Queen of Heaven

Chapter 31
Chapter 30: Escaping


“Good idea, my love. I’m not thinking clearly lately. Tell me, how can I help you?” Omar added.

 

On the other side of the door, they began to call his name—the man they were looking for.

 

‘Ohhh’ Rebeka clicked her tongue.

 

“Our friends seem to be getting impatient,” he shouted. “Didn’t you hear how they were fucking me!!!? Don’t bother anymore and go away.”

 

Omar looked at his girl and cocked his head. He didn’t think the guy in the hallway was going to leave for something as lame as that excuse.

 

‘Okay...’, Rebeka thought, still excited. ‘It’s a shame to let his semen escape from my loins, but I have no choice but to get up and get to work.’

 

As if using a sanitary towel, Rebeka put toilet paper over her intimate part before using her pants, which she had just found on the floor next to other clothes. Although the garment was in the middle of a small lake of blood, miraculously it had not stained. The pants looked like a survivor—a castaway floating adrift on a boat.

 

“What a disgusting smell! How many liters of blood would this disgusting man have to cover almost the whole room?” asked Rebeka, somewhat annoyed by the inconvenience the red liquid brought. “Love, try to find something to cover us—a sheet or something. Wipe at least the blood off your face while I look for something to wipe my feet and figure out what to do to get out of this situation.”

 

After throwing what was on top of the bed to create a path to walk on, Rebeka made her way to the kitchen, walking on the tips of her toes. She turned on the water faucet and washed her face, chest, and feet, which made it easier to take out some glass she had wedged in and could feel with her fingers. ‘My heart is still beating so fast; I feel no pain, and this all feels like a dream. What a weird feeling. If Omar hasn’t said anything, it’s because maybe he feels the same way I do. It’s crazy that I had sex next to a dead body, in front of a camera and an open window. It’s crazy that I could kill someone and feel that way, say what I said, and have done what I did. I can’t think about it; I just have to get away.’

 

As soon as Rebeka finished cleaning herself, as much as she could, she asked Omar if he had found anything and asked him to throw the shoes she had brought along with the socks.

 

After fastening her shoelaces, she took a deep breath in and then out. ‘This feeling of euphoria is wearing off. My wounds hurt already; I may still have glass in my feet, but walking is not a problem.’

 

Seeing that she could walk with her shoes on over the broken glass and blood, Rebeka didn’t have to follow the pillowy path she had made. With an idea in mind, she grabbed the electric burner before heading back to the room.

 

“Omar, help me flip the bed mattress over on top of him.”

 

The guy lay there motionless, his brains scattered on the floor, his head split open, and his neck deformed. Seeing such a scene shocked Rebeka, who quickly turned her head away and tried not to look at the place.

 

Between them, they turned over the mattress, which they let fall on the corpse.

 

 The guys who were in the hallway knocked on the door again and threatened to open it by force since they were calling someone who, being dead, did not respond to the answer.

 

“Aww. What impatient people!” complained Rebeka, after plugging the electric stove into the nearest outlet she could find.

 

The knocks on the door turned into kicks that sounded with a resounding force, to the point that Omar had a fit of rage, with which he kicked the glass separating the bathroom from the bedroom and broke it into pieces.

 

After ignoring the erratic behavior of her beloved, Rebeka began to look for her cell phone and, slyly, after closing her laptop, threw it into the bathtub water. She left the bathroom with the other things gathered inside her backpack and stopped to see if the resistance of the electric burner she had placed against the mattress caused the fire she was looking for.

 

A little smoke appeared above the mattress, then a slight fire, which, without much delay, began to grow and transform into a rising black cloud.

 

 Pleased with her achievement, Rebeka wrapped herself in the clean sheets her boyfriend had found and, together with him, went in the direction of the balcony, broke through the broken glass, and made contact with the outside world.

 

“So that’s how you got up here,” she mentioned, happy for her beloved’s achievement. ”

 

“Buildings need one of these machines to clean the windows; today is my lucky day, to tell you the truth,” said Omar, who, in a fearless and reckless way, jumped to the hanging box and, extending his hands, said, “Come on, jump. It will be all right; I will be with you.”

 

After seeing the blanket of clouds that separated the sky in two, more than six hundred meters above the ground, Rebeka looked at her boy and, with a pang of remorse in her stomach, thought:

 

‘That’s much easier said than done. The wind is intimidating and the height terrifying, so much so that it makes me feel insignificant. I have my stomach churning from the reality I am seeing. Jumping and dying becomes the least of my worries right now... Dying....’

 

 Rebeka stood on the balcony, whose smoke and burning smell were already intensifying to the point of becoming unbearable.

 

With the sheet covering her like a cloak, her breasts exposed, a pair of pants, and a pair of shoes, she looked up at the stars that made up the sky, the clouds passing below, and Omar’s arms. Between the room of the building, the sky, and her beloved, the brunette stood on the railing with her eyes closed.

 

The girl held tightly to the sheets that covered her, then took a leap of faith into the open hands of Omar, who was eagerly waiting for her. The boy embraced his girlfriend with all his strength; she was all he had, and if by any chance he lost her, he would not be able to forgive himself. Without allowing the black, toxic smoke that was beginning to billow from the balcony to affect them, Omar operated the controls of the cabin to bring it down, even if it was shuddering.

 

After climbing down the machine used by the window cleaning services personnel, Rebeka kissed her beloved’s lips with desire and prevented him from controlling the device. In a way, if having sex had made her forget that she had killed someone, kissing would have made her let go of the idea of the idea that she could die.

 

 ‘If being free is making the decision to create life, so is letting go of life at will’ Rebeka said to herself as she looked at her beloved. ‘My stomach compresses more. Living on fantasies is not good; even if we can escape, reality awaits us. What remains of our future is cruel, my beloved. From being the daughter of a murderer to being accused of murder and having a child, What awaits me is not life, but, as selfish as I am, I made you promise not to leave me.’

