La Noche Eterna by San Ashitaka

La Noche Eterna by San Ashitaka

“You sure this is the place?” El Santo Negro asked as the car pulled into the solitary building’s parking lot in the outskirts of Mexico City.

“Sure, Gabe,” Jack answered as he parked his brand new ’57 Thunderbird near the decrepit building’s entrance.

“Gabriel,” the luchador known as El Santo Negro corrected his manager, not for the first time. “Pinche gringo,” he muttered, once again regretting hiring the Yanki as his manager.

“See?” Jack pointed to the flickering neon sign above the large, dilapidated building’s entrance. “La Noche Eterna! Just like on the flyer!” He nodded to the flyer he’d taped to the car’s dashboard just above the radio. 

Dilapidated was generous. The building looked abandoned! Half the windows were boarded up.

“Is this a warehouse? You have me wrestling in a warehouse?”

Jack shrugged. “Looks like we’re the first ones here,” he motioned to the empty parking lot.

“Thought we were running late.”

“You fighting tonight?” A heavy-set man sitting on a stool next to the entrance waved at them. He wore an elaborate luchador mask.

“I am!” Gabriel answered as he reached into the Thunderbird for the duffel bag that held his outfit and headed to the entrance.

The masked man pulled the door open for him. He flinched when he saw Gabriel’s mask: black with silver trim around the mouth and eyes and a silver cross on the forehead.

“Everything all right, friend?”

“Yes. Just. Your mask. It’s unconventional. It’ll give you an edge,” the man gave him a toothy grin.

“Thank you. I designed it myself,” Gabe said cautiously. Something about the bouncer’s smile unnerved him; it seemed to hold too many teeth. Sharp, jagged teeth.

The man placed a meaty paw on Jack’s chest as he approached the door. “You fighting?”

“Oh my, no. I’m his manager,” Jack nodded towards Gabriel and flashed his trademark shit eating grin.

“Only fighters.”

“Okay. Where does the audience enter?”

“Full house.”

Jack looked at the empty parking lot, puzzled. “Just wait in the car,” Gabriel huffed before Jack could protest.

“You’re the boss, Santo,” Jack flashed thumbs up and walked back to his car. 

Gabriel headed inside, glad to be rid of Jack and to get away from the bouncer.

A muscular, bare chested enano[1] wearing a blue luchador mask sat behind a podium in the lobby. “Name?”

“El Santo Negro.”

“You’re late. Sign in.” The diminutive man handed Gabriel a thick, leather-bound book and a pen. Gabriel scanned the names as he signed the book. He didn’t recognize any of them, and they all seemed… odd. Each luchador was named after a monster or boogey man. El Hombre Lobo, El Morcielago, El Cuco… All the usual suspects along with some indigenous ones. Maricoxi? El Peuchen? Who were these guys? Must be a horror themed league, Gabriel thought. It made sense; horror movies were all the rage, but themed wrestlers had short careers. Just as he was about to sign the book, he spotted a familiar name.

“Madremonte… that’s not Esmeralda del Monte, is it?”

“Maybe,” the enano shrugged. “We don’t use our aliases here. Why? You know her?”

“She’s my fiancé,” Gabriel said as he handed the book back to the enano. “She didn’t mention having a match tonight last time I saw her.” 

“You’re engaged to Madremonte?” The enano asked incredulously.

“Tying the knot in four months at the Cumbres del Ajusco National Park” Gabriel beamed. “She loves nature.”

“I’ve never known her kind to settle down,” the enano mumbled as he took the book from Gabriel.

“What do you mean ‘her kind?’”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that” the enano started as he looked up to Gabriel, but the silver cross embroidered on Gabriel’s luchador mask distracted him. “Hey, shouldn’t that be upside down?” He asked instead of explaining himself.

“That’s not funny.”

“I thought you were going for a Satanist thing,” he shrugged.

“Madre de Dios!” Gabriel crossed himself. Something else besides the enano’s crass joke bothered him. Lucha Libre shows were generally loud and rowdy, but the building was deafeningly quiet. “Low turnout?”

“Full house. You almost missed your first match. You’re on after the next match. Shouldn’t be more than twenty, twenty-five minutes. Arena’s that way,” the enano waved at one of the three hallways that branched out of the lobby.

“Fifteen minutes? That’s not much time to discuss choreography!”

“Choreography?”

“Yeah, you know. Choreography? My opponent and I have to figure out how the match is going to play out. I don’t even know if I’m supposed to win or lose!”

“Oh! Right! Yeah, no, this isn’t fixed. This tournament is real.”

“Real? Come on,” Gabriel chuckled. His grin faded upon realizing the enano was serious. “What happens if I lose? I won’t lose my mask, will I?”

“Depends on your opponent,” the enano answered. “Given who you’re up against… don’t lose.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m a wrestler, not a boxer. I don’t feel comfortable with this. I might hurt someone.”

The enano looked him up and down, then smirked. “You should worry about getting hurt, amigo. You’re a little small for this tournament.” 

“Small?” Gabriel repeated in disbelief. At six-foot-three and two-hundred and fifty-seven pounds, he was undoubtedly the largest luchador in Mexico. That was the problem. The average luchador was much smaller. The aerial maneuvers the technicos, or “good guys,” performed were out of the question for someone his size, and he was too big for a technico to believably defeat him in a one-on-one match, so he didn’t make a good rudo either. Because of his size, inadvertently hurting someone had always been one of Gabriel’s biggest fears. He’d never been called small.

