#lunardreams
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haveyouseenmyhonor · 1 year ago
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Ganondorf stole my credit information and my credit score is in shambles
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newleafskills · 1 year ago
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Congratulations to ISRO on the successful lunar landing of Chandrayaan-3! India is proud of your and this event is an important step forward in our space exploration journey.
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> https://newleafskills.com
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sairalynch · 1 year ago
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A sustainable lunar future is far from reality, as it has always been a dream. Even so, it didn’t stop scientists worldwide from learning more about the Moon with utter fascination. We may have explored Mars numerous times in an attempt to find any evidence of life that grows on that red planet. Despite the slim chances, there are no long-term solutions, and the endeavor still needs to be improved…
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laocommunity · 1 year ago
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NASA Discovers the Remains of Japan's Lunar Dream: The Untold Story of the Lost Moon Lander
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NASA Discovers the Remains of Japan's Lunar Dream: The Untold Story of the Lost Moon Lander NASA Discovers the Remains of Japan's Lunar Dream: The Untold Story of the Lost Moon Lander NASA has recently made a groundbreaking discovery that has shed light on an untold story of Japan's lost moon lander. The remains of the spacecraft have been found lying on the surface of the moon, providing a window into a little-known chapter of space exploration history. The lunar dream of the Japanese lasted only a few short months, but it left a legacy that is still being felt today. The Origins of the Lunar Dream The story of Japan's lunar dream began in 1990 when the country's space program, JAXA, announced its intention to send a spacecraft to the moon. The mission, called Hiten, was designed to study the moon's gravity and magnetic field, as well as to observe the lunar surface. #JAXA #Hiten #lunarmission In September of that year, Hiten was launched into space aboard an M-3SII rocket. The spacecraft successfully entered lunar orbit, and for the next few months, it orbited the moon, conducting experiments and gathering data. Hiten was not designed to land on the lunar surface, but it did include a small probe called Hagoromo, which was expected to detach from the spacecraft and enter the moon's gravity field. #spacecraft #lunarorbit #probe The Tragic End of the Lunar Dream Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. In March 1991, just a few months after its launch, Hagoromo was released from Hiten, but it failed to enter lunar orbit. Instead, it went into a heliocentric orbit around the sun, leaving the Hiten spacecraft to orbit the moon alone. #Hagoromo #lunarorbit #JAXAfail The Hiten spacecraft remained in lunar orbit for several more months before it was intentionally crashed into the moon's surface in April 1993. It was assumed that the spacecraft would be destroyed on impact, and the mission would be over. However, NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter (LRO) has recently discovered the remains of the spacecraft, including its engine and a large metal structure, lying on the surface of the moon. #LRO #mooncrash #Hitenremains The Legacy of Japan's Lunar Dream Although the Hiten mission did not achieve its primary objective of placing a probe on the lunar surface, it did make significant contributions to our understanding of the moon and its properties. The data gathered by the Hiten spacecraft was used to produce a detailed map of the moon's gravitational field and to identify areas of interest for future lunar missions. #lunarlegacy #Hitenmission #graviationalmap Now, with the discovery of the remains of the Hiten spacecraft, scientists have a new opportunity to study the hardware and technology used in the mission. This information could help to advance our understanding of space exploration and inspire future generations of scientists and engineers. #Hitenremains #futuregenerations #spaceexploration Summary The discovery of the remains of Japan's lost moon lander, the Hiten spacecraft, has shed light on a little-known chapter of space exploration history. The Hiten mission, launched by JAXA in 1990, achieved significant scientific results in its short lifespan. Though the mission did not achieve its primary objective of placing a probe on the lunar surface, it made valuable contributions to our understanding of the moon's gravity and magnetic field. The discovery of the remains of the spacecraft has provided a new opportunity to study the hardware and technology used in the mission and could inspire future generations of scientists and engineers to continue the lunar dream. #Hitenremains #spaceexploration #lunardream #NEWS Read the full article
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
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el mundo en la gotita / the world in the droplet
ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
El adoquinado, de un tono de durazno tan pálido como el azul del cielo, se siente extrañamente parejo bajo mis pies. Oigo una fuente en la distancia y niños ríendo detrás de mi. Cuando inhalo, el aroma de rosas llena mi nariz. A mi izquierda pasa un carruaje blanco con adornos dorados y tirado por un caballo gris con dos cabezas.
