Rosita's funeral had ended, but José's pain was just beginning. In the dimness of his room, he lay on the bed, his face buried in the pillow, his body trembling with sobs. The faint glow of the lamp barely illuminated the traces of tears streaming down his face.
Eliana entered cautiously, her heart aching at the sight of him.
—My love… —she whispered gently as she approached.
But José did not respond. Inside him, a whirlwind of emotions consumed him: sadness, frustration, rage. Suddenly, an uncontrollable impulse took over, and in fury, he began throwing everything within reach. The sound of glass shattering against the floor echoed in the room, along with the dull thud of books hitting the ground.
— I promised to protect her after my father's death… and I failed! —he cried out in a broken voice.
Eliana did not flinch. She knew her husband was not a violent man; she knew him better than anyone. Instead of stepping back, she moved closer, sitting beside him on the bed. With trembling hands, she caressed his back, transmitting the warmth of her love.
— It wasn't your fault, love… No one could have known this would happen —she whispered tenderly.
José's breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tried to contain the pain tearing him apart. Eliana pulled him into her embrace and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.
— I love you, Eliana… I don't want to lose you too… —he murmured, clinging to her, his voice filled with palpable fear.
— Shhh… You won't lose me, darling. I'm here… I'll always be here… —she murmured, stroking his hair gently.
Over time, José's breathing steadied until he drifted into a restless sleep. Eliana covered him with the blanket and quietly got up, closing the door behind her.
Outside, in the living room dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the window, César and Liz awaited her with somber expressions.
— How is José? —César asked with concern.
Eliana sighed, crossing her arms with a defeated gesture.
— Bad… very bad… —she responded in a quiet tone.
Liz lowered her gaze, her expression reflecting sadness for her friend.
— It's horrible to lose a mother like that… Though I have to admit, José's reaction—wanting to slaughter that entire satanic cult—felt… unreal —she murmured with a hint of disbelief.
Liz's words echoed in Eliana's mind. She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling that instant when José's rage had overflowed in a way she had never seen before. Her husband had always been an honorable man, guided by reason and justice. But now… there was something different about him. Something that unsettled her.
Meanwhile, in the world of dreams, a sinister shadow loomed over José.
Inside his dream…
It was a memory from his childhood. He saw himself, a small child running barefoot through the field, his laughter pure and innocent. In front of him, with open arms, stood his mother, Rosita, waiting to welcome him into a warm embrace.
José ran toward her, hugging her tightly.
— Mom… I'm sorry I couldn't save you… —he whispered, his voice breaking.
Rosita smiled at him tenderly as she stroked his hair.
But something was strange. Something in her voice, in her eyes… in her smile.
— My son… I know you are a messenger of God —she said, with an unusual softness—. Use this power you have to eliminate absolute evil… the Satanists… those dark sects.
José pulled back slightly, frowning in confusion.
— But that's not what you taught me, Mom… That's not right…
Rosita's expression remained serene, though a malicious shadow seemed to flicker across her eyes.
— I know, my son… But God would be happy if you eliminated those religions that corrupt the world… —her tone was sweet, persuasive.
José hesitated. Something inside him told him something was wrong… but the warmth of his mother enveloped him, made him feel safe.
— If you say so, Mother… then… it's okay… —he finally whispered, yielding to her words.
The smile on Rosita's face widened, but for a brief instant, her eyes gleamed with a crimson flash.
— That's my son… strong and brave… —she said with a pride that was not her own.
At that moment, Rosita's image distorted for a fraction of a second. Subtle horns, a wicked smirk, a dark presence looming over José without him noticing.
Lucifer had gotten what he wanted.
José woke up with a start, his heart pounding.
His mind was clouded, but his goal was clear: eliminate the Satanists.