Some say that since we are born our destiny is already written, other defenders of the free will professed by God in the biblical scriptures, assure that each person has the possibility of changing, but how true is this? We will see it in a young man forged in Nazi ideology during wartime. Enjoy the third installment of the Stories from the Old Notebook: A Dark Message at Christmas.
Foto de cottonbro studio Image with own edition from a free source
ESPAÑOL
En el frío invierno de 1939, la población alemana estaba totalmente aterrorizada por el inicio de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, razón por lo cual, muchas personas decidieron alojarse con sus familiares durante las fiestas navideñas en los campos lejanos a Berlín, intentando evadir los horrores que suponía el avance del ejército hacia otros países y los inminentes bombardeos, que traería consigo la llegada de la aviación de los aliados.
Bertram, es un común niño alemán de bajos recursos, pero con sus distintivos rasgos arios que lo hacían un fuerte candidato para las filas militares de Hitler por su cabello rubio, refinado perfil y brillosos ojos azules. Él, es uno de los emigrantes que junto a su pequeño hermano y madre, se aventuraron a emprender el viaje de huida, puesto que su padre, un ferviente idealista del Tercer Reich, los había abandonado uniéndose a los combates en Polonia.
Desde pequeño, Bertram resaltó por encima de los otros niños, su altura y corpulencia fornida lo hacían el blanco de bromas y burlas cuando lo comparaban con los antiguos vikingos, cosa que poco a poco lo fue convirtiendo en malvado, no solo por el odio especial que surgía desde su interior, sino por la forma en que disfrutaba la furia que se apoderaba de su cuerpo cuándo le hervía la sangre y molesto, arremetía sin piedad contra todo aquel que se atravesara en su camino como el mejor de los asesinos, heredero de la raza de Caín.
Ya para inicios del último periodo de la escuela, el enorme pueblerino que habitaba en la ciudad capital tan solo por las influencias políticas de su padre, es el niño más despiadado y agresivo del colegio, lo que llenaba de orgullo a su progenitor quien constantemente lo incitaba a proseguir con sus fechorías, con el objeto de crear una reputación que lo hiciera entrar sin problemas a las filas de las S.S. cuando tuviera la edad necesaria. Cosa que lo diferencia ampliamente de su pequeño hermano, quien es un niño noble, amable y cordial, bastante parecido a su madre y sin una pizca de maldad.
Durante el atardecer de aquel 21 de diciembre, día del solsticio de invierno, la familia emprendió el viaje a casa de los abuelos, en un pequeño Volkswagen bajo una feroz tormenta de nieve. A pocos kilómetros antes de llegar a su destino, la madre decidió hacer una parada y el pequeño Michael pidió ir al baño en la parte de atrás de la gasolinera, por lo que Bertram fue obligado a llevarlo de mala gana, maldiciendo y gritando improperios, por tener que servir de niñera.
Aprovechando que la tormenta había amainado y tratando de estirar las piernas, este violento personaje dejó solo a su hermano en el baño y se fue a dar un paseo por las áreas cercanas, pero al regresar al lugar a buscar a su hermano, no pudo encontrarlo. Un sentimiento extraño le aprisionaba el corazón sumergiéndose en el desespero de entender que era su responsabilidad, el miedo se apoderó de él, sabiendo que tendría que rendir cuentas a su madre por lo sucedido y sin ni siquiera una pista de que había pasado. Mientras tanto, un nauseabundo olor como a licor y carne podrida se apoderó de todo a su alrededor.
Foto de Victoria Akvarel Image with own edition from a free source
Los nervios comenzaron a posicionarse en la mente del joven bravucón, mientras el tiempo continuaba avanzando entrecortando su respiración en medio de la gélida brisa que empezaba nuevamente a enfurecer, pero algo en su interior despertó un sentimiento aún peor, era un pánico inexplicable que carcomía su mente y desesperaba su espíritu.
De repente la tormenta de nieve regresó con mayor intensidad congelando todo a su paso, a lo lejos, desde lo profundo del bosque, alcanzó a escuchar el sonido de unas cadenas arrastrándose junto con unos cascabeles y entre la niebla blanca, apenas pudo ver la silueta de un hombre alto de traje rojo oscuro y con un saco al hombro, que caminaba con dificultad entre la fiera ventisca.
— ¿Santa Claus?
Pensó al principio, gritando en un sonido que se desvaneció por el aire como un eco, pero luego se sintió como un tonto, al suponer que aquel extraño podía ser Santa, ya que él siempre dudó de su existencia y lo tildó como una historia para niños imbéciles, además nunca lo había visitado, ni mucho menos le había traído un regalo.
Tan pronto logró aclarar la vista y los pensamientos encontrados en su cabeza, desechando por completo cualquier ilusión de bondad o alegría navideña, pudo darse cuenta de que el monstruo ahora estaba parado de frente, mirándolo fijamente con unos ojos perturbadores hinchados en sangre sobre un rostro asqueroso de barba gris, pegajosa y sucia, el traje del espantoso personaje se mostraba rasgado y lleno de manchas de porquería como si fuera un indigente, su piel estaba arrugada y seca, se veía como verde o más bien marrón oscuro, de su cabeza brotaban unos extraños cuernos enroscados entre los que se sostenía el sombrero de colores de un bufón.