Espérate.
—¡Disculpe! —me oigo gritar a la transeúnte más cercana.
Ella deja de caminar para mirarme con ojos violetas y azules, los tonos arremolinándose como olas chiquititas.
—¿Sí? ¿Necesitas algo, señorita? —Distraídamente pasa una mano por sus rizos plateados, revelando la punta de una oreja.
—Este... sí. Esto va a sonar raro, pero... ¿dónde estamos?
La elfina me da una sonrisa perpleja.
—¿Tú te golpeaste la cabeza? Ven, cariño. Te llevo a un curandero. Quizás en el camino verás algo que te sacude la memoria. Después de todo, esta hermosa gota de lluvia de Ranya no es tan fácil de olvidar.
Ella me ofrece su brazo, y cuando me despierto, el sonido de sus risotadas suaves resuena en mi mente.
Y me doy cuenta de que me quedé dormida en el patio con los últimos vestigios de la lluvia de anoche todavía mojándome la cara.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
The cobblestones, a hue of peach as pale as the blue of the sky, feel strangely even beneath my feet. I hear a fountain in the distance and children laughing behind me. When I inhale, the aroma of roses fills my nose. To my left passes a white carriage with gold decorations and pulled by a gray horse with two heads.
Wait a second.
“Excuse me!” I hear myself shouting to the nearest passerby.
She stops walking to look at me with purple and blue eyes, the hues swirling around like tiny waves. “Yes? Do you need something, miss?” Absently she runs a hand through her silver curls, revealing the point of an ear.
“Um . . . yes. This is going to sound weird, but . . . where are we?”
The elf gives me a puzzled smile. “Did you hit your head? Come, dear. I’ll take you to a healer. Perhaps on the way you’ll see something that jolts your memory. After all, this beautiful raindrop of Ranya isn’t so easy to forget.”
She offers me her arm, and when I wake up, the sound of her soft laughter echoes in my mind.
And I realize that I fell asleep on the patio with the last traces of last night’s rain still wetting my face.
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fulviodurante · 7 years ago
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viadellafelicita · 7 years ago
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May all be enlightened 🌜🌝🌛 Ready to get charged by tonight’s full Moon #Lunardream #FlymetotheMoon in my #Sirshasana spacecraft ✨✨🚀 (à Paris, France)
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pinkiepieaddict · 5 years ago
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lunardream by TingSan
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thelunardreams · 11 years ago
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Just a random poem By Me - Lunar Dreams
Going in circles is boring,
But being a square means your boring.
What sense does this world make when you sit down and listen,
Do you hear how these women keep fussin?
How these niggaz keep bitchin?
Why is it those close to you love snitchin?
Why is it you never see a black man fishing?
Or maybe I never seen it for my self when there are African Americans that sit in a boat and fish,
I don't even know how this is relevant to this poem,
It's not something I wish.
But yes I must say this world makes no sense,
Nothing is ever good enough,
Being human is like being placed in a four cornered fence,
With barbwire's at the top of each wall,
So when you dare to be different,
You get hurt, 
Get cut,
And then you fall.
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
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la muerte en vida (5) / the living death (5)
1 | 2 | 3 | 4
ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
Sin hablar, Ashrael me jala por el jardín trasero, su agarre en mi muñeca más apretada que las esposas que dejaron marcas rojas en mi piel. Sigo abriendo y cerrando la boca, queriendo decir algo pero no sabiendo qué.
Vamos más y más lejos de la casa, mi miedo eclipsado por asombro cuando giro la cabeza y veo la casa de que traté de escaparme. Es una villa imponente hecha de mármol liso y lustrado y con columnas rodeándola como las barras de una celda. Ese pensamiento me hace temblar un poco, y mi aprensión se convierte en terror cuando me doy cuenta de las salpicaduras carmesíes en algunos de los hastiales afilados.
«¿Me vas a matar?»
En vez de eso, suelto:
—¿Eres rico?
La mirada de Ashrael sigue la mía, y el suelta una risa áspera. 
 —Soy el asesino más renombrado de este mundo. Podía quemar dinero todos los días y todavía bañarme en lo que quedaría.