 

The wind beat against the windows of the building, and to the girl’s ears came whispers of words that sounded as cold as they were tentative. After continuing their downward path until the clouds covered everything, the gusts of wind took to the sky the words they brought, as if they were silent along with the young people who passed through the floating cotton giants. Before Rebeka’s eyes, the lights of civilization appeared, along with the sound of the authorities’ vehicles. 

 

‘In case everything still goes well and we survive, I would have to be a fugitive, and from uniforms, unfortunately, you don’t get very far. Omar, look at me. As innocent as I am, I would end up going to jail for a long time. Don’t keep quiet, and try to read my mind! This is the moment, maybe the only chance.’

 

With her hands, Rebeka squeezed her beloved’s back.

 

‘Omar, the wind is calling me now. Just as I came into the world, I can leave... If you don’t want to let me go, come with me. Is there anything more romantic than dying together? I want to tell you this, Omar. I want to talk to you and tell you about my suicide plans, but... it is not my desire to convince you as I always do. If I go on living, I will end up being like my father, the one I hated so much for being what he was. Now I understand that many times, behind a murderer, there is a motive to kill. With my body stained with blood, I realize... As they say, we do not learn from other people’s experiences. After so much time, a saying as old as that still has an effect.’

 

In the passionate kiss between the two bodies, Omar opened his eyes and saw tears on his beloved’s face, which made him ask:

 

“Are you okay, my love?”

 

‘No’ thought Rebeka, who answered with a contradictory smile. ‘Maybe, just maybe, at this moment I regret it because you don’t realize it, Omar!’

 

"Yes,” she replied, contradicting his thoughts. “Oh?!” After looking up, she decided to change the topic of the conversation. “The flames can come out of the window. They look magnificent, despite being covered by clouds.”

 

After reaching further down the middle of the building, the wind caressed Rebeka’s face one last time before it stopped blowing. Instead, Omar’s hands held her tightly.

 

“Rebeka, I won’t leave you,” he cried with a bitter smile.

 

Rebeka closed her eyes tightly to stop crying, but she couldn’t. The sound of fire alarms echoed inside the building, along with the sirens of the cars of the authorities and the entities fighting the fire.

 

Like ants, through the only entrance that had now become an exit, the people inside the building ran in panic.

 

 ‘Ahh, it wasn’t a good idea to come to this place. But what’s the point in regretting it? My beloved’s gaze looks like that of a small child, someone confused because he doesn’t know what he’s saying. I get a lump in my throat, but, once again, I am faced with the same question. Why go on living? No matter how much I ask myself again, I don’t have an answer. Try as I might to be grateful for what I have, I can’t find reasons. I can’t keep quiet. I have to say it; I have to speak up and be honest.”

 

Shouts could be heard in the distance, leading the crowd among the red, white, blue, and yellow lights that invaded the site.

 

"Omar,” said Rebeka. “So... why don’t you join me on one last trip? Let’s leave this life together.”

 

Despite having him in her arms, Rebeka was able to press the appropriate button to stop the descent of the elevator they were riding in.

 

“We are still at a good height; we just have to jump, and gravity will solve our problems.”

 

 Omar bit his lips so as not to cry, and without wiping the bitter smile from his face, he looked and hugged his beloved more tightly to continue the descent of the small elevator. He seemed to be looking for what to say—a way to justify so many promises that had remained unfulfilled.

 

“Everything is going well, my love... I promise to go to the hospital. We can turn ourselves in and say that everything that happened was self-defense. I really love you, and I’m not going to let you go. You asked me up there; we promised with our bodies,” the boy assured. “Besides, I’m afraid that there is nothing beyond death. Let’s spend a little more time together; let’s see your father one last time; let’s say goodbye to our friends; let’s do those things we have left to do together, please.”

 

Omar’s words made Rebeka’s facial expressions change. In a way, they saved her, since she had him and didn’t need anything else.

 

‘With plans to live, who thinks about wanting to die, don’t you? It’s a bit chaotic, but he’s all I have; he has me. I love him, and he loves me. Despite everything, no matter how low I fall in this society, he’s all I need to live.’

 

After thinking about it, Rebeka expressed, “Thank you for cheering me up—the light of my eyes. Now that the blood is running cold, it’s like it’s not me. The churning in my stomach is killing me, and I can’t stop thinking about the face of that guy I killed.”

 

“It was a traumatic experience, my love; it’s normal to feel that way,” Omar told her.

 

“You!” A shout caught Rebeka and Omar’s attention, for from the ground, a uniformed man was shouting and signaling. “Get down quickly!”

 

Before the eyes of a person who cared about the safety of others, the small elevator continued to descend until it stopped on the ground, next to an area with warnings and appropriate security.

 

“Everything okay!” the uniformed man asked, keeping his distance and ducking his head. Without giving time to let the boys give an answer, the individual continued. “Evacuate the area! It is dangerous to be near the building.”

 

The man covering his face looked familiar to Rebeka, who, being treated as a victim affected by the fire, did not think much of it and focused on following the evacuation instructions, using the route indicated to them.

 

After passing through the crowd on the main street, the girl covered herself with a sheet and her beloved, and they set out to get beyond the danger zone in the most discreet way possible. They dodged the other people because their garments had blood on them. Rebeka was naked, and any hint of being involved in the fire could bring them unnecessary trouble.

 

‘That that uniformed guy didn’t ask anything, that’s impossible,’ thought Rebeka, who thought it was too good a situation to be true. ‘That guy looked familiarhis stature, his chin, his voiceand he just let us go just like that. Could it be that sadness is eating me up inside? It’s squeezing my heart and my stomach too. Even if it doesn’t show, we are still covered by the smell of blood, so much so that it would be wiser to walk home before using any transportation.’

 

With each passing second, the adrenaline of the moment left, and Rebeka became even more aware of everything that had happened. She even began to have problems walking because of the wounds on her feet, and she tried to lessen the pain with a characteristic limp. She could not stop looking at the ground, and although at first, she labeled her boyfriend as paranoid, no matter how many questions she asked herself to dissociate her mind, she felt regretful and afraid, without understanding or knowing what to do. Added to the fact that she had no one to protect her.