Hence the Yanki manager. If he could break into an American league, he’d only be big, not monstrous. Besides, the pay was much better.

“Hey, you signed the book,” the enano frowned. “He won’t let you leave. No one leaves until the tournament is over. Them’s the rules.”

“I don’t know who he is, but he can go to hell,” Gabriel snorted and headed to the door.

“I wouldn’t do that, pal!” The enano called out, but Gabriel ignored him and stepped out of the building–into a dark, empty void that swallowed him whole.

Gabriel screamed, but no sound escaped his lips. He felt as though he moved, but couldn’t tell if he was falling or just floating. He turned, hoping to go back, but La Noche Eterna had disappeared. Either that, or it was too dark to see, which amounted to the same thing. Cold enveloped him as he drifted, freezing his very core. Disoriented, blind, and freezing, he started to

Dimly, he felt something grasp his right hand.

Gabriel fell to his knees as he was pulled back into La Noche Eterna. He shivered and struggled against the nausea that threatened to empty his stomach. Someone around him spoke.

“I tried to stop him!”

“What… What happened?” Gabriel croaked.

“You foolishly ran Outside,” a familiar voice answered.

“Esmeralda…?” Gabriel asked, turning to the voice.

“Yes, it’s me mi amor.” Slowly, Gabriel’s fiancé came into view as his eyesight recovered. She looked much different than the last time he saw her. Although she wore her usual wrestling costume (green boots and a green leotard decorated with multi-hued leaves and moss), she’d dyed her midnight black hair dark green and painted her normally bronze skin a light shade of green. Even her hazel eyes now sparkled green like her namesake. They reminded him of wild jungle ferns. She turned to the enano and asked him to fetch some water for Gabriel.

“What are you doing here?” Gabriel sputtered.

“I could ask you the same question. You didn’t tell me you were entering the tournament.”

“Jack only found out about it day before yesterday. Why didn’t you tell me you were entering it?”

“I wanted to surprise you with the prize,” Esmeralda grinned.

“Esmeralda, I don’t know what’s going on, but we have to get out of here! When I went outside, it was like… I don’t know how to describe it. It was just… Just dark… Dark and empty!”

“No one leaves until the tournament is over,” the enano declared as he returned. He handed Gabriel a paper cup. Gabriel gulped the contents gratefully.

“You heard the duende,”Esmeralda smiled. The only way out is through.”

“You’re up in five,” the enano told Esmeralda.

“You’re on after me,” Esmeralda said as she bent down for a quick kiss. “Wish me luck,” she winked at Gabriel, then sauntered away.

“What did she mean Outside?” Gabriel asked the enano. “How else am I supposed to leave?”

“You wouldn’t understand. Just don’t do it again. You’re lucky she caught you before something from the Outside found you.”

“Things… live in that?”

“It’s debatable if they’re alive, and I’m no biologist. Just take my word for it. You don’t want something from the Outside catching you.”

“Where is the locker room?” Gabriel sighed as he rose to his feet.

“No lockers here.”

“Is there at least a green room? I need to change.”

“I guess you can use one of the storage rooms.” The enano whistled. A chihuahua meandered out from beneath the podium where it was presumably napping.

“Take El Santo Negro here to one of the storage rooms,” he ordered the dog.

The chihuahua yawned, gave Gabriel a reproachful look, then headed to one of the hallways. Halfway there, it turned to Gabriel as if to say, “you coming?”

Jack, what did you get me into? Gabe wondered as he followed the dog.

Grotesque statues depicting mythological monsters and boogey men lined the hallway. Gabriel subconsciously reached for the silver crucifix that hung around his neck. Eventually, the chihuahua paused in front of a door and motioned to Gabriel. It yawned again, then trotted back towards the lobby.

Gabriel did not care for the room.

Usually, venues decorated with posters featuring famous wrestlers or advertisements from previous events. Instead, paintings depicting sacrifices to Aztec and Mayan gods, not unlike those on display at the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City, hung on three walls. The fourth held an enormous shrine. Unlike most shrines, which held statues of the Virgin Mary, Jesus, or a saint, this one housed an idol of a skeleton man with a dog face. Gabriel shuddered and crossed himself. What kind of sick bastard dedicates shrines to heathen gods?

For the first time ever, Gabriel felt unnerved changing. He felt the idol’s s eyes crawling over him as he shed his shoes, suit, and shirt, and put on his costume: skin tight black pants with silver stripes on the sides and silver boots. He whispered the same, quick prayer he always recited before a match, then took his crucifix off and retrieved a pair of earplugs from his duffel bag. He tucked both the crucifix and the earplugs into a hidden pocket inside his left boot.

Knocking on the door interrupted his contemplation.

“Ready?” Esmeralda peeked into the room. “Your first match is about to start.”

“That was fast,” Gabriel said. “Did you win? The enano said the matches aren’t fixed.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I’d lost,” she smiled. She took his hand and led him towards the arena.

“What’s the prize?” Gabriel asked as he followed Esmeralda to the arena. With all the commotion, he’d forgotten to ask.

“Like you don’t know,” Esmeralda smirked. “No one enters this type of tournament if they don’t know the prize.”

“I did! Well, Jack entered me. He didn’t tell me it was a tournament thought!” 