—Pues... ¿Por qué todavía trabajas? Si ya tienes tantos chavos, te puedes... retirar. —Mi voz tiembla, y me aclaro la garganta.
En vez de contestar, abre una trampilla que yo no había visto en la grama.
—Entra —me ordena. A la luz de los dos soles en el cielo, sus cuernos parecen resplandecer con malicia.
Mirando el pasillo oscuro bajo la puerta, me esfuerzo contra su agarre y le pregunto:
—¿Adónde va eso?
—Al sótano. Métete ya; tengo cosas que hacer.
«Con suerte, son cosas que no suponen cortarme en un millón de pedacitos»
Antes de que yo pueda protestar, él me empuja a la oscuridad y cierra la trampilla de un golpe.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
Without speaking, Ashrael pulls me across the backyard, his grip on my wrist tighter than the handcuffs that left red marks on my skin. I keep opening and closing my mouth, wanting to say something but not knowing what.
We go farther and farther from the house, my fear eclipsed by amazement when I turn my head and see the house I tried to escape from. It’s an imposing villa made of smooth, polished marble and with columns surrounding it like the bars of a prison cell. That thought makes me tremble a little, and my apprehension becomes terror when I notice the crimson splatters on some of the sharp gables.
Are you going to kill me?
Instead of that, I let out, “Are you rich?”
Ashrael’s gaze follows mine, and he lets out a harsh laugh. “I’m the most renowned assassin in this world. I could burn money every day and still bathe in what would be left over.”
“Well . . . Why do you still work? If you already have so much money, you can . . . retire.” My voice quivers, and I clear my throat.
Instead of answering, he opens a trapdoor that I hadn’t seen in the grass.
“Enter,” he orders me. In the light of the two suns in the sky, his horns seem to gleam with malice.
Looking at the dark hallway beneath the door, I strain against his grip and ask him, “Where does that go?”
“To the basement. Go in already; I have things to do.”
Hopefully, they’re things that don’t involve cutting me into a million little pieces.
Before I can protest, he pushes me into the darkness and slams the trapdoor shut.
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
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la muerte en vida (8) / the living death (8)
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
El cuarto al que Ashrael me lleva es ambos austeramente hermoso y ominosamente perturbador. Unos cuantos estantes y gabinetes, todos del mismo tipo de madera negra, bordean las paredes; están casi vacíos menos dos frascos llenos de líquido rosáceo y una bolsita verde. En la pared más lejana hay una ventana, pero las cortinas están cerradas, bloqueando casi toda la luz mortecina.
Ashrael señala la cama.
—Duérmete.
—Este... —Miro mis pies con miedo de que se enoje conmigo por pedirle algo después de ya haberlo contrariado—. ¿Puedo ducharme? Estoy cubierta de sudor y... «Y de la sangre que está en tus manos.»
De repente su olor llena mi nariz, y un sabor metálico cubre mi lengua.
Me mira y se ríe, dándome escalofríos.
—Hoy no. No tengo ropa para ti. Al menos que prefieras...
—No —le corto, mirando al guardaespaldas parado en la entrada.
Ashrael resopla con indiferencia.
—Bien. Tengo que lavarme esta sangre de mi piel de todas formas. Esta mierda apesta.
Rozándome al pasar, sale por otra puerta en que no me había fijado, y un momento después oigo agua corriendo.
Mi primer instinto es precipitarme hacia la ventana, pero me detengo casi antes de dar un paso; el guardaespaldas ha entrado al cuarto. Sus ojos vidriosos parecen ver hasta mi alma. Tiemblo y aparto la mirada.
—Lárgate —llama Ashrael, su voz amortiguada por la pared entre nosotros—. Le das miedo.
El guardaespaldas gime, pero no se mueve.
—Confía en mí. No huirá otra vez.
De pronto el guardaespaldas vira y desaparece en el pasillo con más gracia de lo que parece posible.
—Si tratas de salir de esta casa —Ashrael me dice—, te mataré sin pensarlo dos veces.
No tengo ninguna duda de que lo haría.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
The room Ashrael takes me to is both austerely beautiful and ominously unsettling. A few shelves and cabinets, all of the same type of black wood, line the walls; they're almost empty except for two jars full of pinkish liquid and a little green pouch. In the far wall is a window, but the curtains are closed, blocking almost all of the fading light.
