Are you reading this? I’m glad you are. It only means one thing: Cardozo has survived and succeeded. Private Colin Valhminsky reporting on Operation Sand Eagle. I don’t have much time left, therefore, I will make it as brief as possible but I still have to include all the useful details.
My team members and I were part of a black or unofficial operation force on a mission in Latin America. Our task: investigate, locate and neutralize a small group of smugglers specializing in the sales of weapons, ranging from firearms to deadly gas, all stolen from our government earlier this year.
One night, after a successful raid and the capture of four smugglers, we set camp in the desert and prepared for the final strike that had to occur the following day. As the Radio Telephone Operator of the group, RTO for short, I had all communications equipment set right next to my transparent EMF tent to protect myself from all the electromagnetic energy while I sleep.
During the darkest hours of the night, I was awakened by a radio transmission. I sat up, unzipped the tent and got ready to respond as soon as the message was fully delivered. However, I quickly noticed that the transmission came from an unknown source as a sick man rambled on about some disturbing stuff:
“…mere mortals do not comprehend, but the chosen ones will. Our goddess Syhralon nobles intentions transcend the human psyche, so I had to become something more, before I could comprehend, before I could be chosen to wield the Syhralon Claw bestowed to me, the one who performs the sacred ritual of pacification, to prevent her wrath and the extinction of humanity…”
The same thing was playing on everyone’s radios, since the ones on watch duty all looked at me, and the others resting, exited their tents, radios in hands and also looked at me. Confused, I tried to fight the hack, but nothing could stop the transmission. This is when Spence fired shots at something.
We all took our firearms, ready to fight what we thought were fellow smugglers trying to free the ones we had captured earlier. Instead, as crazy as it may seem to you, there was only one pale man, dressed with a hooded cloak, wielding a dagger, disappearing and reappearing at will, and teleporting himself across short distances.
He attacked Spence first, slashing him with the kind of mastery, rapidity and precision that I only remember seeing in ninja or superhero movies. After Spence, he turned to the four prisoners that were still tied up, using the exact same gestures and techniques, he attacked and slaughtered three smugglers but left one unarmed, while we all shot at him to no avail.
The man teleported himself in front of whoever he chose to slaughter next. Bullets seemed to just go through him without any damage. At some point, I noticed the insects crawling out of the mouths of the corpses he was leaving behind him. The memory of such occurrence struck me like lightning, and I remembered elements from what a friend had told me about the classified 2005 incident.
Looking around him helplessly, the only smuggler the murderer did not slaughter earlier had mysteriously freed himself, and was walking backwards, trembling with Spence’s rifle between his hands. He seemed unable to see the killer for whatever reason and was walking in the direction of his own demise. Pat and I, the only two soldiers still standing at that moment, screamed at him and gestured him to move away from our shooting range and his own death.
When the smuggler’s path and the killer’s met, Pat and I expected the man to unleash his full cruelty on our prisoner. Instead, the killer just walked through the smuggler like some kind of ghost. I suggested Pat to take shelter in my EMF tent as I had one last plan before that monster gets to us, but Pat had a plan of his own, and refused to follow me.
While I ran to my tent, I glimpsed the smuggler running past the killer, as he chose to follow me inside the EMF tent, while Pat launched a grenade towards the mystical entity. We all froze after the explosion, watching the outcome and wishing for the best, only to see the man walk out of the fire unarmed, his clothes not even in flames.
I entered the tent, followed by the prisoner. I saw that man lifting Pat by the neck with one arm and slaughter him taking his time, before he dropped him and started to walk calmly towards the EMF tent. I braced myself, arm in hand, ready to defend myself till my last breath. The killer approached, ready to tear the tent and get to us as he clenched his bloody dagger. I aimed when he was a few meters away from the tent.
He stabbed the tent and immediately got repelled. He tried a second time and obtained the same result. He tried a third time to no avail. I lowered my weapon and sighed in relief. I guessed right from the elements I could gather from the 2005 incident. That entity, though supernatural, seems to operate on the electromagnetic spectrum, as if he was himself some sort of radio transmission, therefore, he cannot get through a Faraday cage or an EMF tent, that I started bringing with me for almost every mission since I learned about the 2005 incident just in case.
The killer lowered his dagger and just stood still, staring at me. The smuggler was looking at me and at something outside repeatedly, trembling uncontrollably. I asked him if he was looking forward to die and if he was unable to see that monster. When he saw me talking to him, he shook his head and then tapped his ears with his two hands, still shaking his head to make it clear that he could not understand me. He was deaf.
I found my old mobile phone and tried to take a video of him, but he was invisible to the camera. I think about it now and realize that I could record everything that I wrote, but I guess that I was no longer thinking straight. I then used the text editor to write what you are reading, and also to interact with the smuggler using my average Spanish:
“Can you see him?” I typed, before passing him the phone for him to read then type a reply.
“No.” He replied. That had to be the reason. He had not heard that bizarre message about a goddess, her chosen ones and some cleansing, therefore, he could not see that man.
“What is your name?” I typed.
“Cardozo” He replied.
“There is no escape from this fate. You have been chosen for the pacification. Accept the great honor to be chosen by Syhralon.” The killer spoke through the communication equipment, still intact next to the tent.
“Look Cardozo, I have started writing something with this phone. It is everything that happened here. Please keep it with you. Do not show it to others. When you can, find internet and post it everywhere you can. This should not be a secret, everyone has to know.”
“How will I go anywhere from here? What about you?”
“Don’t worry, if you cannot see him, he cannot see you too. You are safe. But all this info has to be recorded and added to what we know from the 2005 incident. As for me, my time is up.” I replied, knowing exactly what was about to unfold.
Pat was only trying to survive, but the grenade, the explosion, the fire and the smoke alerted the other smugglers. I can hear them coming at full speed as I type these final words. They will come and get us out of the tent and in doing so, the killer will reap me apart. They will then all know the same fate after hearing the voice of evil, unless they are deaf like Cardozo, the only way I know to escape the killer.
I can see him smiling under his hood. The fire burning behind him validates the hell he must be coming from. His pale skin seems either covered with black veins or rather with black cracks, all converging towards his entirely black eyes, void of any emotion. The black blood that flowed from his slit open throat and stained his cloak as well as the medieval uniform underneath, reaffirmed his evil origins.
To Sarah my love, to Stacy and Hailey my precious flowers, I will always love you. To everyone out there, please, stay safe.