“The championship, and all the perks that come with it,” Esmeralda answered, leaving Gabriel even more clueless than before. “Here we are,” she declared before a set of curtains. “You know the drill. Wait for the emcee to announce you. Good luck, mi amor!” She kissed him once again and sauntered away before he could ask her to clarify her answer. He waited for her to turn a corner, then retrieved the earplugs.

He’d designed the mask to give him quick access to his ears. Arenas could get loud, and hearing loss ran in his family, so Gabriel took every precaution to protect his hearing, but for a supposedly full house, the arena was surprisingly silent. All he could hear from beyond the curtain as he wedged the earplugs in his ears was the emcee introducing his opponent. Someone named ‘El Loogaroo.’

Where were the jeers?

The whistles?

The applause?

Gabriel peeked beyond the curtains. To his surprise, the arena was packed. Weirdest crowd he’d ever seen, too. Everyone in the stands wore elaborate costumes, as though it was Dia de Los Muertos, or the Yanki’s Halloween. Even the referee and the emcee wore masks.

A balcony overlooking the arena held a single occupant who lounged on a fainting couch, like a bored monarch overlooking tedious subjects. He wore a skeleton costume and a mask that resembled a cross between a wolf and a hyena, just like the idol from the shrine in the changing room.

“El Santo Negro!” The emcee declared.

Gabriel bellowed as he emerged from the curtains, arms raised, pumping his fists in a feigned frenzy.

A thousand silent eyes stared sullenly at him as he approached the ring. Only when he entered it did the crowd finally break its silence with a barrage of jeers and hisses. He couldn’t tell what insults they hurled as they yelled in neither Spanish or English, but from the vitriol in their collective tone, he knew they weren’t cheering.

El Loogaroo must be a favorite, Gabriel thought.

Gabriel’s opponent wore a red hood and cape that obscured both his body and face. A malicious pair of eyes glinted from within the hood. They looked Gabriel up and down, then settled on his mask. The crowd quieted down as El Loogaroo took a step back. He waved the referee over and whispered to him. The ref looked at Gabriel, then back to El Loogaroo, then shook his head. They argued. Restless, the crowd started booing again. Finally, the ref approached Gabriel.

“El Loogaroo requests that you take your mask off.”

“What?”

“Your mask. He won’t wrestle unless you take it off.”

“What?” Gabe asked again, having a hard time hearing the ref over the crowd and his earplugs to boot.

The ref pretended to take his mask off, then pointed to Gabriel.

What kind of ridiculous request was that? Masked luchadores didn’t just remove their masks in public! Doing so was dishonorable. Gabriel even wore it at home and at his day job, fixing cars. The only way he’d ever take it off in public was if he lost a betting match, in which case, he was honor-bound to remove it and never wear it again.

“Is he crazy? Of course not.”

“Well, would you be willing to remove or cover the cross?” The ref asked as he covered his forehead with his left hand, then pointed to Gabriel’s mask.

“No!” Gabriel recoiled, subconsciously reaching for the crucifix that no longer hung from his neck.

The ref turned to El Loogaroo and shook his head. El Loogaroo nodded to the man on the balcony, who seemed disinterested. The ref sighed, climbed out of the ring, and left the arena. Moments later, he appeared on the balcony and silence enveloped the arena as he conferred with the man in the dog mask. They spoke for a few moments, then the ref returned to the ring. 

He took the mike from the emcee and declared, “after conferring with Xolotl and reviewing the rules, we found that though El Santos Negro’s mask may be in poor taste, it does not violate the rules.”  

Poor taste? Gabriel thought. And what kind of name is Xolotl?

“I concede,” El Loogaroo muttered, then left the ring.

The crowd raged, clearly displeased.

“El Santo Negro wins by default!” The emcee declared.

The ref shrugged, walked to Gabriel, took his hand and raised it.

& & &

Gabriel couldn’t figure out where to go after leaving the ring. Eventually, he wound up in the lobby.

“Heard you beat El Loogaroo. Congratulations,” the enano behind the podium smiled. “No one wanted him to win.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t beat him. He conceded because I wouldn’t take my mask off. Can you believe it? What kind of crap is that?”

The enano shrugged. “Lots of guys here don’t like that,” he pointed to the cross on Gabriel’s mask. “You ask me, wearing it was a stroke of genius. He’ll probably change the rules next time.”

“That’s crazy. Who doesn’t like the cross?”

“Listen, whatever happens, you watch your back after the tournament. El Loogaroo is a sore loser. He’ll try to pay you back for humiliating him.”

“I’d never heard of him before today. Does he work in the States?”

“The States? Maybe. Don’t know. His kind aren’t around much anymore. They don’t like it here anymore. Too many people.”

“Okay, sure. Hey, where am I supposed to wait for my next match? This place is a maze. I couldn’t even find a bathroom.”

“Just find a spot in the stands. That’s where the rest of the contestants are.”

“There you are!” Esmeralda latched on to Gabriel before he could ask the enano how to get back to the arena. “Way to go!” She beamed as she reached up and gave him a passionate kiss. “I feared for you, mi amor. El Loogaro is a monster, but I knew your mask would give you an edge.” She took his hand and led him back to the arena.

They found a couple of spots in the fourth row just as a new match began. A tall, pale, bald wrestle in a priest’s frock named Pishtaco faced off against a much shorter opponent named Tzizimite, who wore a black outfit with a wide brimmed black hat and an ornate pair of boots.

