of when he regained consciousness at times, such as lights, voices, and words that he didn’t
understand, as well as various sensations; for example, the prick of a syringe in his arm, a bandage
being pressed against his forehead, and the cold smell of the hospital. What he did remember
perfectly was the severe headache, which reached behind his eyes and bothered him a lot.
But after weeks of recovery and observation, the pain gradually disappeared. Now he was
feeling the usual discomfort again, caused by not having his glasses on. Glasses that had broken
in the fall, so he'd had to get new ones. He spent most of his days lying on his bed in the hospital
room, only getting up to go to the bathroom or stretch his legs. They’d told him that rest was
essential, especially in a case like his, so the less he moved his head and made the least possible
effort, the better.
He'd been terrified when he heard his diagnosis weeks ago. A minor concussion was serious
enough, but a fractured skull meant his life was in danger. Despite the fact the doctor had told
him that it sounded worse than it really was and simply meant that his head had split open a tiny
bit and there had been a little bleeding, it was enough for Roberto to turn pale. The first few
days the stitches that he got –three of them– burned and itched a lot, as if some bug had bitten
him, but he couldn't even touch the wound with the tips of his fingers on the bandage due to
the stinging pain that this gave him. And then there were the headaches, which kept him from
focusing his sight and sometimes forced him to close his eyes.
“You have to be more careful.” His family had come to see him, and they spent those weeks
taking turns visiting him. His older brother, a doctor, was the one who scolded him the most for
his accident. “Do you know how dangerous a head injury is? That’s why you need to always be
aware of what’s around you when you go out in the street.”
“I know. I'm not a kid, I'm twenty-five.”
“Then stop acting like one. And just when you were finally starting to work, too…”
“I don't know why you're making such a fuss.” Her younger sister, also present, came mostly
on weekends. “He fell into a hole and that's it.”
“It’s a serious problem because it can have sequelae,” his doctor brother continued, “You
haven’t felt bad since then? Whatever it is, you got to tell the doctor.”
“My vision gets blurry sometimes,” answered Roberto, "but they're going to do studies about
it."
“Blurred how?”
“Suddenly dark spots appear that move, but then they’re gone.”
“Have you already told the…?”
“Yes, I already told them.”
“That's it?” Her sister checked her phone as she spoke. “Well then. Miraculously you didn't
break any other bones. Being so resilient is your only talent, as Dad says.”
“Mom is the one who says it's his 'talent',” the older one corrected her. “Dad says it's his only
‘virtue’."
“Do you always have to correct everyone?” she replied, annoyed.
“If you and he weren't so sloppy...”
“All right, all right.” Roberto stopped them before they could continue. Those two never
agreed on anything. “Don't fight here, okay? It's a hospital. Anyways, having a strong body was
good for me, right?”
He’d been in therapy for a while to help alleviate the pain; plus, they’d done a lot of tests to
make sure there was nothing wrong with his brain or spinal cord, concluding that everything was
in order. However, they couldn't tell him anything about the black spots that he sometimes saw,
no matter how many tests he had. But since he eventually stopped seeing them, he didn't worry.
With no further answers, all the hospital could tell him was that it must be some residual
symptom of his accident, that everything was fine, and to come back if they returned.
The company in charge of that construction site covered all expenses as an apology for “not
presenting adequate security measures for the well-being of citizens.” Basically, it was their way
of avoiding a lawsuit. Roberto had not even thought of suing, and he was grateful that none of
that money came out of his pocket.
Now, his stay at the hospital was finally over. He got up early to make sure he had all his
things in order and that nothing was missing. Then he waited patiently for the doctor to arrive.
When he opened the door, they greeted each other and made small talk, before the doctor let
him go.
“You still won't be able to go to work for another week,” he told him. “This is so that little
by little you get used to your daily life again. No sudden movements, or anything that makes you
strain your eyes. Don’t stay up late or get up too early, and no alcoholic beverages. Don’t touch
the wound more than to wash it when you bathe. No hats or caps of any kind. It's obvious but
be very careful not to hit yourself even the slightest. Take the prescribed pain-relieving medicine
and continue to come in for checkups once a week. If you feel any discomfort, however small,
come immediately so we can check you out. Remember that a head injury can be a very delicate
thing, and whether you end up with sequelae depends on how soon we treat the symptoms.”
After the usual paperwork, Roberto was finally able to leave the hospital. The fresh, warm air
from outside greeted him as if he hadn't felt it in years. He took a deep breath, and with renewed
energy, he began to walk to take a taxi. Everyone in his family was working that day, so he told
them not to rush to pick him up and that they better go visit him at home once he was there.
Nobody refused.
He surveyed the city and the people around him as he kept pace. As he was always very busy
and in a hurry wherever he went, he felt that he hadn’t paid real attention to his surroundings
for a long time, but now he was looking at everything, from the clouds on the horizon, the
shadow of the trees and even the number of cars and people walking around him.
<<If I had done this from the beginning then I never would’ve ended up in the hospital to begin with,>>
The irony of his own thought amused him and at the same time left him feeling bitter. <<Well,
I still have another week without work… I wonder how my students are? I guess a substitute teacher was there
in my absence. I wonder who it was... Ah! And if it was a teacher who they did listen to?>>
Almost instantly, Roberto's mind began to fill with pessimistic thoughts: <<What if they liked
this substitute teacher more? Or if they understood their explanations better, or if their classes were more
interesting? I'm going to lose the little respect they had for me. What should I do…?>>
At that, a bug began to fly in front of his face. Roberto waved a hand in front of him to try
to scare it away, but it didn't stop at harassing and annoying him with the buzz of his wings.
Finally, he reached out and managed to smack it to the side with his palm.
