Chapter 5: Bargains_Tenebroso The Midnight Rider

In the shadow of dawn, amidst the serene embrace of nature's silence, Javi found himself at a crossroads of solace and turmoil. His reflection, distorted by the ripples of the river, offered a stark reminder of the relentless passage of time and the toll it exacted upon his weary visage.

He needed a shave.

Tenebroso, the lurking specter that tangled with his soul was silent. It rarely made itself known under Hil’s light of day. He had not been surrounded by the remnants of carnage when he awakened this morning. It was a rare respite, a fleeting moment of tranquility amidst the chaos that perpetually besieged him. Even during this brief pause, his face displayed the lasting reminders of his challenging journey and the fights he engaged in.

The allure of civilization beckoned. A shave, a bath, a hot meal. They were tantalizingly close yet agonizingly out of reach. Arroyo de la Miel, with its promises of comfort and respite, whispered seductively in the wind. But fate, that cruel mistress, had woven a tapestry of obligation and duty around him, binding him to a path fraught with peril and uncertainty.

With a weary sigh, Javi stood, embracing his chosen path and relinquishing the comforts of civilization in pursuit of his quarry. Ignacio de la Cruz awaited him in the southwest. A name associated with Sombra and a harbinger of chaos and unrest.

He could rest when de la Cruz was dead.

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The day's journey had been long and wearisome, the rhythm of hoofbeats echoing in tandem with the relentless march of time. As night draped its somber cloak upon the world, the distant flicker of civilization beckoned like a solitary beacon in the darkness.

Yet, with each step closer to the sanctuary, another specter emerged from the shadows, haunting the periphery of Javi's consciousness.

"Slim pickings here, flaco," the voice in his head taunted.

Javi glanced skyward. Hil’s bright ball of light was no longer present in the sky. Tenebroso was awake.

He bristled a moment, a flicker of defiance igniting within his weary soul. "I can't ride through the night," he retorted, his words tinged with weary resolve. "Justice may be tireless, but my body needs rest."

The disembodied voice scoffed, its disdain palpable. "Bah! Sleep on the horse. It knows where we need to go next."

But Javi remained steadfast, his determination unwavering in the face of temptation. "No," he declared firmly. "I want to spend at least one night in a bed. We may not find another village or town between here and Canales."

The voice persisted, a venomous serpent in Javi’s thoughts. "Whatever flesh-sack. Do your little shopping trip, and sleep in your comfy bed. Never mind that your wife’s killers are still out there. Never mind that they brutalized her because of your cowardice. Justice can take a siesta. Sure."

The words cut deep, a reminder of the pain and guilt that gnawed at Javi's soul. But he refused to be cowed. "You can go fuck yourself," he spat, “I need food. I need rest.” he felt the road weariness in his bones, "I'm not you, nor would I want to be like you."

“You’re just a spirit.” Javi proclaimed.

Tenebroso was silent for a moment before speaking again. You're wrong.

“Oh really? Educate me then, Hitchhiker.”

A chill crept across Javi’s body in response to the word. “I am righteous Vengeance given form, Flaco. Not some frail Spirit to be bound or exorcised, commanded, or controlled. I consume the evil of this world, and in doing so identify others worthy of my attention. Isn’t that right, Tina?”

Before Javi could reply, his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a tumultuous wave of pain and fear that filled his mind. Javi's consciousness started to fade as he heard agonized cries and his grip on reality weakened.

“Fu…fu…fuck you,” he struggled to say aloud despite the wailing in his mind.

"What did you say to me?" said an older man.

When he emerged from the depths of his torment, Javi found himself ensnared in the mundane trappings of the waking world. Blinking away the haze of confusion, he realized he stood before a small town, its inhabitants casting wary glances in his direction.

Forgive me, senor," he murmured, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I... I fell asleep on my horse."

The older man regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and amusement, his brow furrowed in mild consternation. But as the truth of Javi's weariness became apparent, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Look at the boy," he chided his companion. "He's exhausted, and gods know how long he's been riding."

Turning his attention to Javi, the man extended a hand in greeting. "Where were you headed, son?"

Javi's weariness gave way to relief as he met the man's gaze. "Canales, and eventually Lugo," he confessed. "My name is Javi Garcia."