Ashrael points to the bed. "Go to sleep."
"Um . . ." I look at my feet, afraid he'll get mad for asking him for something after already antagonizing him. "Can I shower? I'm covered with sweat and . . . And with the blood that's on your hands.
Suddenly its smell fills my nose, and a metallic taste coats my tongue.
He looks at me and laughs, giving me shivers. "Not today. I don't have clothes for you. Unless—"
"No," I cut him off, looking at the bodyguard standing in the doorway.
Ashrael grunts indifferently. "Good. I have to wash this blood off my skin anyway. This shit stinks."
Brushing past me, he leaves through another door I hadn't noticed, and a moment later I hear water running.
My first instinct is to rush to the window, but I stop almost before taking a step; the bodyguard has entered the room. His glassy eyes seem to see even my soul. I shudder and look away.
"Go away," Ashrael calls, his voice muffled by the wall between us. "You scare her."
The bodyguard moans but doesn't move.
"Trust me. She won't run again."
Suddenly the bodyguard turns and disappears into the hallway with more grace than seems possible.
"If you try to leave this house," Ashrael says to me, "I'll kill you without thinking twice."
I don't have any doubt that he would do it.
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
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la muerte en vida (6) / the living death (6)
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
Después de una eternidad y media, por fin junto coraje para pararme y empezar a caminar por el pasaje oscuro. Ya he tratado de abrir la trampilla, pero creo que Ashrael lo cerró con llave—ni se mueve. Así que mi única opción es ir más profundo en esta nueva prisión.
Presiono mi mano contra la pared, y mis dedos aplastan algo mojado y resbaladizo.
Repugnada, levanto la mano a mi cara, pero la oscuridad me envuelve como una frisa tejida de todas mis pesadillas. Mi respiración es rápida y superficial; me encuentro incapaz de seguir, mientras que mi corazón se acelera más y más. Las paredes y el piso parecen inclinarse; pierdo el equilibrio y me caigo en algo liso y frío.
Trato de pararme de nuevo, pero mi mano se resbala. Uno de mis pulgares pasa por una apertura con muescas que me raspan la piel; froto mis otros dedos sobre ellas y llego a la peor conclusión.
Antes de que yo pueda pararlo, un grito sale de mi boca, seguido por bilis que termino arqueando sobre el montón de huesos debajo de mis pies.
Un gemido resuena en la distancia.
Luego:
—Ayúdame, por favor. Estoy... estoy muriendo.
Trato de localizar la fuente de la voz—la de un hombre, creo, pero suena tan débil que no puedo estar segura—pero antes de que dé un paso, oigo algo mucho peor: el sonido de algo masticando.
Y el mismo hombre que me pidió ayuda rugiendo de dolor, luego callándose.
—¡Ashrael! —aúllo, doblando y volviendo corriendo (y a ciegas) a la trampilla—. ¡Sácame de aquí! ¡Lo siento por haber tratado de escaparme! ¡Por favor! ¡ASHRAEL!
Pero nadie me oye; estoy atascada con cualquier monstruo que pueda estar aquí, esperando hasta que alguien me rescate o yo muera.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
After an eternity and a half, I finally work up the courage to stand and start walking through the dark passage. I’ve already tried to open the trapdoor, but I think Ashrael locked it—it doesn’t even move. So my oonly option is to go deeper into this new prison.
I press my hand against the wall, and my fingers crush something wet and slippery.
Repulsed, I lift my hand to my face, but the darkness envelops me like a blanket woven from all of my nightmares. My breathing is fast and shallow; I find myself unable to keep going, while my heart races faster and faster. The walls and floor seem to lean; I lose my balance and fall onto something smooth and cold.
I try to stand again, but my hand slips. One of my thumbs goes through an opening with grooves that scrape my skin; I rub my other fingers against them and come to the worst conclusion.
Before I can stop it, a scream leaves my mouth, followed by bile that I end up retching onto the heap of bones beneath my feet.
A moan echoes in the distance.
Then:
“Help me, please. I’m . . . I’m dying.”
I try to pinpoint the source of the voice—a man’s, I think, but it sounds so weak that I can’t be sure—but before I take a step, I hear something much worse: the sound of something chewing.