Neither was dressed to wrestle.

“I guess they don’t have weight classes here,” Gabriel muttered. Pishtaco towered over Tzizimite, who was only a foot or so taller than the enano at the podium.

Esmeralda laughed. “No, no weight classes here,” she grinned. “Just luck of the bracket.”

“Wait, so… Does that mean you’re wrestling men?” Ludicrous. Women were supposed to have their own league.

Esmeralda nodded. “It’s all right. I can hold my own. In fact, there are only three in the tournament that might give me trouble. You took one of them out,” she winked. “Your next match is against another one. El Caiman. He’s tough, but I think you can beat him. Oh! There’s the bell!”

The crowd exploded in cheers as the match started. Nothing happened in the ring except that Tzizimite started… singing? He just stood there and sang. Gabriel couldn’t hear him over the crowd, but Pishtaco certainly did. The tall luchador lurched two wobbly steps toward Tzizimite, then stopped. He swooned, then slowly sank to his knees. Still singing, Tzizimite carefully approached his opponent. He circled around Pishtaco and went for a choke hold, but Pishtaco quickly turned and grabbed the shorter wrestler by the throat, instantly stopping his song.

“Well, that’s it,” Esmeralda groaned. “No way he’s getting out of that. What a shame. I was rooting for him.” 

The crowd went silent as Pishtaco pulled Tzizimite towards him. The little luchador vainly struggled to break free. Pishtaco opened his mouth, revealing row after row of impossibly sharp teeth. His jaws extended to a grotesque degree, then he clamped down on Tzizimite’s throat.

“Madre de Dios!” Gabriel blurted out. The crowd went wild as Pishtaco… drained Tzizimite. The smaller wrestler simply shriveled as he struggled to break free. Eventually, he stopped fighting and all that was left was a sack of skin holding a skeleton.

Gabriel fled. He was done with this crazy tournament for freaks and monsters.

& & &

No matter where he turned, Gabriel wound up in the lobby. The enano at the podium kept trying to get his attention each time he arrived, but Gabriel ignored him. After losing track of attempts, Gabriel gave up and approached the podium.

“You should conserve your strength. El Caiman is no joke,” the enano reprimanded him.

“Please. I’m begging you. Let me out! There’s got to be a way out of here!”

“I keep telling you. No-

“No one leaves until the tournament is over,” Gabriel beat the enano to it. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. But there must be a way out! You have to show me!”

“Look pal, I get it, but the building you entered in your world is a thin place in your reality. It can be used to enter other places, and when you crossed the threshold, you entered Xolotl’s domain. It’s his place, his rules, and until Xolotl wills it, no one can leave.”

“But those are monsters in there! Actual monsters! That… thing… it killed…”

“Yeah, well, the prize is worth killing and dying for.”

“What even is the prize?”

“Xolotl’s blessing,” the enano answered. “Didn’t you know?”

“A blessing from the guy in the balcony? That’s not worth dying for! I can get a priest to bless me at any church for free!”

The enano laughed. “Yes, YOU can get a priest to bless you any time, but not most of us. A lot of us can’t even set foot in a church. You really have no idea who Xolotl is do you?”

“Yeah, some rich bastard who likes to watch monsters tear each other apart!”

“Well, that’s one way to describe him, soyou got me there,” the enano chuckled. “He fancies himself a god, and long ago, some your kind did worship him. He’s the last one of that bunch that still hangs around here. The others kinda left after your people came over.”

“My people?”

“Yeah, you know, the whatchoocall ’em. Spaniards. Anyways, the prize isn’t just Xolotl’s blessing. Winner becomes his champion. His agent in the world. It affords a lot of protection against your kind.”

“Against Spaniards?”

“Humans, dingus! Xolotl’s champion can walk among humans undetected. That’s part of why everyone wants it! Some of us are lucky enough to at least blend in with your kind, like my people. But most of us have to hide in the shadows because your kind keeps claiming more and more land.” 

“Who are you talking about? Who is ‘us’?”

“You know,” the enano shrieked, exasperated. “Duendes! Werewolves! Vampires! The wee folk!”

“But… but they don’t exist! They’re just… make believe… things people tell their children to make them…” Gabe trailed off, unable to disprove what he’d witnessed with his own eyes. “I need to sit down,” he mumbled as his knees buckled.

“You really didn’t know?” The enano asked. “You didn’t know about us? About the prize?”

“I don’t want his damn blessing! That sounds more like a good way to be damned to hell!”

“There ain’t no hell,” the enano sighed. “That’s just something Yahwe made up to scare his worshipers.”

“Madre de Dios!” Gabriel exclaimed and crossed himself.

“Don’t tell me you follow Yahwe,” the enano smirked.

“Well, I’m baptized, so…”

The enano’s eyes widened. “Why are you here?” He sputtered. “I thought you had that cross on your mask to get an advantage! Almost everyone in here would love to kill a follower of Yahwe!”

“My manager Jack… he entered me in this tournament. I didn’t know…”

“You have a lousy manager! If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you sign in!”

“There you are!” Esmeralda declared as she entered the lobby. “I’ve been looking all over for you! My next match is in a few minutes. You should come cheer for me since you missed my first one!”

“Esmeralda! Listen,” Gabriel started as he got back on his feet. “We have to get out of here! This Xolotl guy. The enano here says he’s some sort of devil!”

