It stank and yet there were no flies. His head was a thick soup full of cannon shots wrapped in cotton. The bed on which he slept, if you can call it a bed, was nothing more than a broken cushion on the floor covered by a filthy cloth stained by bodily fluids from who knows who.
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the boy sitting on the edge of the mattress, on his right. His skin was dark and dirty, his belly swollen by a thousand parasites, his hair black and dirty, smeared with grease and an odd gesture as he looked away towards a corner of the cubil. He left his fetal position to see what the rascal was looking at and then he saw the woman.
She was sitting on the bed at her feet. Slim, almost skeletal, with skin so dirty that it was impossible to know her real skin tone, with the brown hair tied to a stiff tail, shoulders and back uncovered, a filthy rag had to cover her breasts and leave her stomach uncovered. She was looking in the same direction as the boy.
He followed the look of the morons. He saw nothing special apart from dirt and cobwebs. The woman, apparently tired of her position, stretched her arms back, seeking support. Her right hand was slowly advancing towards him.
He looked at her hand with broken fingernails as crawled towards his crotch. As he lowered his gaze following the movement of her hand, he discovered himself without pants, his legs as dirty as the child's skin, the white boxer had long since ceased to be so. He shrugged disgusted with a sudden movement, crushing himself against the wall, the movement pulled them both out of their stupor. They looked at him.
"Blablabla, blabla, blablabla," the man listened as the 9-year-old boy said in a stupid voice. Not content, the boy came closer at centimeters from his ear and spoke "Blablabla, blablabla, blablablabla, blablabla, blablabla, blablabla, blablabla, blablabla, blablabla," humming in a mocking voice.
The woman turned. She looked at him with empty eyes without saying anything. She was of indefinite age, it could be an old woman conserved or a very mistreated young woman, she continued advancing the hand. He shrank as much as he could, fleeing from the advancing five-legged poisonous animal. He smelled the rottenness of the breath as the childish voice repeated, shouting again and again, beside his ear the rim.
"Blablablabla, blablablabla, blablablabla, blablablabla, blablablabla" stopped for a moment, the he asked even louder "Blablablabla?"
Annoyed, he pushed the rascal away from him. The boy fell to the ground with a heavy blow. He didn't move.
"Ynas maf dejunmu," said the woman.
He looked at the shapeless lump, the neck in a strange position. He looked at the woman. Confused, he looked back at the body, forever immobile.
"DEJUNM!" She screamed like a wounded beast and advanced towards him with her hands outstretched in claws.
He sat up as best he could, staggering and weak, advancing on the filth with bare feet. He dodged the woman and ran towards the door, slipping as he felt something slimy slip through his toes.
He stepped out of the room into a dark hallway, human-like lumps piled up on either side leaving little room to pass through, boxes, rags, shapeless objects swarming everywhere. He ran as far as he could down the seemingly endless corridor, fleeing the incomprehensible hysterical screams.
At his back, the screams slowly diminished until they disappeared into the distance. Tired, he slowed down, taking a watchful step. Now silence was predominantly broken from time to time by sick coughs and drunken voices, he saw couples moving with lust in the gloom, he dodged used hypodermic needles, he saw people sharing pipes, sniffing things and heating bent spoon with candles. After a good while strolling through purgatory, he saw light as he crossed a bend. He made his way there.
He was a few meters away, about ten, when the woman appeared in front of him, shouting hysterically. She hurled herself at him, running with murderous fingernails in search of his eyes. He prepared for the attack.
Protected his eyes with his forearm, bowed to receive the weight of the woman and when he felt it, he pushed with all his strength. It weighed nothing, or so it seemed. The woman shot out, hitting the wall of the corridor with a sharp blow and a crack, pieces of plaster fell off the wall and lay there, like a broken doll covered in dust. He, still nervous, dodged the body and came out into the sunlight.
It was noon; he walked through an alley full of garbage among abandoned buildings. He went out to the main street. He walked down the unknown street of the unknown city, barely dressed in a torn T-shirt and dirty underwear; other pedestrians changed sidewalks as he passed by. He walked disoriented for a while, and soon a police patrol stopped beside him.
He did not resist. He obeyed the officers when they signaled him (because he didn't seem to understand the language) to throw himself on the floor and put his hands on the back of his head, and he let himself be frisked and handcuffed. He was brought into the patrol. They drove a few minutes in silence, one officer driving and the other suspiciously watching him. The car stop and they pushed him down from the patrol, he entered guarded in a building with the hall full of policemen.
Once clean, dressed in a T-shirt and light blue pants, he was taken to a small room furnished with a small steel table screwed to the floor and three chairs. They pointed to a chair and handcuffed him to the table. They left him there, locking the door.
The detective received the linguist at the door of the station, as they walked, he began to speak:
"Two dead, a child and a woman in a drug den. The suspect is a caucasian man, green eyes, stout, 1.60, about 75 kg weight, without identification, does not seem to understand any language. We found him walking down the street after an anonymous call that told us exactly where to find him. He did not resist arrest and was docile when taken to the bathroom to take a bath. He is in the interrogation room. So we called you to see if you could manage to reach him" Said the detective to the man.
"What a strange thing, what languages have you tried?" asked the obese middle aged man.
"So far, Spanish, English, French and some German, but he doesn't seem to recognize any of them."
"Well, let's see what I can do. Is safe to enter?"
"Yes, of course, he's handcuffed to the table."
They walked through the station to the interrogation room, when they arrived, the officer waiting at the door pulled out a bunch of keys and opened the door to let them through. Once opened, he stopped and his face seemed to pale. An instant later, he took two steps back, turned and ran.
--- Written by @jcalero
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