And the same man who asked me for help roaring in pain, then falling silent.
“Ashrael!” I howl, turning and rushing (blindly) back to the trapdoor. “Get me out of here! I’m sorry for trying to run away! Please! ASHRAEL!”
But no one hears me; I’m stuck with whichever monster might be here, waiting until someone rescues me or I die.
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
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la muerte en vida (4) / the living death (4)
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ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
Uno de los guardaespaldas de Ashrael entra al cuarto que se conecta a este cl��set, mirándome desde el umbral. No puedo evitar temblar un poco cuando veo su figura: un cuerpo alto con la textura de cuero, una cabeza alargada y sin cuello, ojos amarillentos y vidriosos, labios inexistentes abriéndose para revelar una boca sin dientes.
Mi voz temblando, le digo:
—Hola.
No hace nada para indicar que me oyó; ni parpadea. Solamente sigue mirándome fijamente con una expresión apagada que me da escalofríos.
—¿No vas a decir nada?
El guardaespaldas gime.
Luchando contra un miedo irracional, me paro y cruzo el cuarto hasta que estoy al frente de la criatura. 
—¿Puedo salir, por favor?
Se mueve sin decir nada.
Entro al pasillo y casi suspiro con alivio cuando veo una ventana abierta en la sala de estar. Tropezándome con la pata del sofá—el cual es del mismo tono de negro que la alfombra—corro a la ventana y levanto la persiana.
Fuera de la casa hay un césped bien mantenido y, gracias a Dios, libre de guardaespaldas. La piscina gigantesca me tienta con su agua centelleante, pero sacudo la cabeza y me enfoco en mi meta: salir de aquí.
Me encaramo en el alféizar, y algo gruñe.
El guardaespaldas, corriendo tan rápido hacia mí que me asusto y me caigo en la grama.
Cuando me paro para huir, alguien me coge la mano.
Ashrael, con tanta rabia en su mirada que todavía estoy gritando cuando me despierto en mi propia casa.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
One of Ashrael’s bodyguards enters the room that connects to this closet, watching me from the threshold. I can’t help but tremble a little when I see his figure: a tall body with the texture of leather; an elongated, neckless head; yellowish, glassy eyes; nonexistent lips opening to reveal a toothless mouth.
My voice trembling, I say, “Hello,” to him.
He doesn’t do anything to indicate that he heard me; he doesn’t even blink. He just keeps staring at me with a lifeless expression that gives me chills.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
The bodyguard moans.
Fighting an irrational fear, I stand and cross the room until I’m in front of the creature. 
“Can I get out, please?”
He moves without saying anything.
I enter the hallway and almost sigh with relief when I see an open window in the living room. Tripping over the leg of the sofa—which is the same tone of black as the carpet—I run to the window and lift the blind.
Outside of the house there’s a lawn that’s well-maintained and, thank God, free of bodyguards. The gigantic pool tempts me with its sparkling water, but I shake my head and focus on my goal: getting out of here.
I perch on the windowsill, and something growls.
The bodyguard, running towards me so fast that I get startled and fall on the grass.
When I stand to flee, someone grabs my hand.
Ashrael, with so much rage in his gaze that I’m still screaming when I wake up in my own house.
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
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la muerte en vida (3) / the living death (3)
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ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
Todavía estamos en el clóset. Ashrael se inclina hacia mi cara, obviamente con la intención de desatarme las manos, pero todavía me encojo.
Me jala bruscamente hacia él y mete la llave en la cerradura. Mis grilletes caen en la alfombra con un estrépito amortiguado, y mi mirada se desvía hacia el demonio que me liberó. El que me encadenó en primer lugar.
—¿Por qué me raptó tu guardaespaldas? —Le tomo la mano para que no se vaya. Su piel es mucho más suave de lo que yo esperaba, sus uñas cuidadosamente recortadas.
Sus ojos se ensombrecen, el rojo de sus iris aterradoramente intenso. En vez de contestar me pregunta:
—¿Cómo te llamas?
—¿Por qué te importa? —le reto.
—Quiero saber cómo llamar tu atención. A fin de cuentas, si te vas a quedar aquí, tendremos que conversar en ocasiones.