 

After squeezing the hand of his beloved, Omar felt in control of the situation. He walked ahead with his chest upright and the defiant look of one who had made the best decisions about where to go. Until suddenly, he felt his girl stop.

 

After standing in place, Rebeka opened her mouth and, taking care not to dirty her boy, vomited what little food she had left in her stomach. 

 

‘I’ll be the paranoid one now’ thought Rebeka, who didn’t know how to identify between a guilty conscience and the guilt of having killed someone. ‘But, for some reason, I feel like someone is following us... When did the streets become an alley without light?

 

After taking advantage of wiping herself while bent over discreetly, the brunette looked back, and in the depths of the street, the shadow of a person could be seen sticking his body against the wall so as to hide his presence. The subject was easy to identify, even in the dark, because of the uniform he was wearing; it was the same one who had spoken to her in the elevator and showed her the evacuation route. The one who went to her house and questioned her regarding the missing cell phones, ‘Why would he follow us?” wondered Rebeka, who said to her beloved:   

 

“Omar, we have a problem.”

 

Agitated, without stopping to wipe her face or lift her head off the floor, Rebeka heard a dry sound, which for some reason brought back very bad memories, as she had heard it before. One of those moments was when Omar fell backwards and hit his head; the other was a few minutes ago, with the sound the axe made when it hit the man’s head. It was the same dull sound of a skull cracking, which she heard again between the walls of a dead end.

 

Rebeka didn’t have to raise her eyes. Though she kept staring at the ground with her eyes wide open, after reliving the sensations of a post-traumatic event, she saw Omar’s slumped body fall before her feet.

 

The hurried footsteps of some men could be heard making their presence known, but none belonged to the authorities, and the guy who was watching her from afar stayed in his place.

 

“O... mar...” Without even having time to say more or raise her gaze, a dark bag covered Rebeka’s head. The edge of the nylon reached up to her neck, and after being pulled tight by the subject twice her size, it did the work of a noose that strangled her.

 

 Rebeka moved her hands from one side to the other, making frantic spasms with her nails, trying to scratch someone’s face in order to defend herself, while at the same time trying to relieve the pressure that the bag exerted on her neck. Forced to stand up, she could not even touch the face of her aggressor, and without thinking twice, she was ready to dig her nails into the eyes of the person who was choking her.

 

Unable to breathe because of the pressure on her neck and the plastic bag that closed on her face every time she expanded her agitated lungs, Rebeka felt the full and complete force of a heavyweight boxer’s punch. The solid knuckles, like hammers, made her crash into the guy behind her and feel her face crack in several places it had not; her nose was displaced, and one of her front teeth had been dislodged, to the point where she could spit it out if she had the chance.

 

With the metallic taste of blood flooding her palate, on the verge of losing consciousness, and with no sense of direction, Rebeka tried to call out to her beloved, just to see if he was all right, but she couldn’t. She could not. For her, it was impossible for her white knight to remain without doing anything, although the last thing she remembered was seeing him on the ground with his head split and his eyes open, but without seeing anything.

 

Stunned by the blow, panicked by the tooth she almost swallowed, dazed by the pain, and unable to breathe, Rebeka felt her ability to move vanish. Between lucid intervals, she distinguished voices speaking. Her hands and legs were tied, someone carried her, and she was thrown to the pavement in a crowded place, to the point that in her fall she hit her head on something hard, perhaps an iron. A subject hit her again for no apparent reason, and another one trampled her.

 

“If she’s not complaining, it’s because she’s still unconscious,” someone said.

 

‘A vehicle... I’m being kidnapped.’ Rebeka came to that conclusion when she heard the distinct sound of a sliding door closing and the car starting to move.

 

“Inject her with the drug; anyway, I don’t want any casualties if the authorities stop us.”

 

‘Omar, Omar, Omar, Omar,’ Rebeka called out to her boyfriend in her thoughts, as she could not speak.

 

“Whoa! Whoa! Watch out for the merchandise. With that amount of dope, you should see if she still breathes once in a while.”

 

“Don’t worry, that dose is based on her weight. Besides, not breathing will only cause brain damage, and our boss expressed no objection to that.”

 

“This is the easiest job of our lives.”

 

“Yes, thanks to that guy who used the elevator to clean the glass we left installed, we didn’t have to get our hands dirty or mug any cab drivers. I was worried about how we were going to get into that building or her house without leaving much evidence.”

 

“The authorities surprised me for a moment. I thought they were going to take them into custody when they got off the elevator.”

 

“I think someone died up there. She has blood on her shoes, and the guy who was with her was not in good condition. Speaking of which, I think you killed him.”

 

 “Yes. Did you see it? I hit him with all my might, to be honest with you. If he didn’t lose his life, at least I erased all the ideas from his hard drive.”

 

Under the effect of the drug that had been administered to him, Rebeka stopped listening to the conversation going on around him and what was happening.

 

‘Oh, Omar, it can’t be true; you promised you were never going to leave me. The world is spinning. I can’t breathe properly. At least, I hope you’re all right.’

 

‘There are worse things than death...’ thought Rebeka, with no gleam in her eye. ‘Now, I’m floating in the air, a rope holding me still, face down. I can’t do anything; just breathe. My tongue was cut out, as were my hands and feet. I have one eye, one lung, one kidney, and half of my liver left. I was like this when I woke up and heard them talking. It could have been worse; at least I went through the operations while unconscious. Now, all that’s left is the pain of loss.’

  

Rebeka’s face was bandaged; her arms reached to her elbows and her legs to her knees; she was tied at the torso by a rope that suspended her from the ground.

 

‘I don’t know how much time has passed already. Hanging, not even able to make contact with the ground.’

 

Rebeka began to hum as she bobbed her head; in that way, a slight draft caressed her naked body, and it felt good.

 

‘It will probably be quite a while before someone comes back to clean me or feed me; not that I can chew or swallow, I understand they feed me through my stomach and hydrate me with intravenous fluids. I have wires on my back, so I can’t rip off what I’m wearing. The last time I tried that, something nasty happened. That person beat me nearly unconscious and then, with a rough rag, wiped me down as if I had little patience or was in a hurry. Giving me electroshocks in my head was the punishment. I have an eight-centimeter hole in my skull to monitor my brain activity. He says, I came back to consciousness when they were drilling the hole. I must think as much as I can, not to lose the answers. Remember everything; if I get out of this, they’ll pay for it, I swear.