“The name is Unxchaput, and I’m a duende.” Unxchaput interjected. “And I said no such thing.”

“What kind of nonsense have you been spouting to my fiancé, Unxchaput?” Esmeralda smiled at the duende. “Come, mi amor. Let’s go back to the arena.”

“Esmeralda, listen to me! I don’t know why this devil’s blessing is so important to you, but it’s not worth your life! Let’s just concede to our next opponents and get out of here!”

“Mi amor,” Esmeralda smiled as embraced her fiancé. “I have nothing to fear. It’s like I told you. I can handle most of the field. I just need you to knock El Caiman out of the tournament and then concede to me, and then I win.”

“You want me to fight El Caiman? And concede to you? Isn’t that… cheating?”

“Not at all. El Loogaroo conceded to you and faced no repercussions. Did he?” She asked, turning to Unxchaput.

“Nothing in the rules against conceding,” Unxchaput shrugged.

“There. No problem. And you can handle El Caiman. He’ll probably concede to you too. His kind doesn’t take kindly to the cross either.”

“But… But…”

“Listen, mi amor. You have to beat El Caiman. I don’t stand a chance against him. If you don’t… I’ll be lucky if he just rips me to shreds.”

Resigned, Gabriel allowed Esmeralda to lead him from the podium.

“Wait! Weren’t you looking for your duffel bag?” Unxchaput called out.

“Uh. Yeah, yeah, I’ve been looking all over for that thing,” Gabriel chuckled as he pried himself from Esmeralda’s grip. “Darndest thing, I can’t find the room I left it in!”

“I can take you,” Unxchaput volunteered.

“Don’t take long, you’ll miss my match,” Esmeralda grinned.

Unxchaput waited until Esmeralda was out of earshot, then said, “listen, Perro. A long time ago our peoples… well, not our peoples exactly. Before your kind came over and before the Aztec, and the people before them… well. You understand what I’m trying to say. A long time ago humans and my people. We weren’t exactly friends, but we weren’t enemies, either. And when it’s kill or be killed, eat or be eaten… having someone who’s not an enemy… It’s worth something. And in the spirit of that something, let me tell you one thing. Watch out for her.”

“Esmeralda? Why?”

“Let me ask you something. How long have you known her?”

“About six months. I met her when she debuted in the ring, right before her first match.”

How could he forget?

After yet another humiliating match at the Arena Mexico, he heard an enthralling voice singing the most enchanting song on his way back to his locker. It led him to the women’s locker room. He knew he shouldn’t go inside, but he was powerless against the siren song, and despite his better judgement, he entered the forbidden rooms to find Esmeralda brushing her long, midnight-black hair as she readied herself for her match.

The rest, as Jack was so fond of saying, was history.

“Okay, so you both fall in love, get engaged. Then you wind up in a tournament she’s in, that she never mentioned, where she convinces you to knock out the opponents she doesn’t think she can handle, and on top of that, she convinces you to concede to her too. You don’t find that the least bit suspicious? Let me ask you something else. When you met. Was she singing?”

“Yes, actually. She has the most beautiful voice. Why do you ask?” 

“Watch her match and you’ll understand,” Unxchaput waved Gabriel away.

“Sure, but… How do I get to the arena?”

& & &

The chihuahua led Gabriel to the arena, where he spotted an empty spot in the second row. Someone grabbed him by the elbow as he made his way to the seat.

Gabriel turned and found himself facing El Loogaroo, who flinched at Gabriel’s mask.

“Madre de Dios!” Gabriel hissed in surprise. El Loogaroo’s cape and hood were pulled back, revealing not a man, but a muscular, wolflike creature that resembled a man.

He let Gabriel go and spat out, “I dare not risk Xolotl’s wrath, otherwise I’d rip your throat out where you stand, human, but someday, when your back is turned and your little girlfriend isn’t looking, my teeth will find your throat.”

Before Gabriel could answer, the creature strolled back to his seat. Gabriel’s knees went weak as he contemplated what could have happened if El Loogaroo had not conceded. He had no counters for such long claws or sharp teeth. He only knew how to wrestle men, not monsters!

Trembling, he managed to calm down enough to sit just as the emcee announced Esmeralda’s opponent, El Capelobo. El Capelobo was a furry manlike creature of average height with an anteater head. As soon as the bell rang, he charged and knocked Esmeralda over with a clothesline. She collapsed and immediately rolled over, then tried to get up, but another clothesline put her back down. El Capelobo then climbed the ropes onto the third turnbuckle and, to the delight of the crowd, performed a diving splash against Esmeralda.

Esmeralda managed to roll away just in time to avoid El Capelobo, who belly flopped on the ring. He recovered first and charged Esmeralda head on as she was getting up, but just as he was about to connect with another clothesline, she screamed. The sheer force behind her scream knocked El Capelobo backwards off his feet. Gabriel heard it even above the roaring crowd. He couldn’t imagine how loud it had been; she was facing away from him.

El Capelobo staggered to his feet. Esmeralda started singing. Her song permeated the arena. The crowd continued to yell, cheer, and curse, but Gabriel could hear her soft, enthralling voice as though she sat next to him, despite the din. Visions of a warm starry night in a peaceful mountain popped up in his head. Nocturnal jungle creatures chirped or sang as a waterfall’s dull roar calmed his pounding heart.

