All Souls' Night arrived, and the Parador sank into a deathly silence. A thick fog wrapped around the hill, and the wind battered the stone walls with a constant moan. Javier felt like a prisoner of time, trapped in a cycle of endless nights, where each dawn drew him closer to the abyss.
He barely slept during the day, dreading and longing at the same time for Sister Catalina's arrival. He knew this would be the final night, the decisive one. From his research, he had learned that Catalina's soul had been condemned to wander the monastery until All Souls' Night, the only time she could find redemption or remain trapped forever in a cycle of pain.
That night, Javier lit every candle in the room, creating a flickering halo of light that barely pierced the darkness. He sat on the bed, trembling, waiting for Catalina's appearance. And like a specter emerging from the shadows, the nun appeared at the foot of his bed, her eyes as deep and dark as the eternal night that enveloped her.
"This is the last night," said Sister Catalina, her voice fractured under the weight of centuries. "If you abandon me, I will remain here, among the shadows, trapped for eternity."
Javier felt a lump in his throat. Every time he saw her, his love for her grew more unbearable, and yet, he knew he had to make a decision that could condemn him as well. Catalina revealed that her only desire was to be free, but to achieve it, she needed someone to share her fate—someone willing to love her and join her in her purgatory, forsaking the world of the living.
Sister Catalina's proposal was clear: if Javier stayed with her until dawn, his soul would merge with the nun's, and they would be together forever, even if it was in a world of shadows. But if he left, she would be condemned to repeat the same night endlessly, without any hope of release. Javier felt a deep terror at the thought of being trapped, but the love he felt for her was so real, so overwhelming, that abandoning her seemed impossible.
"I can't leave you here," he whispered, barely audible. "I can't condemn you to suffer alone."
Catalina looked at him with a mix of relief and sadness.
"Love shouldn't be a chain," she replied, her voice heavy with melancholy. "But my love was… and still is."
Javier moved closer, his hands shaking as he reached to touch her face. For the first time, Catalina didn't disappear. Her skin was as cold as marble, and her eyes reflected the pain of centuries of solitude. Time seemed to freeze in the room, and Javier felt as though everything he had been and everything he was dissolved into that intangible connection.
The monastery's bells began to toll, marking midnight. Javier knew the moment of choice had arrived: to cross the line that separated life from death, or to abandon Catalina forever. The walls of the room began to blur, and Sister Catalina's figure grew more distinct, more real. Echoes of monks seemed to chant from the depths of the monastery, as if heralding the arrival of an inevitable event.
"I love you," said Catalina, for the first time showing a human emotion—a palpable desperation. "But I don't want to condemn you…"
"It's not a condemnation," Javier replied, with a conviction born of love and despair. "It's my choice."
He crossed the threshold, touching Catalina's face and feeling the connection of two souls transcending time. The room dissolved into a whirl of shadows and whispers, and Javier knew he had made his choice.
The next morning, the Parador's staff found the room empty. The bed was unmade, and Javier's laptop remained open, displaying the last words he had written: "The shadows fade at dawn, but the love between two condemned souls persists beyond life and death. Eternity is but a sigh when shared with the soul one loves." There were no signs of the writer, only an echo of his final decision.
Rumors spread among the Parador's staff and the few guests who remained that every All Souls' Night, the monastery's bells tolled on their own, and a pale light could be seen in the window of Sister Catalina's old cell. Some claimed to hear whispers and promises of eternal love echoing through the corridors, while others swore they saw the figures of a man and a woman walking together, shrouded in the twilight.
The legend of the Parador of San Gregorio became one of the most told tales by visitors, though few dared to spend All Souls' Night there. It was said that the spirits of a writer and a nun roamed the halls, forever searching for a dawn that never came.