Der_Strix
Libertad y Orden!
- Aug 30, 2021
- 59
All dialogue is in Spanish, translated to English
The buzz of the intercom would startle the young researcher, as he adjusts his circular glasses. He would stand up, dust off his small leather briefcase before approaching the receptionist in front of him. On the counter's side would be the Mental Asylum's name, faded by years of neglect. The receptionist, with eyes that were clearly tired, would look up at the researcher, before clicking a button to his right. The door to the left of the room would then open, revealing a long hall illuminated by old fluorescent lights. The receptionist would point towards the open path and would then sink his eyes at the paperwork to his right. Figuring that he was being let in, the researcher would nod at the receptionist before walking deeper into the facility.
The asylum had seen better days for sure, mental health wasn't a priority to the Government after all; perhaps even health in general. It was clear that the floors were dirty, the paint faded, and the entire facility reeks of the smell of death. Whether that pungent odor is a rat or an actual patient, the researcher may never know. An orderly carrying a patient would come out of one of the rooms, seemingly unaware of their visitor. The researcher would take a deep breath before proceeding to the Administrator's office. He would knock once before entering.
The administrator would look at the young man with the same tired eyes as the receptionist, with only the crackle of a nearby fan filling the room. He would rummage through his desk before motioning the young man to come closer. As the young researcher would draw near the administrator's desk, pictures of the facility's history would be dotted along the dreary walls. Plaques of certificates were also displayed proudly behind the administrator. To the right of him lies the big grey metal filing cabinets, containing the records of almost everything with regards to the facility.
Eventually, the administrator would hand in a folder, the facility's logo adorned on the center. A name would also be present, a certain Rómulo Dani Casal on top of "Patient name." The researcher would nod as he would proceed to make his way back to the door. Before he could exit the room, however, a weak yet deep voice would be heard behind him.
"Be careful, he utters things that may be... disturbing to you common folk... If you ever want to back out, there's a button near the patient's door to alert security and staff. Good luck."
The researcher could only gulp as he heads out of the administrator's office. As he closes the door behind him, he would be greeted by an armed guard wearing the facility's uniform. He would extend his hand to the researcher before proceeding to lead him the way to Casal's cell. The researcher would follow suit, noting the maze of the facility's walls. It was bleak, the walls never really seemed to speak anything that would make one notice them. I shuffled around as I looked forward, adjusting my glasses as I also note the nurses and orderlies around me. While I wasn't alone of course, it still feels that somehow, I'll be stuck within these walls with no way out.
I was then lead to a series of double doors, the walls slowly deteriorating as we venture deeper into the facility. Finally, the guard in front of me stopped as he moves to the side to reveal a room. As I enter it he tells me we have 2 hours to talk before he'll personally escort me out of the facility. I smiled as I listened to the door behind me close, taking a deep breath before walking forward. I was then greeted by a glass wall, with 5 medium-sized holes bored on the top. To the left of the room on my side is a big red button, with the word "Security" labeled on it. A stool was provided for me to sit in, and I gladly rested my feet as I sat down. I cleared my throat to make myself known to the man on the other side of the room, who had been facing the wall, with his back turned on me.
"Excuse me, Mr. Dani, I've come to study you."
"Study me? What am I... some sort of animal?"
"I'm sorry I didn-"
"It's fine kid, I know. Even if I look like a man, I'm clearly treated like one."
He would turn towards me as he sits on his bed. His room was scarce, with padded walls, and a small cot within. I moved forward as I opened my briefcase, quickly searching for a certain photo. A black and white photo of a flag would uncover itself, and I quickly press it against the glass wall.
"This photo, you are in it are you not?"
The man would stare blankly at the photo pressed against the wall... no response.
"The flag behind you, I'd like to learn more about it."
His eyes would widen, but he would not utter a single word.
"Sociedad de los Nuevos Bolívares. SNB, the logo is on the flag."
"Sociedad de los Nuevos Bolívares... Is it what you outsiders called it? If so then all you lot are more deserving to be in these walls than me!"
The man would chuckle as he walks towards the glass wall.
"We call ourselves Bolivarians, none of that society stuff... That flag is the flag of the movement young man, it's no mere logo."
"So is it some sort of underground political party?"
"Politics, you young men just love to sprinkle that word into everything, don't you? Well if you want to slap an Ideology on the movement might as well call it Revanchist Bolivarianism"
"Tell me more..."
"It's the absolute decree of the high council, a hidden group if you will, that soon Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Panama, all these countries will be united under Bolivar's dream... As all things should be. It is our fates to be united once more, to be united once more. Under a nation without ideology, it isn't anarchy my young friend, it's something far greater. To achieve it requires everything, and I mean everything... And well look where it landed me. But then, these men are blind, BLIND YOU SEE! For our fates are sealed, and they are delaying the inevitable, the inevitable, my friend."
"Where is this high council that you speak of, are they still here?"
"The high council is everywhere and nowhere, it is here, and it is not. They are in the government, the people, even in you my dear boy."
He points to my chest.
"It is within every Colombian, Ecuadorian, Venezuelan, Bolivarian. The high council directs, and we merely follow."
"Can you tell me more about the history of this Sociedad de los Nuevos Bolívares- Movement I mean?''