Suddenly he felt extreme heat, as if he had touched a candle flame with his hand instead of a
bug. He shook it, confused, but the burning feel wouldn't go away. He tried to rub it instinctively,
as if it had hot wax on it. There was a small red mark where his skin was irritated. Had the bug
bit him without realizing it? He searched for it to see what kind it was and found it moving closer
to his face again and settling on his shirtsleeve. Instinctively he almost slapped it again, but
watching it made him forget the pain.
It was completely black and round, with a body that shone in the light as if it were metal,
perhaps the size of a bumblebee, and two small dark wings. Roberto managed to perceive four
small legs below it, but the truly strange thing was the face, or what he supposed was the face,
of the animal. It looked like a tiny skull, with a few cartoonish teeth, no jaw, and a single socket
where the eye should go. It was bizarre. It was moving, so it was definitely alive, right? But what
kind of animal was that?
Still thinking about it, the little creature flew up again until it crashed on his cheek. He couldn't
dodge it, and he felt the same burning heat on his skin. He gave a little cry as he raised his hand
to his face, and again he felt that he was burning when he touched the bug with his fingers. The
being simply continued its way after being tossed aside.
Roberto rubbed his fingers and his cheek, trying to make the burning disappear and looking
around as if waiting for someone to explain what happened. The only thing he saw was the
people who were staring at him acting strangely in the middle of the sidewalk. He adjusted his
glasses and looked down, embarrassed that he was making a fool of himself in public, and
continued on his way, now at a brisk pace. He looked at his hands a few times as he walked, still
rubbing them together. The burning was still there, just as it was on his face, but he couldn't
figure out what had caused it.
Several times he wondered if he was perhaps dreaming, but he changed his mind when he
saw, a few steps in front of him, another being similar to the bug. This one was much larger,
perhaps the size of a small dog, and although it wasn't the same shape as the small one, it was
obvious that they were of the same…species?
What the hell was he looking at?
This new being was basically a sphere with two legs. It also had something like a skull, but
with two eye sockets, pointed teeth, and a small horn, like a misshapen unicorn. Furthermore,
the mass that its body was made of slowly dripped, as if it were something extremely thick,
similar to pitch. It seemed to be eating a small bush that adorned a part of the sidewalk, as the
leaves and flowers disappeared below the teeth, and the skull moved with gestures like when an
animal devours its food.
Roberto was perplexed, watching it. Then, out of nowhere, another one appeared from his
side, reaching up to his shoulder. This one was more deformed, as if it were just a moving black
slime, with the characteristic skull, no horns, and two small arms. Roberto jumped and yelled
when he saw it, colliding with the other pedestrians.
“Be careful,” a man replied with a bitter face and a contemptuous tone.
“I'm sorry!” He was quick to apologize. “It's just, that thing…” He pointed a finger at the
creature. The man just stared, first at him and then at the place where his finger was pointing.
He scoffed.
“It's not good to drink so early,” he said, and went on his way, leaving him even more
confused.
Wasn't that man surprised to see such a creature walking around? In fact, everyone was acting
like they didn't exist. Why? Was it some kind of new trend? Had it started when he was in the
hospital, so he didn't know it? But what kind of fashion was that? What were those things?
Roberto had a head full of questions. He felt out of place, even more than usual, and for a
moment he didn't know what to do next. He finally decided to do like everyone else and ignore
everything, hurrying back to his house.
However, for some reason, wherever he went or turned around, he found those things.
Sometimes he could see them from afar, but other times they just appeared out of nowhere:
from an alley, next to him, on top of him, from a bush or a pot. Roberto spent the whole way
back scared and stressed by those creatures. He was really bad at enduring horror, and how
stealthy those beings were didn't help him, even less with that creepy look like a science fiction
monster: some had two eyes, others three, others one; some had horns, or fangs, and all seemed
to drip the same black liquid.
Finally, he reached the door of his house. He gripped the doorknob tighter than he himself
would have expected, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Took a few
seconds to calm down. He couldn't quite convince himself that he wasn't hallucinating, nor that
he was.
His next-door neighbor came out. She was a woman in her fifties, who lived with her
husband, a man more or less equal to her in age and physique. Roberto had sometimes seen their
children go in or out of their house when they visited them. Seeing her, he immediately called to
her.
“Excuse me, can you...”
The lady interrupted him when she saw him.
“Oh! It's been a long time since I greeted you, neighbor. How are you doing?” Roberto
thought about how she probably didn't know about his accident. It wasn’t surprising. Beyond
the traditional “good morning, good afternoon, good night” he had almost no contact with his
neighbors.
“I'm fine, I guess,” he replied weakly. “By the way, can you tell me what those things are?”
He pointed his finger at one of the creatures passing by on the sidewalk at that moment. It was
the size of a large dog. “Why are they all over town? It's... kind of disturbing, really.”
The woman looked at where he was pointing. She frowned.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
Roberto felt that he was holding his breath again. He quickly looked down, adjusting his
glasses, and looking for the keys to enter his house and escape from that uncomfortable situation.
“Oh no, well…” he stammered. “I'm fine. I think so. Maybe I’m just imagining things. It’s
probably nothing, surely. Sorry to bother you.”
He entered his house and locked the door behind him. Leaning his back against the
hardwood, he removed his glasses and ran a hand over his eyes. Then he rubbed his messy hair,
as if that would fix what he thought was wrong with his head. He stopped when the stitches on
the wound began to ache. With a sigh, he put his glasses back on.
“The doctor said something about sequelae. I wonder if this is... maybe I'm hallucinating?” A
knock on a window, like the sound a stone makes when thrown against glass, startled him. As
he got closer, he saw one of those creatures, the small ones that had wings, hitting the glass of
the window in his kitchen. Over, and over again. Roberto felt a small knot in his stomach. “Or
maybe I already went crazy.”
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