On the third night, the darkness in Javier's room seemed denser. A chilling air seeped through the windows, and the dim candlelight barely managed to dispel the shadows lurking in the corners. Javier lay down, caught between anticipation and dread, knowing that Sister Catalina would appear once more. His heart pounded with the weight of one about to cross a threshold from which there was no return.
Sister Catalina materialized like every night, her figure emerging from the very shadows themselves. This time, her demeanor seemed less distant; there was a glimmer in her eyes, a mix of relief and pain. She moved closer than she ever had before, as if the barrier between their two worlds was beginning to dissolve.
"I was betrayed by someone I trusted with my life," the nun whispered, her voice trembling. "Someone who swore to protect me, but upon discovering my love, sealed my fate with cruelty."
Javier felt a shiver run down his spine at her words. Each time she spoke, it was as if she carried a fragment of suffering from the past, an open wound bleeding centuries of anguish. Sister Catalina recounted how, as a young novice, she had met a man who frequently visited the monastery. Their forbidden love grew in the dark corners of the church, hidden in whispers and letters penned by candlelight.
Still lost in the haze of the dream, the writer absorbed every word with a devotion bordering on obsession. He awoke at dawn, his hands trembling as he frantically typed, afraid to forget even the smallest detail. It became increasingly clear that he wasn't merely writing a story; he was reconstructing a forgotten love, breathing life into the echoes of a past that refused to die.
During the day, Javier noticed changes within himself. His eyes were sunken, his dark circles deepened from lack of sleep. His mind couldn't stray from Sister Catalina; he saw her in every corner of the Parador, in every shadow that moved at the edge of his vision. The hotel staff began to watch him with suspicion, aware of his strange behavior but too accustomed to the old stories the place harbored to ask questions.
On the fourth night, Sister Catalina revealed more details. With palpable pain, she spoke of how her superiors discovered their secret letters and condemned their love as a mortal sin. She described her punishment: long nights of solitary prayer, lashings, and the imposition of a vow of silence. Catalina was isolated in a cell within the monastery, a cold, dark place where the echo of her sobs reverberated against the stone walls.
With each word, Javier felt his heartbeat quicken and his hands grow cold. He felt an urgent need to protect her, to save her from her tragic fate, despite knowing he couldn't change the past. Sister Catalina spoke to him as if he were her confidant, her only refuge in an endless purgatory.
During the day, consumed by the story, Javier began to dig into the Parador's archives and the local library. He found old records that spoke of a young nun, Catalina de la Cruz, who had died under mysterious circumstances. The records mentioned her forbidden relationship and a series of failed "exorcisms" carried out under the suspicion that the young woman was possessed by a dark spirit. However, the final entry hinted that the true cause of her torment had been an unrequited love and the cruelty of those who had condemned her.
Javier spiraled deeper into his obsession, feeling ever closer to Catalina with each page he read, with every word he wrote. It was as if his love transcended time and space, and the more he wrote about her, the more alive he felt. The line between dreams and reality began to blur, and Catalina's words became the only company he craved.
One afternoon, the elderly receptionist, whose eyes were always fixed on some distant point, approached him in the hallway.
"You should rest, sir," he said in a gravelly voice. "This place has a way of consuming weak souls… and sometimes even the strong."
Javier tried to brush off the comment, but there was something unsettling in his tone—a veiled warning that unnerved him. However, his obsession with Catalina was stronger than any fear, and he continued writing, drawn ever closer to the abyss.
On the fifth night, Sister Catalina appeared closer to him than ever before. This time, he could feel the chill of her breath and the sadness in her gaze as if she were truly there. The nun recounted the moment her love was discovered and how the man who had sworn to protect her betrayed her out of fear of losing his own soul.
"I gave him my love and my life," Catalina said, her eyes filled with a mix of despair and longing, "and he delivered me to the shadows."
Javier couldn't stop himself; he reached out to touch her, but her figure dissolved into the air like mist under the moonlight. He woke up gasping, his mind caught in a whirlwind of emotions. He loved her, even though he knew it was madness. How could he fall in love with a shadow, with an echo of a love lost to eternity? And yet, he felt it in every fiber of his being.
As All Souls' Night drew near, Javier felt time slipping through his fingers like sand, and with it, the chance to save Catalina. He had convinced himself that he had been chosen to be the confidant and lover she never had in life, and that somehow, his love could redeem her and free her from her eternal suffering.