 

Rebeka had plenty of time to think, and there was no one in the place to disturb her. The room consisted of a ceiling, solid walls, and no windows, and apart from the wires hanging from the ceiling, it was empty. But there came a time when, after so much thinking, her mind began to fill in the gaps. From time to time, she could smell the glorious aroma of baking bread, her mother’s voice, her father’s laughter, her boyfriend’s compliments, and her friends’ joking jokes.

 

In front of her loved ones, she was naked, but she felt no shame. Although she could not speak, move her body, or lift her head, among the illusions of the delirious world, she felt comfortable and only regretted not having her arms to hug those she loved or feet to walk in the direction where she was called.

 

  Rocking and humming, she remained immersed in a half-sleep, from which she woke up again and again. But every time she did, she saw everything dark and felt pain, and it was like a nightmare. Eventually, sleeping became living, and living became sleeping. While awake, she considered everything a bad dream, in which she was preoccupied with a confused reality devoid of hope, which forced her to cooperate with whatever was asked of her at the moment, in which she needed to lose her fear in order to remain calm. While sleeping, she returned to the paradise of a perfect life.

 

  Behind the panes of glass, subjects passed by with slats and sheets to fill. From time to time, they entered the room and looked with serious expressions at the numbers and the development of the experiment. Although changes were not found right away, these individuals could perceive a considerable speed in the wound healing process.

 

"Tomorrow, they can let it walk on the floor. If the wounds reopen, abort the procedure.”

 

The words of one individual caused Rebeka to awaken from her slumber, prompting her to ask herself.

 

‘If tomorrow is tomorrow, then is today today? In this nightmare, the days are passing.’

 

Rebeka heard the group of individuals leave, along with the sound of a door being closed. Alone once again, as the hours passed, she drifted back into her reality, where she had no reason to cry, regret, or wonder why on earth something like that could happen to her.

 

If it weren’t because she still had the privilege of dreaming of her beloved and believing that he was out there waiting for her arrival or looking for her, Rebeka would rather die than stop consciously breathing. As she lay awake, she felt enormous desires to be with himto go out, to fight, to defend herself, or even to beg the kidnappers for a chance to see Omar one last time and to know that he was okay.

 

After she stopped being suspended by the rope that tied her around her waist, Rebeka touched the ground for the first time in a long time. She didn’t do it directly with her absent hands or legs, but fell onto a rag. She wasn’t too curious about what it felt like to move around the place like a dog. In a way, getting up on her four limbs was painful for her, as the operations were not yet fully healed.

 

 Rebeka’s new limbs did not bleed, and although they hurt, the other wounds were almost completely healed.

 

When she was awake and the subjects with serious faces and white uniforms came, Rebeka could not find out about the investigations since, as she could not speak, no one, not even the gentlest soul in the facility, would be able to answer her question. So, when the subjects came into the room to touch her with sharp objects and give her strange food, she had to be content with listening from time to time and trying to find meaning in the sighs, the looks, and the faces they made because they didn’t even speak.

 

Later, when she had gotten used to crawling, although she didn’t do it quite right, she would go to the door along with the blanket she had on the floor, just to lie there and maybe be able to hear something.

 

“We haven’t tested the immortality factors yet, but the regeneration is two percent faster than that of an average human,” said someone who was apparently reading the tablet outside the door. That happened when Rebeka showed that her wounds stopped bleeding, while, in the opposite case, when she was injected with diseases, little by little, she heard more often one and the same phrase, which sounded disappointed: ‘Inconclusive results.’

 

‘I keep coughing, my body gets hot, I have chills, and I keep dropping snot. I also feel sick to my stomach. But in this dream world, when I walk with my limbs absent, it doesn’t hurt like before. Maybe I’m losing sensation?’ Rebeka thought,, cringing and shivering from the fever she felt.

 

Successively, and with eyes full of happy tears, she returned to her reality. The one where her boyfriend was telling her, ‘Don’t worry, love, I’m here. I promised never to leave you, didn’t I?’ In the dream, she devoured and savored the food her beloved mother had so eagerly prepared. After eating to her heart’s content, she would run to her room to lie lazily on the bed among all her dolls, read books, and watch her boy play on the computer.

 

After returning to her nightmare, a product of the minor choking attacks brought on by her medical condition, Rebeka did not even deign to open her remaining eye. She heard the sound of a bucket being opened with a plastic lid and its contents pouring over her, even though she was cold. Unable to move, she felt her blanket being stripped from her.

 

  Sick, burning with fever, and being tormented by chills, weakness, and fatigue between unconscious intervals, Rebeka listened to some comments coming from those who came to watch. On the verge of death, she heard voices again and again, saw colored lights, and stopped feeling. She heard discussions about what the next experiment would be and how the test subject should behave, and they said, “Experimental subject with electrodes on the brain, regained consciousness, and in her own way, asked on her knees to end her life. The procedure lasted a quarter of an hour, death was clinically confirmed, and her flesh still does not decompose, although the metabolism stopped working. The cells of her body are not being replaced and are still not decomposing, despite the fact that several organs are missing. She is expected to return to life in three days.”

 

‘Continue in this nightmare?’ wondered Rebeka tearfully after hearing the subjects leave. ‘No thanks; I’ve had enough.’

 

 The lights and the lack of sensation were the only pleasing things Rebeka felt. She believed that dying in her nightmare would result in being left with nothing in her reality. But her worries disappeared when her family did everything they could to make her forget about the nightmare she had woken up with. After all, the business they had was going well; almost overnight, the customers were increasing to smell how soe was cooked. The house had been expanded, two cute little dogs were also part of the family, and making money wasn’t the only thing they had to worry about. The business was closing for a month, so they could all pack their bags and go on a trip they had, naturally, been looking forward to for a long time. With her beloved by her side, friends, and family, she was going to see the world. People treated her well, and she didn’t mind giving everything she had to some homeless people. The good times came again and again, with more joy than before. Trips into space, landings on the moon, and seeing the Earth from another perspective. In his world, Rebeka discovered a great passion for music. Playing the violin for the first time made her feel fulfilled, especially when she started playing it in concerts. Her music was moving, and people kept thanking her for her talent.