Esmeralda’s singing mesmerized El Capelobo, who simply stood there, staring at something beyond the arena. Still singing, Esmeralda approached her opponent and gently nudged him. El Capelobo fell flat on his back, still mesmerized by her song. She placed her boot on his chest. The ref hurled himself to the ground next to El Capelobo and pounded on the ring three times. The crowd cheered as the emcee declared Esmeralda the winner.

& & &

“I take it you understand what I was trying to tell you now?” Unxchaput asked as Gabriel staggered into the lobby.

“She’s some kind of…of…  bruja!” Gabriel blurted out.

“No. She’s a… dryad. Yeah, a dryad. Pretty sure that’s what they call themselves. They’re everywhere, or they used to be. Wherever you find a nice forest or pretty meadow, you’ll find one of them. Her kind specializes in singing.”

“A dryad you say? So… she’s not even… human?”

“Nope. But they look human, so they don’t have to hide. Sometimes they’ll even live among humans for a bit but they always go back to their meadow or stream. Otherwise, they die. She’s probably going to leave you as soon as she wins Xolotl’s blessing. And then what? Without her to protect you, El Loogaroo will get you. You have no way to protect yourself. Unless you win the tournament. Then he can’t touch you.”

“You two are becoming best friends! I’m almost jealous!”

“Congratulations on the win!” Gabriel beamed as Esmeralda approached the podium. If she could tell he was faking, she didn’t let on. 

“Thank you, mi amor, but you’re up!” She took his hand and led him back to the arena. 

“Esmeralda, we have to talk,” Gabriel said once they left the lobby.

“Can’t it wait? You’ll be late to your match!”

“No, querida, it can’t,” Gaber insisted. “Are you even human?” He thoughtlessly blurted out. The emotions that flashed rapidly across Esmeralda’s face – pain, anger, fear, resignation – answered the question.

“No,” she admitted. “I’m a dryad. But it’s okay, mi amor! We are compatible! Tons of my sisters have wed men and gone on to raise families with them, just like you and I plan to! We can still have a life together!”

“Well… but… Why didn’t you tell me about this tournament?” 

“Alright, I knew this was coming,” she sighed “Look, I knew you’d never believe me if I told you about… about… any of this,” she waved to the empty hall. “About who I really am. About the hidden world right under your nose.”

Gabe grunted. 

“And even if you believed me, I didn’t think I could convince you to enter the tournament to help me win. But I knew you could beat El Loogaroo, just like I know you can beat El Caiman! Don’t you see? You’re my secret weapon, mi amor! That’s why I left the flyer on Jack’s windshield.”

“Wait. You told Jack about this?”

“Yes, and it worked! You’re here now, and with your help, I’ll win the tournament and get Xolotl’s blessing!”

The fanatical glint in Esmeralda’s eyes frightened Gabriel.

“Why do you even need it? You have a good life! We’ll have a good life!”

“You don’t understand. Your kind-

“My kind?”

“Yes, your kind. People. Humans. It’s not all of you of course. You’re a good example. You’re gentle and kind! Honestly, most of your people are just trying to live out your lives. It’s the bigshots at the top who are the problem. They’re the ones despoiling the forests, despoiling my home! With Xolotl’s blessing, I can stop them! One CEO here, another there, and eventually they’ll get the message. The forests are off-limits.”

“So this is all about trees for you?”

“Yes, mi amor! Your people are encroaching on the rainforests, and the way things are going, it’s just going to get worse. In the past, there was balance. Humans were too few to deplete the forests, but with all the contraptions and medicines your people make… you’ve broken that balance. There’s just more and more of you, living longer and longer. Much longer than nature intended, and the more of you there are, the more land you’ll need. You’ll devestate the land, cut down the forests. My forest. My home… It’s inevitable. It’ll be a miracle if there are any trees left by the end of the century, and once they’re gone… My kind will be gone. I’ll be gone. That’s not even the worst of it. You can’t imagine how important it is to preserve the forests! Without them, life on this planet just can’t exist!”

“You’re right, I can’t imagine. But surely there are better ways than murder!”

“No. There is only one thing those in power understand, and that is violence. I’ll remind them why they once feared the forest. Why they feared to enter the jungle,” she grinned wickedly.

“And if your plan doesn’t work?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get there,” Madremonte answered.

El Caiman, Gabriel’s opponent, was some sort of scaly, green skinned, man-shaped monster in red pants and black boots. He pranced around his corner of the ring as the emcee worked the crowd. Dried blood from previous matches glistened from El Caiman’s claws and fangs. He pointed to Gabriel, then mockingly pantomimed munching on pretend bones to the crowd’s delight.

“Madre de Dios,” Gabe whispered, then crossed himself, prompting the crowd to jeer at him.

The bell rang, and before Gabriel could react, El Caiman was on him. He sent Gabriel hurtling towards the ropes. If it wasn’t for them, Gabriel would have kept going for another ten, fifteen feet easy. He used the ropes to propel himself back to the center of the ring and slammed into El Caiman. All his two-hundred and fifty-seven pounds connected with the scaly man-shaped monster.

El Caiman barely budged.

He picked Gabriel up by the shoulders and tossed him to the other end of the ring. Dazed, Gabriel tried to get up, but his opponent grabbed him by the shins, his right hand over Gabriel’s left boot, directly on the hidden pocket where Gabriel kept his silver cross. El Caiman screamed in pain as he let Gabriel go.

Gabriel rolled away. El Caiman was on his knees, clutching his right hand.