El fornido prospecto de soldado alemán estaba paralizado, el miedo hacía temblar hasta su última fibra interna, mientras que el orine empapó los pantalones de lana gris que llevaba puestos, lágrimas de horror brotaban de sus ojos congelándose sobre un rostro agrietado y enrojecido. Finalmente, la macabra figura del demonio navideño empezó a reír a carcajadas sarcásticamente con una voz cavernosa llena de maldad que se escuchó en todos los alrededores, dejando ver grandes hileras de dientes afilados.
Extendiendo un largo dedo huesudo, la abominación le señaló hacia el piso mostrando una afilada garra, allí podía leerse un mensaje escrito con la sangre roja y caliente de su pequeño hermano sobre la blanca nieve, que decía:
¡El infierno te reclamará! Krampus.
Imagen de Nicky en Pixabay Image with own edition from a free source
Esta historia es ficticia y no representa a nadie en particular.
La Investigación, Redacción e Historia es contenido original de calidad creado por @susurrodelmisterio para HIVE.
Todos los Derechos Reservados
© Copyright 2022 Susurro del Misterio
ENGLISH
Stories from the Old Notebook: A Dark Message In Christmas.
Some say that since we are born our destiny is already written, other defenders of the free will professed by God in the biblical scriptures, assure that each person has the possibility of changing, but how true is this? We will see it in a young man forged in Nazi ideology during wartime. Enjoy the third installment of the Stories from the Old Notebook: A Dark Message at Christmas.
In the cold winter of 1939, the German population was totally terrified by the start of World War II, which is why many people decided to stay with their relatives during the Christmas holidays in the fields far from Berlin, trying to avoid the horrors that It meant the advance of the army towards other countries and the imminent bombings, which would bring with it the arrival of the allied aviation.
Bertram, is an ordinary German boy of low income, but with his distinctive Aryan features that made him a strong candidate for Hitler's military ranks due to his blond hair, refined profile and bright blue eyes. He is one of the emigrants who, together with his little brother and mother, ventured on the escape trip, since his father, a fervent idealist of the Third Reich, had abandoned them by joining the fighting in Poland.
Since he was little, Bertram stood out above the other children, his height and stocky build made him the target of jokes and ridicule when they compared him to the ancient Vikings, which little by little turned him evil, not only because of the special hatred that arose from within, but because of the way in which he enjoyed the fury that took over his body when his blood boiled and annoyed, he mercilessly lashed out at anyone who crossed his path as the best of assassins, heir to the race of Cain.
Already at the beginning of the last period of school, the huge villager who lived in the capital city just because of his father's political influences, is the most ruthless and aggressive boy in school, which filled his father with pride, who constantly warned him about it. He incited him to continue with his misdeeds, in order to create a reputation that would make him easily enter the ranks of the SS when he was old enough. Which greatly differentiates him from his little brother, who is a noble, kind and cordial child, quite similar to his mother and without a hint of evil.
During the sunset of that December 21, the day of the winter solstice, the family undertook the trip to the grandparents' house, in a small Volkswagen under a fierce snow storm. A few kilometers before reaching their destination, the mother decided to make a stop and little Michael asked to go to the bathroom in the back of the gas station, so Bertram was reluctantly forced to take him, cursing and shouting expletives, for having to babysit.
Taking advantage of the fact that the storm had subsided and trying to stretch his legs, this violent character left his brother alone in the bathroom and went for a walk through the nearby areas, but when returned to the place to look for his brother, he could not find him. A strange feeling imprisoned his heart, plunging into the despair of understanding that it was his responsibility, fear seized him, knowing that he would have to account to his mother for what had happened and without even a hint of what had happened. Meanwhile, a nauseating smell like liquor and rotten meat took over everything around him.
Nerves began to take hold in the young man's mind bully, as time continued to advance, his breathing short in the midst of the icy breeze that was beginning to rage again, but something inside him aroused an even worse feeling, it was an inexplicable panic that ate away at his mind and despaired of his spirit.
Suddenly the snowstorm returned with greater intensity freezing everything in its path, in the distance, from the depths of the forest, he was able to hear the sound of some chains dragging together with some rattles, and among the white mist, he could barely see the silhouette of a tall man in a dark red suit with a sack over his shoulder, trudging through the fierce blizzard.
"Santa Claus?"
He thought at first, screaming in a sound that faded through the air like an echo, but then he felt foolish, assuming that this stranger could be Santa since he always doubted his existence and brushed it off as a story to tell. Imbecile children, besides he had never visited him, let alone brought him a gift.
As soon as he managed to clear his vision and the conflicting thoughts in his head, completely casting aside any illusion of goodness or Christmas cheer, he was able to realize that the monster was now standing straight ahead, staring at him with disturbing eyes swollen with blood on a face disgusting man with a gray beard, sticky and dirty, the hideous character's costume was torn and stained with dirt like he was a homeless man, his skin was wrinkled and dry, he looked like green or rather dark brown, from his head sprouted some strange curled horns between which was held the colored hat of a jester.
The burly prospect of a German soldier was paralyzed, fear shaking to his last inner fiber, while urine drenched the gray wool pants he wore, tears of horror welling up in his eyes freezing over a cracked, reddened face. Finally, the ghoulish figure of the Christmas devil began to laugh sarcastically with a cavernous voice full of evil that was heard in all the surroundings, revealing large rows of sharp teeth.
Extending a long bony finger, the abomination pointed towards the ground showing a sharp claw, there could be read a message written in the red and hot blood of his little brother on the white snow, which said:
Hell will claim you! Krampus.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
Thank you for reading
This story is fictional and does not represent anyone in particular.
This is an Original Story written by @susurrodelmisterio for Hive
Únete a la comunidad de escritores