 

  As if she had swallowed some salt water in the middle of the sea, Rebeka woke up in her nightmare, where everything was darkness, and she heard a voice asking her:

 

“Where do we start?”

 

Amidst the sounds of someone organizing, one by one, a group of objects, the person speaking to him said:

 

“By cleaning the skin.”

 

With a sponge and a bucket of water, Rebeka felt him wiping her body as she lay on the floor.

 

‘By what did he mean, aren’t they humans?' She wondered after feeling the result of urinating and defecating in the same place. ‘I have lost all the privileges of being a human being. Nothing I taste has any flavor, not even the ground. Without a tongue, everything is tasteless. In this nightmare, I have no tears remaining in my eyes, but I hear them.’

 

“The multi-organ dysfunction syndrome is severe; the calculations on how many cells remained intact after death were wrong once again.”

 

After listening to the subject talk, Rebeka learned a little more about what was going on with his body, which was not feeling very well. The individual often repeated his explanations to whoever followed him, as if he wanted to teach someone who was starting a new job, and because the listener did not seem to understand everything at the first time.

 

After pretending to be dead, Rebeka tried to feel less enthusiastic about what she was hearing. She was glad for the unexpected explanation of what was happening—of everything that had been done to her and the reasons for it. The truth was that, with that information, the nightmare she was living had good reasons. However, these arguments applied to her current condition and situation but did not answer something she had always wanted to know. How was... he... doing? 

 

 Once the subjects left, Rebeka remained lying down after understanding something that tore at her heart. She couldn’t sleep, which meant not being able to wake up from her nightmare. Unable to exist in two worlds at once, she wondered: how could she compensate by continuing to live, even though she knew she was another specimen of a human experiment to achieve immortality?

 

Motionless, trying not to breathe, she could not get out of the nightmare, which began to scare her. If she could not dream, go home, meet the people she loved, and look out the window into the distance, she felt that she would remember the things she had experienced less and less clearly. Her name, her family, her aspirations.

 

‘Who is he?’ She came to wonder. ‘Bad smell... liquids falling on the floor, an unstable stream of water. The sound is splashing sideways; I’m hanging. I can’t wake up; I can’t remember.’

 

Rebeka tried to speak, barely aware that there were people taking their time to watch her. They murmured in response but did not address the moans she made.

 

‘If I can’t wake up, I’d like to die. ‘I still have him. Who is he?’ wondered Rebeka.  ‘My beloved... What was your name? Who are you? Why can’t I speak? Why can’t I hate you?’

 

“Rebeka”

 

‘Om...ar?’

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

‘It was my mistake to demand so much of you and keep waiting for more. Truly, I was blissful and rich when I was with you. I want to rest eternally, so you don’t have to worry about coming back to me. Now, on the edge of oblivion and life, I understand that I have been a burden to you, something meaningless. You had a life, but I brought you here with me. Use this opportunity. Live on, for you and for me. Bury me in your memories.’

 

“If you stop believing in me, in you, in living, then what do you have left if you can’t die?”

 

‘My memories, my suffering.’

 

“It’s not your fault that life ended like this; you can’t give up hope. You can’t stop remembering that I was going to protect you no matter what. You can’t stop believing. We’re deep in this together, and it’s all good. My life wasn’t all right, and you saved me from it. Let me be the one to save you, to come and get you, Rebeka.”

 

‘O...mar...’

 

“Listen to the cry of silence; don’t think about the moment; let hell become your heaven. I have thought that maybe our lives will not return to what they used to be. It’s quite possible that we won’t even be able to experience the boredom of routine once again, Rebeka. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I really want it to be you who comes to save me. So far away and so close, I don’t think it wouldn’t hurt if you got some rest. Be strong, my beloved queen.”



Reina Del Cielo

Chapter 31
Sexo y sangre


   Rebeka no sabía qué hacer, no podía controlar su respiración, estaba asustada y no podía creer la situación en la que se encontraba.

 

   «Esto no puede estar sucediendo», se dijo. Luego de tragar en seco y respirar hondo, Rebeka procedió a preguntar:

 

  —¿Quién eres? —Pero su voz temblorosa no hizo sonido alguno, lo que la forzó a repetir su pregunta.

 

Luego de dar un paso hacia atrás y buscar algo con lo cual defenderse, la chica se envalentonó y volvió a preguntar:

 

  —¿Quién eres?  

 

  El sujeto anciano vestía un fino traje y mantenía una inmaculada barba, tenía la corbata desabrochada, como si necesitaba respirar y sostenía un vaso de licor con el hielo derretido.  Lucía tranquilo, como si tuviera todo bajo control y nada le podía pasar. Con una sonrisa en su rostro, procedió a responder la pregunta que se le había hecho.  

 

   —Yo… —hizo una pausa como para asegurarse, juguetonamente, que no hubiese nadie más en el cuarto. — Soy un gran admirador y también tu protector… por así decirlo.

 

  La palabra “protector” proveniente de alguien que claramente necesitaba tener poder y ser admirado por ella, la había hecho pensar, pero no por tener curiosidad.

 

Con tal de ganar tiempo, la chica siguió hablando.

 

  —¿A qué te refieres con protector?

 

  —Muchas personas en este mundo odian a tu padre… —dijo el sujeto, con voz calmada, para luego darse un trago, como si quisiera ser visto con buenos ojos. — Por correlación, te odian a ti, al punto en el que a nadie le importaría si desapareces. Pero estas personas han visto tu cuerpo desnudo y quieren poseerlo.

 

  El sujeto puso el vaso de alcohol sobre su pie izquierdo y levantó la mano para empujar hacia atrás la manga de su traje, con tal de ver la hora en el reloj tan lujoso que tenía.