Finding his second wind, Gabriel charged. He knew he couldn’t win with sheer force, so he placed his opponent in a choke hold. El Caiman tried in vain to shrug Gabriel off, to no avail. He lost his footing and toppled backwards, landing on Gabriel, his lower back pressed against Gabriel’s left leg.

Bellowing in anguish, El Caiman tapped the ring three times. The ref blew his whistle, and Gabriel let his opponent go.

El Caiman rolled away, teeth gnashing in pain. Some in the crowd noticed a tiny, cross-shaped burn on his back. Those that did booed as the emcee declared Gabriel the winner.

& & &

“Congratulations!” Esmeralda declared when Gabriel found her in the stands.

“Thanks,” he smiled half-heartedly. 

“It will be you and me in the quarter finals. Remember the plan,” she winked as the next match started.

In the ring, Pishtaco faced Peuchen, a deformed old man well past his prime, but Gabriel knew appearances were deceiving. The bell rang, and Pishtaco charged. The crowd once again went wild as Pishtaco seized the old man by the throat, lifted him off his feet, and pulled him towards his gaping mouth.

“Madre de Dios,” Gabriel crossed himself. He had no wish to witness a repeat of Tzizimite’s fate, but he could not will himself to look away. Gabe braced himself for the gruesome sight, except Peuchen sort of… rippled. His flesh burst as muscular coils escaped his body and then coalesced into a giant, man-faced serpent. He coiled himself around Pishtaco and squeezed. 

“This is bad,” Madremonte muttered.

“What? I thought we didn’t want Pishtaco to win.”

“We don’t want him to win the tournament. He needs to win this fight. I can beat him, but I don’t have a chance against Peuchen. Neither of us do.”

Pishtaco struggled to break free from the serpent’s grasp, but it just squeezed tighter and tighter. Pishtaco gave up his futile efforts and started to… stretch. He grew thinner and thinner, until he managed to slide out of Peuchen’s grip. He grabbed the serpent’s tail and hurled the giant snake out of the ring. Peuchen sprouted a pair of wings and managed to stabilize himself, so he didn’t land on the crowd, but he was out of the ring. The ref started counting down from twenty. If he reached zero, Peuchen would lose.

Peuchen circled above the ring, then dove at Pishtaco, who rolled out of the way and reached out to catch Peuchen’s tail. He slammed the serpent on the ring, then grabbed one of its wings and ripped it off. Peuchen wailed in agony. His flesh rippled again and rearranged itself into a man-sized bat creature. He screeched at Pishtaco, who covered his ears. This bought Peuchen enough time to get from under his opponent.

Both scrambled to opposite ends of the ring, Pishtaco bleeding from the ears, Peuchen nursing his right shoulder. Peuchen’s flesh rippled once more, and this time, he took the shape of an anthropomorphic owl with enormous eyes.

“That won’t work,” Madremonte chuckled. “Not like that, at least.”

“What won’t work?”

“Hypnotism.”

In the ring, Pishtaco charged at Peuchen, who was too slow to avoid the attack. Peuchen fell, headless, as Pishtaco spit feathers out of his mouth.

& & &

Once again in the ring, Gabriel faced Esmeralda, who, to the crowd’s delight, blew a kiss at him. She started singing as soon as the bell rang. After a few verses, she beckoned for him. Gabriel stumbled towards her, as if in a daze. She reached out to push Gabriel over, much like she had with El Capelobo.

Unlike El Capelobo, however, Gabriel seized her outstretched arm, then yanked her towards him, causing her to lose her balance. The crowd gasped as he quickly turned her around and placed her in a choke hold. Though Esmeralda had agreed only to pretend to use her powers, Gabriel had kept his earplugs on just in case.

“Why?” Esmeralda choked.

“You used me!” Gabriel growled. “This whole time you just wanted me here to help you win! Everything was a lie!”

“Not… all.. lies…” Esmerald wheezed.

She struggled against him. 

She elbowed him.

She reached for the ropes.

If she could latch on to at least one, the ref would make Gabriel let her go. So, he dragged her towards the center of the ring.

“Stop,” she pleaded. “You… don’t… stand a chance…”

“Neither do you!” Gabriel growled. He knew he was no match against Pishtaco, but if there was any hope in preventing Pishtaco from obtaining Xolotl’s blessing, it did not lay with Esmeralda either. Hypnotism wasn’t going to work. It already failed twice. At least Gabriel had the cross on his mask. It worked against El Loogaroo. It may very well work with Pishtaco.

Esmeralda squirmed for what felt like eons until she tapped Gabriel’s arm three times and the ref called the match. Gabe let her go. He reached for her as she fell on her knees, but she shoved him away. “Maldito idiota!” she cursed at him, then retrieved her engagement ring from a hidden pocket in her costume and hurled it at Gabriel’s feet. “There’s no way you can beat Pishtaco! You’re dead! You’re dead! What we had was real! I never used my abilities against you!” She fled the ring sobbing.

& & &

Fifteen minutes later, Gabriel faced Pishtaco in the final.

He’d thought about conceding to the monster, but the thought of something like Pishtaco stalking the world unopposed unsettled him. There were enough human monsters running around; the world didn’t need another one. Not that he thought he could actually beat Pishtaco, but he had to try. He was the only thing standing between the world and the bloodbath Pishtaco would surely unleash. The crowd hurled insults at him as he crossed himself and uttered a quick prayer.

