Under The Red Sky

This felt more like a dream, like I woke up inside a luggage and I couldn‘t breath. That was me talking to my therapist before my first work trip, because… who doesn‘t want to treat your mental health before taking a step out of the country?

My work as a journalist in a local newspaper in the city of Calgary, I started when I was young. I have a fascination for the supernatural, since I was a child, I lived in a haunted house and because those days were the 30s, it was damn difficult to witness some of the ghosts that I encounter. In the 1950s, I write about this things, among others, but mostly I‘m trying to prove that they exist, but my boss wants me to travel to Mexico and do a coverage in Lucha Libre, because a canadian wrestler is going to fight against someone there, and I guess as a Canadian, I need to cover that, because it‘s all paid for. I couldn‘t complain, honestly… 

The day that I left my apartment and have a big black luggage and the company paid for the plane ticket. I packed my camera, my notes and my big coat, I guess it‘s cold in there, who knows? I haven‘t been there, I speak some spanish, because my mom was from Venezuela. 

I board the plane and tried to stay calm. I hate to fly. I would prefer to send by train, like 5 days in a slow train, a better idea…. the best. 

After 5 hours, I landed in Mexico City, the red sky and the moon are under the clouds, the weather is nice, and the people are humble. As a journalist, I needed to explore the city, but my appointment in the lucha libre was in 3 hours. Enough time to wander around and look for something interesting to write on.

I visited the “Angel of Independencia“ and the museums, before I step into ARENA MEXICO, where the big fight is going to happen. Funny enough, the song “Lovely Day“ by Bill Withers was playing, that was kind of odd. I didn‘t pay much attention to it. Then, I‘m walking towards my seat, another strange thing that I notice is that almost all the stadium was kind of… empty? Like, this is supposed to be a big fight, why there‘s almost no one here? 

I sit down and start to take my notes out and loading my camera. Some people start to arrive, not many, but I my whole row is empty. Then, I turn my head to the left and start to smell something with Iron. Weird, maybe… that‘s a mexican smell? Dunno, I never been here. And then, the announcement came on that the fight will start in 5 minutes.

Then, some people behind me were talking in spanish, I understood some sentences, like “Vendrá por nosotros esta noche“ that means It will come for us tonight, and I started to think in that sentence a lot, and again to introduce the Luchadores, the song “McArthur“ from Donna Summer started to play, in a ring… in Mexico, that was weird. Why they don‘t put some songs in spanish? It‘s Arena Mexico, it‘s not a luxury restaurant. The orquestra also had a strange way to play the instruments, also… I found it weird that they have a full orquestra in this? I‘m confused.

And then, the luchadores came to the ring and the Canadian one that his name is MAPLE MACHINE and the mexican is LA CUCARACHA BIONICA, that literally means The Bionic Cockroach, I thought it was funny. I start to take some pictures to the crowd, to the ring, to the fight, but when they begin… I swear that i heard a big Howl, but I couldn‘t see where it came from. The Maple Machine is fightning with sweat and blood to La Cucaracha and it is intense. And then, I was going to take another picture and I saw in the distance, there is a man sitting and some fur is growing beneath him, like actual hair is coming. I removed the camera and I saw this MAN WITH HAIR. And, then I turned around and I see a couple of people turning into Wolves…? What the actual fuck? My notes went to the floor and my hands are shaking, and the people that are behind me started to grow as well, and then I turn around and see MAPLE MACHINE almost getting defeated and he saw me and said “RUNNNN“ before La CUCARACHA actually killed him with some claws and started to smell around and howl to the Moon.

I grab my camera and my notes and I‘m trying to leave, scared and hopeless. I‘m only a fucking journalist, why me? I don‘t even have hairy hair, leave me alone. And then, some of this beasts surrounded the doors, and I scream with the top of my lungs: What the fuck? Why me? And they start howling, and then I saw the backdoor and I started to run towards it, and the Maple Machine saw me leaving, he was smiling before he died, but LA CUCHARACHA starts to follow me, and then all the howling, dissapears. I turned around before I left the Arena, and no one is there. 

I go through the back alley and started to see the main street and through the reflection of the small pond in the ground, I saw this black creature going after me. I‘m fucked. I believe in the supernatural,sure. But fucking werewolves? That‘s uncanny. That‘s crazy. And then, I swear that I run like hell through the empty streets at night. I didn‘t even went to the hotel, I stopped a taxi and went straight to the airport.

I don‘t care. What the fuck just happened? Is this like a ritual trap of some sorts for young journalists? If this is true, I prefer to become a fucking painter. I would have listen to my mom, don‘t chase the supernatural. Don‘t be like your father. My dad was a …. oh wait, he was a hunter? A fucking hunter? He knew about the existence of this things. Well, I would have mind a fucking reminder about their existence, at least…

I checked everything, but then I noticed something in my arm. It had a big scratch, my skin starts to feel funny. Like I was sleepwalking, and then I saw in the front mirror, my eyes were yellow, but glowing like a beautiful spark. Then, I started to feel something in my back and saw through the window all this beautiful buildings and it became blurry. Maybe, they killed me? This is It? This is the end? I don‘t want it to end. My breath… my… 

All black. 

Today is the day, 1959, Mexico City. My new job as a young journalist, I‘m excited to cover this story. I‘m pressing my badge, loading my camera before I enter Arena Mexico, then I felt a hand in my shoulder, heavy and cold. I turn slightly around and I see this man in a long coat, he was holding to a camera, just like me. 

He said to me: “I wouldn‘t go in there If i were you“ and I said to him: “Why not?“ and I noticed that something was off about him, he was behaving like he was not a human being. 

“Some stories are meant to stay untold“ he said.  He says that as he goes through the alley and the darkness is covering him. Vanishing in the red night, and I heard a howl. I didn‘t know who he was. But, he saved my life that day. I will forever be grateful. And some stories doesn‘t need to be uncovered, he became a guardian, a protector of the night, whoever he was. He will be remembered….as a hero.