Garcia now? Cervantes, Delgado, or Guzman weren't enough. Just stick to one name, idiota!

Ignoring the taunts of his unseen tormentor, Javi offered the man a grateful smile. "Is there an inn by chance? Just looking to stay the night."

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The man's smile widened into a grin of genuine warmth. "It just so happens that you are looking at the owner," he declared proudly. "Consider your meal on the house, my friend. Welcome to San Felipe, our little paradise."

In the dimly lit sanctuary of the inn, Javi found solace in the steam and suds of his overdue bath. The water, hot and inviting, worked its magic upon his weary frame, easing the knots of tension that had taken residence within his muscles. Yet, even as he surrendered to the blissful embrace of relaxation, the specter of Tenebroso lingered like a shadow upon his thoughts.

Technically, it was all blood money. Every coin spent on the road was a grim reminder of the cost of his solitary crusade against the forces of darkness. Despite the creature's constant criticism and mistreatment, Tenebroso reluctantly accepted that they needed worldly possessions for their journey. Money, harvested from the pockets of their ill-fated victims, served as their lifeline in a world where justice came at a steep price.

Javi was able to enjoy a hot bath because of Wolfram's success. He paid for it with a few old coins and an arrangement with the innkeeper, Navarro.

Javi enjoyed the warm water, but he expected Tenebroso's venomous tirades to interrupt his relaxation. To his surprise, the creature remained silent, its absence a disquieting omen of things to come.

Emerging from the water, Javi confronted his reflection in the mirror. He half-expected to find the hollow visage of his spectral companion staring back at him. However, there were no scary signs or glowing red eyes—just his tired face, marked with the scars of many battles lost.

With relief and caution, Javi shaved and brought back some normalcy to his chaotic life.

Contentment settled over him like a heavy blanket as he retired to his room. The absence of Tenebroso's scathing voice was a welcome reprieve tonight. With a weary sigh, he piled into his bed and surrendered to the embrace of sleep.

The bar exuded a deceptive sense of comfort, its quaint charm masking the oppressive weight of unreality that now ensnared Javi. As he attempted to rise from his seat, realization dawned upon him; he was stuck. His movements were as futile as the flapping of a trapped bird's wings against a cage of dreams.

Panic surged within Javi, tendrils of fear coiling around his heart as he struggled against this prison. But before despair could fully take root, a chilling presence made itself known, its icy touch a familiar harbinger of impending doom.

Turning his gaze, Javi beheld the haunting visage of Tenebroso, a specter of darkness seated across from him in the dim recesses of the booth. A bony finger pressed against lipless lips, silencing any protest that threatened to escape Javi's lips. "Shhh... I love this part," the creature whispered and gestured toward the bar.

Javi’s perspective shifted as can only happen in dreams, and he found himself looking out from the bar.

Fausto Mendoza. That was the name of the man at the bar. A figure worn by the ravages of time and circumstance. How old was he then? Fifty? Sixty? He couldn’t remember. He looked tired and rail thin. Like a man who looked like he had never stayed in one place for long.

He was talking to his glass and muttering incoherently.

Javi briefly thought of his reflection in the river. How far away was he from that?

"...please, I am done.” Fausto pleaded. “We have done all that we needed to, perhaps more. You do not need me anymore. I'm useless like you said—a waste of skin and breath in this sorry world. Please, just let me go." Although Javi couldn't see it, he knew who the old man was talking to.

"Are you alright, sir?" said a familiar voice. Javi's eyes followed the sound, and there he stood, or rather Javi's younger self. Lean and fresh from being AWOL. Foolish and innocent. Javi wanted to call out to himself. He wanted to scream at him to run away. But this was a dream. A memory, and he could do nothing but watch the scene unfold.

Tenebroso mocked, saying, "You both acted like children, trying to outdo each other with sad stories about your fathers." It lifted its index finger and made a circle in the air. The scene sped quickly. "Let's get to the good part."

"This... this power. Can I… will I, you know… make them suffer?" the younger Javi asked as he struggled to compose a single sentence.