 

 —No puedes culpar el poder que tienen el dinero y las armas, no es lo que sean capaces de hacer por sí solas, pues el problema son las personas ¿Me entiendes, pequeña? Entre los “buitres de colores”, en este imperio que ejerce su poder a través de chantajes, violencia y crímenes, existe una inmensa suma de dinero para secuestrarte, pero yo… tú benefactor, he estado trabajando duro para evitar esa situación… Bueno, después del director de la escuela en la que estabas. 

 

  El sujeto sabía su nombre, así como también hacía alarde de las facultades que tenía para ejercer el poder, que le permitía dominar la vida de otro. La situación era realmente seria, aunque podía estar mintiendo en todo lo demás, si sabía un detalle como ese y tenía la personalidad que tenía ¿Qué más podía saber y hacer?

 

  —Quiero decirte, que, si continúas trabajando bajo el sector de la “prostitución”, mi jefe y yo podremos seguir protegiéndote. Si te retiras, así como hiciste después de acosar a un profesor, estarás fuera de las manos y del territorio de esta organización. Sé que eres una chica inteligente, que sabe lo que quiere… una vida plena y sin preocupaciones, ¿No es así?

 

  —Algo me dice que quieres algo más que prevenir mi retiro o garantizar la vida que quiero —dijo Rebeka, que, por la actitud del sujeto, fue capaz de inferir más, ya que era la impresión que le daba. Después de todo, un favor con otro se paga. Y ¿Qué podía pedir un individuo que pensaba que el mundo giraba en torno a él?

 

Con una sonrisa en su rostro, el sujeto se levantó de la silla y con ojos de animal, miró el cuerpo aún desnudo de Rebeka, que estaba bajo la toalla que llevaba puesta para cubrirse.    

 

  —No soy diferente a los demás, porque también quiero tu cuerpo. Pero no pienso obligarte y deberías estar contenta por eso. Desde que te estuve mirando, me entró la curiosidad de saber lo que se siente destruirte por dentro… Eres la única en el top 10, que aún no prueba este trozo de carne que tengo entre mis piernas.

 

  Junto con sus palabras, el individuo se desabrochó el cinturón, luego el botón y por último la portañuela de su pantalón, para sacarse el miembro. 

 

  Rebeka no pudo evitar mirar aquella cosa gigantesca que tenía dos veces el tamaño de la de Omar. Terminaría en el hospital, si semejante miembro se lo clavaban a la fuerza.

 

  ¡Pum

 

  Junto al golpe sólido que se escuchó, tanto Rebeka como el sujeto, miraron hacia atrás. 

 

  ¡Pum

 

  Era Omar, quien con algo en la mano estaba golpeando el cristal que daba hacia el balcón. 

 

  ¡Pum

 

  Tan pronto el vidrio se destrozó, el joven saltó como un loco al interior del cuarto, gritando e insultando al hombre.

 

  —¡¡¡Maldito, te mataré!!!

 

  Omar se detuvo en seco, la cama era todo lo que separaba al individuo con la verga afuera y a él.

 

 — ¿¡Cómo es posible!? Maldito loco ¡Estamos en el piso más alto! 

 

—¡¡¡Te mataré malnacido!!!! —  gritó Omar, mientras lo apuntaba con el hacha que había usado para romper el vidrio.

 

—¿Así que me matarás? Ven e inténtalo.

 

  En medio de tantos gritos, Rebeka ni siquiera sabía si sentirse aliviada o no. A pesar que su caballero blanco había venido al rescate y no estaba sola, las piernas aún le temblaban y casi no podía mantenerse en pie. 

 

  Al intentar dar un paso hacia adelante, Rebeka sintió como uno de los vidrios traspasó la carne de la planta de su pie, lo que la hizo arrodillarse del dolor.

 

   Omar y el hombre se siguieron gritando, mientras rodeaban la cama. Rebeka no sabía qué hacer, pero entendía que su mejor opción era bloquear la puerta. ¿Qué podría suceder si alguien más entraba? Después de todo, en las mafias no existía una sola persona. La mejor salida era por la ventana, que seguro daría a un lugar en donde había mucha gente. 

 

  El hombre mayor, aun con su miembro en erección, esquivó el hachazo descendente que efectuó Omar y tras dar un puñetazo directo al rostro del chico, lo tumbó al suelo y lo hizo retroceder.

 

   Con las fuerzas que pudo, tras sentir cómo los vidrios se adentraban más en la planta de sus pies, Rebeka se las ingenió para derribar uno de los gabinetes que quedó justo en frente de la puerta, con tal de bloquearla, para que nadie pudiera abrirla y entrar.

 

Al voltearse, Rebeka vio a Omar siendo estrangulado y golpeado por el hombre mayor, al punto que ni siquiera se podía defender o hacer nada. Por alguna razón, eso no la sorprendió en lo absoluto, pero ella no cerró la puerta para evitar que alguien se metiera entre Omar y el sujeto, sino para que nadie se metiera entre ella y el sujeto. 

 

  Al ver a su novio siendo derribado por el tipo, que claramente peleaba mejor, una rabia incomparable invadió la mente de Rebeka. Luego de olvidar los cristales rotos en el suelo, el dolor de sus pies por el miedo que sentía o los retorcijones en su estómago, tomó una de las gavetas del mueble caído y con todas sus fuerzas, la dejó caer desde arriba sobre la cabeza del hombre que estaba agrediendo a su amado.

 

  El sonido seco retumbó en las paredes de la habitación y la madera se partió en varios pedazos. 

 

  Por instinto de protección, el sujeto dejó de estrangular al joven, para llevarse las manos a donde había recibido el golpe, mientras cayó arrodillado. Omar se separó del sujeto, respiró tanto como pudo, lo que hizo que el color de su cara regresara a la normalidad. 

 

  Rebeka supo que no era suficiente un golpe en la cabeza con una gaveta de madera falsa, que, si acaso, podría dejar al agresor atontado, pero no iba a resolver la situación. Así que la madera astillada que había quedado del gavetero, pues con otro golpe con algo como eso, no lograría dejar al sujeto inconsciente.

 

Ella mantuvo sus ojos abiertos, ya que no había pestañeado en todo ese tiempo. Además de eso, respiraba lento pero profundo, sin pensar mucho. Ni siquiera le importó que se cayera la toalla que la cubría, pues tan solo veía los movimientos del sujeto a punto de levantarse. En su campo de visión, justo al frente de sus pies, estaba el hacha tirada en el suelo, con la que su amado rompió el cristal tan grueso de la ventana de la habitación.

 

   Omar aguantó la respiración y tragó en seco, para luego ver, cómo en cuestión de segundos, su chica agarró el hacha del suelo, la levantó como hizo con la madera y golpeó la cabeza del sujeto mayor, que recién se enteró que otro golpe iba hacia él. 

 

  Rebeka usó todas sus fuerzas para bajar el instrumento sobre la cabeza del sujeto. Tan pronto el golpe conectó con sus manos, Rebeka pudo sentir cómo la carne se abría paso, pero los huesos se mantuvieron firmes, lo que provocó que sintiera una vibración incómoda.

 

 Debido que el hombre aún se cubría la cabeza, los ocho dedos principales salieron volando con el filo del hacha que llegó a hacer contacto con el cráneo. El sonido seco fue preocupante.

 

 Luego de gritar como si no pudiera creer lo que estaba pasando, el hombre perdió el equilibrio y cayó de frente al suelo, lo que le hizo usar sus manos para no caer de frente sobre los vidrios. Al ver sus dedos ausentes y la sangre que bajaba de su cabeza goteando entre sus manos, trató de arrastrarse, mientras pedía clemencia. 

 

  Rebeka volvió a levantar el hacha, esta vez salpicando las paredes del cuarto junto a la piel de su cuerpo desnudo. Tras poner un pie sobre la espalda de quien al principio fue su agresor, ella efectuó otro golpe con el afilado pico del hacha contra el cuello de quien se arrastraba, pero no le provocaron la muerte.

 

  Tres golpes de una débil chica no fueron suficientes para acabar con la vida de un hombre corpulento y fuerte como ese tipo. Luego de entregarse a sus instintos, Rebeka volvió a levantar el hacha y golpeó varias veces, hasta que la sangre y las entrañas de su víctima se dispersaron por el lugar. 

 

  Con cada golpe que daba, Rebeka veía a la sociedad y a los hombres que se querían aprovechar de su cuerpo, por ser débil.

 

  —¡Rata! —gritó la chica—. Estás a mis pies ¿Qué se siente morir como un perro? 

 

  Ella quería seguir gritando, dejar salir toda la furia que había acumulado por tantos años, pero no podía dejar de respirar, por lo agitada que estaba, mientras golpeaba al hombre una y otra vez con el filo del hacha. Sin ni siquiera poder levantar el arma completamente, los golpes continuaron, aunque las manos le dolieran y se lastimara al seguir aguantando ese instrumento. 

 

  El cuerpo que no paraba de retorcerse, finalmente dejó de respirar o hacer sonidos con su garganta. 

 

  —Amor… —dijo Omar, sentado en el suelo, tras aguantar su cabeza con las manos.

 

 Rebeka escuchó el susurro de su chico. 

 

 «Aww, quiere hablarme, pero yo no quiero escucharle, si es una disculpa lo que tiene que decirme». Como si el tiempo pasara con lentitud, tomó el aire necesario y miró a su chico cubierto de sangre. «Aun viéndole en un estado tan vulnerable como este, no puedo dejar de amarle y de sentirme como en el primer momento, recordar que mi amor por él es tan montaña rusa como siempre. Aunque sus acciones hacen que me sienta decepcionada, tan pronto entiendo que todo fue un malentendido y que él es el chico perfecto, hace que me sienta más enamorada».

    

  —Amor —dijo Omar levantando su cabeza, sentado en el suelo—. Te ves maravillosa, gracias por salvar mi vida.

 

  Sobre un cuerpo que aún dejaba salir sangre caliente, Rebeka no pudo evitar ser electrocutada por la sensación de estar excitada. Las palabras de su amado accionaron una extraña sensación en esa parte de ella, que en otro momento, probablemente la hubiera hecho caer de rodillas y perder el control. Aun así, aunque sus piernas no le respondieron, sus manos fueron en busca de su zona más íntima, en frente de ese, que no fue egoísta en ningún momento y siempre la dejó llegar al clímax primero.

 

 —Asegúrate siempre que tus ojos nunca dejen de verme linda —dijo Rebeka, más como una advertencia, pues se sentía poderosa e imparable.

 

  La cara de su novia era la misma que ponía siempre que estaba a punto de tener un orgasmo, pero, por alguna razón, no podía. Luego de dejar todo atrás, el joven se levantó de donde estaba y con sus brazos abiertos envolvió en un fuerte abrazo el cuerpo tembloroso de su chica.

 

  Rebeka dejó salir lágrimas, pero no eran de miedo ni de dolor, eran de felicidad, de todas las cosas por las que estaba agradecida y por tener al mejor novio del mundo. Ella se lo dijo en voz alta, a gritos, con todas sus fuerzas e hizo que se marcharan las angustias que le retenían. En medio de sus lágrimas, le juró que lo amaba con todo lo que tenía y aunque sus palabras dejaron de ser entendibles, sus lágrimas hablaron por ella.

 

  La chica pasó de creer que podía con todo, de tener envuelto a su cuerpo en una coraza de acero, a volver a quedar desnuda y dejarse ver como realmente era. Para ella, ese era el secreto de una pareja.

 

  Cuando las lágrimas y el llanto dejaron de fluir, la pareja se besó con fuerza. Aún abrazados, entre vidrios y sangre, dieron la vuelta en el mismo lugar, como si estuvieran en una especie de baile de salón.

 

  Con la intención de no seguirse lastimando, Rebeka se paró sobre los zapatos que su novio tenía puestos y bajo el sonido de los vidrios al ser pisados en el piso, Omar caminó por el lugar dando pasos básicos que terminaron en vueltas, con movimientos circulares que abrieron camino a la cama.

 

   Sin inseguridades ni falta de confidencia, ambos florecieron y buscaron sexo entre sus cuerpos ensangrentados. Tal vez separados fueran una cosa, pero juntos, eran algo completo.

 

   En la situación tan enferma en la que se encontraban, Omar bajó su mano hasta llegar a las piernas de su amada y efectuó los movimientos que su chica necesitaba para venirse. Rebeka no se resistió en lo absoluto, se entregó a la sensación, al momento, al presente, a la oportunidad de acabar y borrar de su cuerpo el recuerdo de haber podido ser violada.

 

  — Amado mío, aunque tus ojos no sean los mismos, aunque tu comportamiento, príncipe de mi soledad, sea aún más salvaje y desesperado, aun así… porque te pertenezco y me perteneces, fóllame con toda tu intensidad. ¡Con tu mano no será suficiente, Omar! Si tanto me amas, no te atrevas a dejarme atrás, porque nunca lo haría contigo.  

 

  De rodillas sobre la cama, el joven se desvistió tan rápido como pudo y aunque su miembro estaba bien lejos de estar en erección, Rebeka no dudó en ofrecerle una entusiasmada felación. 

  

  —¡No voy a controlar mis gritos, no me negaré a expresar cuánto te amo! —vociferó Rebeka, mientras se puso en cuatro sobre la cama, una vez el miembro de su chico estaba lo suficientemente erecto para proceder con el acto.

 

  —Si todo lo que tengo para entregarte es amor, entonces te lo daré tan duro como pueda.

 

Con solo una embestida, el joven clavó su ser hasta el interior de su chica, quien no se limitó a gemir y gritar tanto como pudo.

 

  Aguantándose a las caderas de Rebeka e impulsándose tan duro como las fuerzas de cada músculo de su cuerpo se lo permitía, Omar llegó a desplazar la cama del lugar en el que estaba, con el vaivén de sus movimientos.

 

  «Me está dando tan duro como puede», pensó Rebeka, quien todo lo que podía hacer con su boca era gritar frenéticamente, además de usar la fuerza de sus manos y piernas para empujarse hacia atrás, con tal de hacer que su chico la penetrara más y más duro. «Sí, así. Golpea tus caderas contra las mías, no te contengas, muéstrame tu risa enferma, que te mostraré la mía, reiré a carcajadas en dirección al cuerpo del hombre que quiso poseerme, pero no pudo».

 

  —¡Vente en mí, Omar! ¡Lléname con tu leche, hasta que ese líquido hirviente golpeé el final de mi vientre y se vuelva espuma en mi vagina, de lo duro que me des! Vente en mí, insemíname, hazme un hijo… que no importen las consecuencias, que el futuro se vaya a la mierda.

 

  —Tus deseos son órdenes, mi reina —dijo Omar, quien no aminoró el ritmo de sus embestidas y a pesar de estarse viniendo, sacó las fuerzas necesarias para seguirle dando, hasta que el semen que había eyaculado se convirtió en espuma, justo como se lo pidió Rebeka.

 

La chica escuchó el grito de su novio, el rugido de un guerrero que se negaba a caer rendido en batalla. 

 

Una vez el miembro de Omar se volvió tan flácido que se negaba a entrar donde debía, fue que el chico se detuvo.

 

  Sobre la cama, en el último piso de uno de los hoteles más lujosos del centro de la ciudad, estaban dos cuerpos agitados, fundidos en uno, embarrados por la sangre de un enemigo, entre sudor, fluidos, silencio, vidrios y un muerto en el suelo. Rebeka pudo escuchar el inconfundible sonido que alguien provocó al tocar la puerta de la habitación con discreción. 

 

  Tal vez el grito de su chico fue el problema. Una voz no familiar de otro hombre, podía alarmar a quien estuviera vigilando la entrada.

 

Luego de regresar a la realidad, Omar rompió la conexión entre su chica y él. Sin estar haciendo su función de tapón en las entrañas de su novia, todo su esperma salió como si fuera una cascada.

 

  Rebeka siguió con sus caderas levantadas y la cola empinada, para facilitar la fecundación y mantener la sensación tan morbosa que la excitaba. Pensó que ser libre, en cierto modo, significaba tener la decisión de crear vida propia. Cuando vio a su novio sentándose a un costado de la cama, aceptó que el acto reproductivo no continuaría más.  

 

Aún con los zapatos puestos y el pantalón por debajo de las rodillas, Omar se sentó en el borde de la cama, al lado de su chica y luego de eso, se llevó las manos a la cabeza, como si le doliera tanto, que no podía pensar con claridad. Se inclinó hacia adelante, para notar que la puerta estaba bloqueada, lo que le proporcionó un poco de calma, con respecto a la situación que tenían.

 

 —¿Qué hacemos? — preguntó él.

 

  «Oh, el semen aún caliente se escurre dentro de mí, lo puedo sentir. ¿Por qué tiene que venir alguien a tocar la puerta en un momento como este?»

 

  Para Rebeka la situación pintaba mal. Todo era un desastre, no tenía ropa, estaba bañada en sangre y aún había un cadáver en el suelo. Aunque pudieran escapar no llegarían muy lejos. Luego de regresar al presente, dejó de poner sus ojos en blanco, para levantar el torso de su cuerpo en la cama y mirar hacia atrás. «Sí, ahí está la cámara de mi laptop, grabando… ¿Qué puede ser peor?»

 

Después de mantener la calma y disimular, para que su chico no se diera cuenta del dispositivo que se encontraba en la repisa en el baño, Rebeka manifestó: 

 

  —Debemos marcharnos por la ruta que usaste para venir, es mejor si algunas personas nos ven, además, si usamos los pasillos, dudo que lleguemos a los elevadores. Antes de salir, es mejor prenderle fuego a la habitación. El humo hará que se dispare el sistema antincendios y el agua podrá borrar nuestras huellas, atraerá a las autoridades y nos dará un poco más de margen para salir de aquí.