"Make yourself comfortable, I may be sick in the head, but I still remember it clearly."
The buzz of the intercom would startle the young researcher, as he adjusts his circular glasses. He would stand up, dust off his small leather briefcase before approaching the receptionist in front of him. On the counter's side would be the Mental Asylum's name, faded by years of neglect. The receptionist, with eyes that were clearly tired, would look up at the researcher, before clicking a button to his right. The door to the left of the room would then open, revealing a long hall illuminated by old fluorescent lights. The receptionist would point towards the open path and would then sink his eyes at the paperwork to his right. Figuring that he was being let in, the researcher would nod at the receptionist before walking deeper into the facility.
The asylum had seen better days for sure, mental health wasn't a priority to the Government after all; perhaps even health in general. It was clear that the floors were dirty, the paint faded, and the entire facility reeks of the smell of death. Whether that pungent odor is a rat or an actual patient, the researcher may never know. An orderly carrying a patient would come out of one of the rooms, seemingly unaware of their visitor. The researcher would take a deep breath before proceeding to the Administrator's office. He would knock once before entering.
The administrator would look at the young man with the same tired eyes as the receptionist, with only the crackle of a nearby fan filling the room. He would rummage through his desk before motioning the young man to come closer. As the young researcher would draw near the administrator's desk, pictures of the facility's history would be dotted along the dreary walls. Plaques of certificates were also displayed proudly behind the administrator. To the right of him lies the big grey metal filing cabinets, containing the records of almost everything with regards to the facility.
Eventually, the administrator would hand in a folder, the facility's logo adorned on the center. A name would also be present, a certain Rómulo Dani Casal on top of "Patient name." The researcher would nod as he would proceed to make his way back to the door. Before he could exit the room, however, a weak yet deep voice would be heard behind him.
"Be careful, he utters things that may be... disturbing to you common folk... If you ever want to back out, there's a button near the patient's door to alert security and staff. Good luck."
The researcher could only gulp as he heads out of the administrator's office. As he closes the door behind him, he would be greeted by an armed guard wearing the facility's uniform. He would extend his hand to the researcher before proceeding to lead him the way to Casal's cell. The researcher would follow suit, noting the maze of the facility's walls. It was bleak, the walls never really seemed to speak anything that would make one notice them. I shuffled around as I looked forward, adjusting my glasses as I also note the nurses and orderlies around me. While I wasn't alone of course, it still feels that somehow, I'll be stuck within these walls with no way out.
I was then lead to a series of double doors, the walls slowly deteriorating as we venture deeper into the facility. Finally, the guard in front of me stopped as he moves to the side to reveal a room. As I enter it he tells me we have 2 hours to talk before he'll personally escort me out of the facility. I smiled as I listened to the door behind me close, taking a deep breath before walking forward. I was then greeted by a glass wall, with 5 medium-sized holes bored on the top. To the left of the room on my side is a big red button, with the word "Security" labeled on it. A stool was provided for me to sit in, and I gladly rested my feet as I sat down. I cleared my throat to make myself known to the man on the other side of the room, who had been facing the wall, with his back turned on me.
"Excuse me, Mr. Dani, I've come to study you."
"Study me? What am I... some sort of animal?"
"I'm sorry I didn-"
"It's fine kid, I know. Even if I look like a man, I'm clearly treated like one."
He would turn towards me as he sits on his bed. His room was scarce, with padded walls, and a small cot within. I moved forward as I opened my briefcase, quickly searching for a certain photo. A black and white photo of a flag would uncover itself, and I quickly press it against the glass wall.
"This photo, you are in it are you not?"
The man would stare blankly at the photo pressed against the wall... no response.
"The flag behind you, I'd like to learn more about it."
His eyes would widen, but he would not utter a single word.
"Sociedad de los Nuevos Bolívares. SNB, the logo is on the flag."
"Sociedad de los Nuevos Bolívares... Is it what you outsiders called it? If so then all you lot are more deserving to be in these walls than me!"
The man would chuckle as he walks towards the glass wall.
"We call ourselves Bolivarians, none of that society stuff... That flag is the flag of the movement young man, it's no mere logo."
"So is it some sort of underground political party?"
"Politics, you young men just love to sprinkle that word into everything, don't you? Well if you want to slap an Ideology on the movement might as well call it Revanchist Bolivarianism"
"Tell me more..."
"It's the absolute decree of the high council, a hidden group if you will, that soon Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Panama, all these countries will be united under Bolivar's dream... As all things should be. It is our fates to be united once more, to be united once more. Under a nation without ideology, it isn't anarchy my young friend, it's something far greater. To achieve it requires everything, and I mean everything... And well look where it landed me. But then, these men are blind, BLIND YOU SEE! For our fates are sealed, and they are delaying the inevitable, the inevitable, my friend."
"Where is this high council that you speak of, are they still here?"
"The high council is everywhere and nowhere, it is here, and it is not. They are in the government, the people, even in you my dear boy."
He points to my chest.
"It is within every Colombian, Ecuadorian, Venezuelan, Bolivarian. The high council directs, and we merely follow."
"Can you tell me more about the history of this Sociedad de los Nuevos Bolívares- Movement I mean?''
"Make yourself comfortable, I may be sick in the head, but I still remember it clearly."