Gabriel braced himself when the bell rang, but his opponent didn’t charge. He seemed reluctant to engage Gabriel. Cautiously, Gabriel tried to close the distance between them, but Pishtaco kept his distance. They circled each other. Out of nowhere, Pishtaco roared, brandishing rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth. In previous matches, Pishtaco sought to end the fights as quickly as possible, but now he seemed… cautious. His eyes flickered between Gabriel’s eyes and the cross his mask.

Emboldened, Gabriel charged. He grabbed Pishtaco’s shoulders and attempted to grapple him to the ground. Pishtaco tried to bite him, so Gabriel let him go. In doing so, Pishtaco’s right leg became entangled with Gabriel’s left leg. The monster howled in agony as they both went down.

Gabriel quickly rose to his feet; if his mask didn’t face Pishtaco, he knew he was dead.

Pishtaco, however, remained on the floor, shrieking in pain as his right leg dissolved. It stopped at his knee, but the damage was done. No way he was getting up. The ref called the match and the emcee declared El Santo Negro the winner.

The crowd erupted in anger.

“Cheater! Cheater! Cheater!” The crowd chanted.

The referee and the emcee turned towards the balcony. The crowd grew silent as Xolotl lazily raised himself from his couch, yawned, and stepped down from the balcony directly onto the ring.

Gabriel couldn’t explain it. One moment Xolotl was forty feet above the arena, then next, he was in the ring.

“Servant of Yahweh,” Xolotl addressed him, “are you prepared to receive your reward?”

Gabriel was dumbstruck. Xolotl wasn’t wearing a skeleton costume. He WAS a skeleton. And his face. His face, that hideous face.

Xolotl laughed as Gabriel quaked with fear. His laughter sounded like wind stalking recently used gallows.

“I know not what game Yahweh plays. You will suffer for this victory. I imagine it will serve your master’s purpose, somehow, and for that, I pity you. Servant of Yahweh, accept your prize.”

Xolotl reached out and placed his palm on Gabriel’s forehead, and the world went dark.

 & & &

“What happened?” Gabriel croaked as he came to. He found himself in a hospital room.

“You came back to us! How do you feel?” Jack asked.

“Gabriel,” El Santo Negro corrected his manager. His head pounded. His forehead itched. “What happened?” Gabriel repeated. He reached up to scratch his forehead through his mask, but he received a painful shock when he touched the mask.

“You tell me! You never came out! When the sun set, I tried to go in to look for you, but the bouncer was gone, and the door was locked. It was the only way in, so I fetched the police. They forced the door in, after I gave them a little incentive,” Jack made the universal money symbol with his right hand. “Building was completely empty! A wreck! Like no one had been in there for years! Remember that neon sign? Gone! We followed your footprints in the dust. Found you just lying on the ground in this room with a shrine to some dog-faced skeleton thing. I was afraid they stole your kidneys!”

“Ma… Ma…” Gabriel stuttered as he tried in vain to invoke the Virgin Mary. He reached for his silver crucifix.

“Here,” Jack held it out to him. “It was lying next to you. Made sure to grab it before any of the policemen saw it. You know how sticky their fingers are.”

Gabriel reached for the crucifix. It stung. He dropped it.

“Got away from you,” Jack smiled as he picked it up.

“Just. Just put it on the counter, please.”

“Take this,” Jack handed him a glass of water. Gabriel gulped it down. “What happened in there, Santo? I got a peek at the lobby when we first got there, and it didn’t look anything like when the police busted in.”

Gabriel’s head reverberated with pain. The itching sensation on his forehead felt worse; like someone was pressing a hot, cross-shaped brand on it. It was driving him insane.

“I don’t know. How long have I been out?”

“Twelve? Thirteen hours?”

“Di…Di…” Gabriel was unable to blurt out ‘Dios mio.’ The words wouldn’t come out. Something prevented him from voicing the prayer, just like he couldn’t say ‘Madre de Dios’ only moments earlier. 

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

An equally horrifying thought struck Gabriel. “Hey, you didn’t let them…?”

“Of course not!” Jack answered. “No one gets a peek under your mask as long as ol’ Jack Donavan’s around. You know that.”

“I appreciate that, Jack. You’re a good manager,” he lied. “Listen. I think. I think I need to get some more rest.”

“Sure Santo, sure. I made sure you’d have some privacy. That right there,” he pointed to a closed door across the room, “is your own bathroom, okay? And I’m right outside the door. No one gets past me. You need anything, you holler at ol’ Jack, okay?”

Gabriel counted to fifty after Jack left the room, then ripped the mask off. With the mask gone, he felt much better. Not only had the burning sensation disappeared, he felt… stronger… lighter… and something else. More aware. He could smell Jack’s cologne from outside the room, and he could hear the nurses quietly gossiping about both him and the Yanki at their station, a good fifty feet away down the hall.

He brushed his hair back as it fell into his face. As he did, he felt… something on his forehead.

“No…”

He shuffled to the bathroom and looked at the mirror.

There, on his forehead, where Xolotl touched him.

A scar.

More than a scar.

A brand.

Healed, as though it had been there for years, it was shaped like the face of a heathen dog. Xolotl’s hideous face.

Winning the tournament had cost Gabriel more than just the love of his life.

It cost him his soul.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright San Ashitaka 2026

Image Courtesy: Joe Hernandez from Unsplash.com