Fausto nodded his head vigorously before taking another sip of his beer. In this memory, Javi noticed that the old man had only drunk one full beer and had been nursing the one in his hands the entire time. Looking at his younger self, he saw six empty cups with a seventh in his hand.

The old man never stopped buying Javi drinks that night.

"Alright, okay, sir. What do I have to do?” his younger self asked.

“Pay the bill, and meet me outside,” Fausto said as he went outside.

Javi watched as he paid, and then the scene shifted. It was dark outside, and Lune was absent in the sky. Fausto stood near a tree at a crossroads with a smile. Javi watched his younger self stumble but quickly corrected himself.

Leaning against the tree, the younger Javi asked, “So this power, for ven… for justice. How does it work?”

“Each night when there is no moon in the sky, He will come. He will destroy the evil and sinful. He will give the innocent hope and the guilty terror. He is Tenebroso…” Fausto said.

Javi’s solemn face held for a moment before breaking out in laughter.

Fausto’s face went red, “MIRA PENDEJO!”

Young Javi found himself no longer laughing but staring at the old man in disbelief and terror. Half of the face was the old and familiar skin of Fausto Mendez. The other half had melted off, revealing a terrible skull bearing a glowing red eye.

“Do you wish vengeance for the one you lost? Do you wish to bring pain and terror to the ones who did so to your kin? Then take my hand and say these words!”

Javi the Younger extended his hand, and without hesitation, Fausto sliced into his palm. Before Javi could object, Fausto seized his bloodied hand in a vice-like grip. “Repeat after me…,” the old man intoned, his voice a chilling echo across the dark night.

Javi the Present turned his gaze away from the moment when his life changed.“Why are you showing me this?” he asked.

Tenebroso’s eyes dimmed with their red glow, casting eerie shadows upon the walls. “You gave your name and life to me, Javi Alejandro Mateo Castaneda. You are as much of mine as I am yours. I am the tool for your enemies' destruction as I was for Fausto Mendez, Jose Beltran, Elena Sánchez, Tomas Aguirre, and countless others. I am not some perro you feed a few times a month. You do not control me… I OWN you.”

A black leather collar suddenly appeared around Javi’s throat. It was tight. Javi reached up and began tugging on it, trying to pull it off. It would not budge.

“You gave me a task, and I will finish it, Javi Alejandro Mateo Castaneda. Enjoy your comforts when you can, but understand you enjoy them because I allow it. Do you want better rest? Do you want peace? Then find me murderers. Let me feast on the wretched, and you will have peace… but never forget, I hold your reins!”

With a snap of the wrist, Tenebroso pulled on the collar, yanking Javi forward. Javi struggled and pulled as he felt the leather tightening and cutting off his air. He tried aimlessly to reach across the table at the smiling skeleton. Clawing for freedom as the collar bit into his flesh.

The pain was what broke the nightmare. It was enough to wake him as his head hit the floor. Luckily for him, the bed wasn’t too high, so the damage was small. He would have a headache today, but nothing more.

Tenebroso's laughter echoed within Javi's skull. With the first rays of morning light filtering through the windows, Javi knew that the creature's departure was imminent.

Forcing himself upright, Javi steeled himself for the trials that lay ahead, his mind already turning to the journey that awaited him. With a weary sigh, he began to prepare, his movements methodical and determined as he readied himself to face the awaited challenges.

After a quick breakfast and a polite thanks to Navarro, Javi found himself on his horse once again. The stable hand looked at him strangely, “Senor… is there anything wrong with your horse?”

Javi just smiled, “He’s a bit sick. Bad grass yesterday, so he tends not to eat or drink much.” It was a rote answer he had given times before. The horse was… unreal. That was the simplest explanation. It was Tenebroso’s, and the creature did not eat or sleep. It simply just was.

The stablehand accepted the explanation, “A word of warning, senor, there is a crossroads before you get to Lugo. Make sure you are past that before dark.”

“Why,” Javi asked, his heart quickening with unease.

“Tenebroso senor… they say he stalks the crossroads. He tempts you with gold for your soul.”

Despite the laughter in his head, Javi nodded, “My thanks,” and urged his horse southward, toward Lugo, the warning of the crossroads lingering in his mind like a shadow.

Chapter 5: Bargains

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