face became purple.

Suddenly, Alvaro started squealing, as an effort to get some air inside of his lungs.
Pedro’s eyes widened in surprise and horror and he quickly dropped his friend to the floor and blessed himself.

Alvaro squealed and choked for some seconds more, grasping the arms and legs of those that surrounded him, until he collapsed.
Everyone around were stunned by Pedro’s reaction. One of the men started to give CPR to Alvaro.

“Que passa, senor Pedro? Is Alvaro sick with something contagious?”

The man doing CPR stopped, and took note of the vital signs of Alvaro.

“He’s dead.”

Pedro finished his prayers and looked at his dead friend.

“Senor Pedro! Que passa?”

Another man asked.
Pedro slowly spoke, his voice filled with fear.

“La Muerte.. she said he would die.. squealing.”

"La Muerte? Who..? What are you talking about, senor?”

“You all heard that la Diabla Roja is here.. Me and Alvaro were the first guards.. She said he would die.. squealing.”

Pedro quickly told what had happened hours before, as the medical team arrived at the cantina and declared that Alvaro Quintas was dead.
After he finished the tale of what happened in the prison cells, the men stood in silence, absorbing what was said.

“It’s impossible.”
Said one.
“Santo Millán was right.”
Said another.
“Santa Muerte..”
Another said while blessing himself.

“What happened here?”

Comadante Delgado asked as he arrived at the scene.

Silence was his reply.

“So?”

He looked at the men.

“Comadante.. He’s dead...”

Said Pedro, with tears in his eyes and a quivering voice.

“He died.. Squealing.. Like she said.”

“What?”

Asked Delgado, now with a very serious face. One could say, almost alarmed.

“La Muerte.. said he would die squealing.. And he did.”

Pedro blessed himself again. Some men quickly followed his move as they heard her name. Delgado watched them, with an apprehensive look.
The old priest, Bento, pulled a small book, probably older than himself, from his spartan robes and opened with the speed and precision that years of praying and reading could give.

He coughed, gaining the attention of the small crowd.

“Millán’s Words to the Desperate...

"No se desesperen. Porque ninguno de vosotros vivirá para ver a la Muerte caminando entre nosotros. Y con ella vendrá una plaga que sólo la misma Muerte podrá exterminar.
Con esto, la Muerte se tornará Santa. Santa Muerte."

The crowd had mixed reactions.

Heated discussions started about the validity of this all and soon the beginning of a fight was happening.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Delgado shouted.

“All of you, back to your duties.”

The men dispersed, with some grumbles.

“Oliveira. You’re relieved of duty until further investigación. You’ll be confined to your quarters.”

Pedro was shocked with these orders, but even so, saluted and headed to the exit of the cantina.

As finally the whole situation was diffused, Delgado looked around at the whole scene and sighed looking at the medic team handling the body of the late Alvaro Quintas.

“La Muerte... El Presidente will need to know about this.”

He thought.


-- A day later , Elder Buonocore’s office --


Presidente heard a loud knocking on his door.

"Alphonso, go away , I’ve already told Machete to contact the Outcasts!"

The elders words were answered with silence , so he continued with what he was doing.

"Ah si Josephina , that is the spot si .. I am almost-"

There’s a loud knocking on the door again.

"Just stay under my desk and continue"
Buonocore mumbled followed by
"Enter , the door’s open!"

But it wasn’t decurion Martino.
A tall bearded man wearing a priest robe cautiously entered the office.

---

[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop