For Dragonrouge03:57 Dec 14 2010
Times Read: 675
The Vampire.
Horacio Quiroga.
- Rhode- lawyer Himself-said. I had that cause. It is a case, quite rare this way, of vampirismo. Rogelio Castelar, a man until then normal outside some fantasies, was surprised one night in the cemetery having dragged the buried corpse just of a woman. The individual had the destroyed hands because it had removed a cubic meter of earth with the nails. In the edge of the grave the rest of the coffin lay, just burned. And as macabre complement, a cat, without a doubt foreign, lay that way with the broken kidneys. As they see, nothing the picture needed.
In the first interview with the man I saw that it must have them to me with a funeral crazy person. At the outset one was obstinate in not responding, although without letting a moment to me agree with the head to my reasonings. Finally it seemed to find in me the man worthy to hear to him. The mouth shook to him by the anxiety to communicate.
-Ah! You understand to me! - he exclaimed, fixing to me his eyes of fever. And he continued with a vertigo of which as soon as he can give idea which memory:
-To you I will say everything to him! Yes! What how was that of ga… of the cat? I! Only I!
- Óigame: When I arrived. there, my woman…
-Where there? - I interrupted to him.
- There… The cat or no? Then? … When I arrived my woman ran like a crazy person to embrace. And immediately faint. All hurried then on me, watching to me with eyes of crazy people.
My house! It had been burned, collapsed, sunk yet what had inside! That one, that one was my house! But she no, my woman mine!
Then a miserable one devoured by madness shook the shoulder to me, shouting to me:
-What does? It answers!
And I answered to him:
-She is my woman! My woman mine who has been saved!
Then a outcry rose:
-She is not! That one is not!
I felt that my eyes, when lowering to watch what I had between my arms, wanted to skip of the orbits Was not that one Maria, the Maria of me, and in a faint? A blood blow ignited the eyes to me and of my arms a woman fell who was not Maria. Then I jumped on a barrel and I dominated all the workers. And I shouted with the hoarse voice:
-Why! Why!
Nor one was only combed because the wind threw to them to all the hair of flank. And the eyes of outside watching to me.
Then I began to hear of all parts:
- It died.
- It died squashed.
- It died.
- It shouted.
- A single time Shouted.
- I felt that I shouted.
- I also.
- He died.
- The woman of him died squashed.
-By all the saints! - I shouted then twisting the hands to me. We save it, companions! It is to have ours to save it!
And we ran all. All we ran with quiet fury to the rubbish. The bricks flew, the marks fell desescuadrados and the removal advanced by jumps.
To four I only worked. I did not have left a healthy nail, nor in my fingers was another thing that to investigate. But in my chest! Anguish and rage of tremebunda misfortune that you shook in my chest when looking for Maria!
It was not but the piano to remove. There were a silence of epidemic, one enagua fallen and dead rats there. Under the piano knocked down, on the garnet floor of blood and coal, the maid was squashed.
Removed it to the patio, where they were not but four quiet, viscous walls of tar and water. The slippery ground reflected the dark sky. Then I took to the maid and I began to drag it around the patio.
They were mine those steps. And what steps! A step, another step another step!
In the hollow of a door-coal and hole, nothing more-was curled up the cat of house, that had escaped to the disaster, although spoiled. The fourth time that the maid and I happened in front of her, the cat sent a rage howl.
Ah! Was not I, then? , I shouted desperate. I was not the one that she looked for between the rubbish, the ruin and the shroud of the marks, a single piece of my Maria!
The sixth time that we happened in front of the cat, the animal bristled. The seventh time rose, taking to the dray the legs of back. And to us it followed then thus, striving to wet the language in the lubricated hair of the maid -of her, Maria, nondamn rebuscador of corpses!
-Rebuscador of corpses! - I repeated mirándolo-. But then that was in the cemetery!
The vampire squashed then the hair while it watched to me with his immense eyes of crazy person.
-Whereupon you knew then! - it articulated. Whereupon they know all it and they let speak one hour to me! Ah! - rugió in a sob throwing the head back and sliding by the wall until falling seated: But I say who me to miserable, here, why in my house I took the nails not to save of tar nor the hanging hair of my Maria!
It did not need more, as you understand - the lawyer concluded, to orient to me with respect to the individual totally. It was committed immediately. For already two years of this, and last night it has been leaving, perfectly cured.
-Last night? - a young man of rigorous mourning exclaimed. And at night one registers to the crazy people?
-Why no? The individual is cured, as healthy as you and as I. By the others, if it backslides, which is of rule in these vampires, to these hours must be already in functions. But these are not subjects mine. Good night, gentlemen.
Horacio Quiroga.
I didn't translate this someone else has a lot of Spanish stories on their site that automatically translates when you click on it. It isn't exact I don't think but gives the idea of the story. Other than that, it is my best guess.
His works are in public domain in the USA
It essentially was found here:
Felespejogotico.blogspot.com
It was attached to a babelfish translater to give it in English on the website, so there is actually a long URL that might stretch the page.
COMMENTS
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Dragonrouge
08:25 Dec 14 2010
Thank you very much! Great idea! You`re awesome!