Me toma un momento procesar sus palabras, pero cuando lo hago, parpadeo con sorpresa. 
—¿Voy a quedarme aquí? En este...
—¿Este infierno? Sí, desafortunadamente para ti. —Su teléfono suena y él pone los ojos en blanco—. Tengo que trabajar ahora. Mis guardaespaldas te cuidarán. Eres libre de usar cualquiera de mis cosas que quieras, pero no entres al sótano. Y no comas nada al menos que quieras churras.
Se carcajea, mostrando dientes finos y larguiruchos, y empieza a salir del clóset y del cuarto contiguo. Mientras sus pasos se alejan, lo oigo gritar:
—¡Traten bien a Ceres! Ella no es como los otros.
—¡Oye! —Intento pararme, pero mis piernas me tiemblan demasiado para soportarme—. ¿Hay otros humanos aquí, en esta casa? ¡Ashrael! ¿Ashrael?
Nadie me contesta; estoy sola. Los guardaespaldas no cuentan—no los veo, y no creo que hablen.
Solamente cuando me siento otra vez a esperar por nada me doy cuenta de que usó mi nombre sin que yo se lo dijera.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
We’re still in the closet. Ashrael leans towards my face, obviously with the intention of unbinding my hands, but I still cringe.
He roughly pulls me towards him and stuffs the key into the lock. My shackles fall on the carpet with a muted clatter, and my gaze drifts to the demon who freed me. The one who chained me to begin with.
“Why did your bodyguard kill me?” I take his hand so he doesn’t leave. His skin is much softer than I expected, his nails carefully trimed.
His eyes darken, the red of his irises terrifyingly intense. Instead of answering he asks me, “What’s your name?”
“Why do you care?” I challenge him.
“I want to know how to get our attention. After all, if you’re going to stay here, we’ll have to converse on occasion.”
It takes me a moment to process his words, but when I do, I blink with surprise. “I’m going to stay here? In this . . .”
“This hell? Yes, unfortunately for you.” His phone rings and he rolls his eyes. “I have to work now. My bodyguards will watch over you. You’re free to use whichever of my things you like, but don’t go into the basement. And don’t eat anything unless you want explosive diarrhea.”
He cackles, showing thin, spindly teeth, and starts to leave the closet and the adjoining room. While his footsteps get farther away, I hear him scream, “Treat Ceres well! She’s not like the others.”
“Hey!” I try to stand, but my legs are too wobbly to support me. “Are there other humans here, in this house? Ashrael! Ashrael?”
No one answers me; I’m alone. The bodyguards don’t count—I don’t see them, and I don’t think they talk.
Only when I sit again to wait for nothing do I realize that he used my name without my telling it to him.
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
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la muerte en vida (2) / the living death (2)
1
ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
Alguien tose.
Estoy tan asustada que casi brinco antes que enterarme de que no puedo—amarrándome al piso hay cadenas de metal. Trato de separar mis pies, pero tengo los tobillos atados.
—No te muevas —manda una voz suave y profunda—. Te desato ahora.
—¿Quién...
—Cállate.
Se prende una lámpara, bañándome en luz amarilla, y veo que estamos en un clóset vacío. En la entrada está parado un hombre cuyo aspecto me llena de terror puro. Las mismas alas grises, el mismo pelo caoba, los mismos cuernos afilados... Esto no puede ser.
TENGAN MIEDO.
Él se arrodilla en la alfombra negra, y me doy cuenta del llavero tintineando en su mano.
Me agarra la pantorrilla, y me pongo tensa.
—Tranquila —susurra el demonio—. No soy yo el que te haría daño. Esta ciudad no es segura para los humanos. Tuviste suerte de no caer en las manos equivocadas.
Ignorando la preocupación de que esa última oración me llena, aprovecho de su cercanía y mi nueva libertad para preguntarle:
—¿Quién eres? ¿Y quién fue el que me... que me...
—Ese era uno de mis guardaespaldas. —Para y se queda mirándome, juzgando mi reacción, y trato de quedarme quieta—. Y a mí me dicen  «La Muerte en Vida», pero tú puedes usar mi verdadero nombre: Ashrael.
—Ashrael —murmuro. 
Cuando me despierto, todavía tengo la última sílaba en la punta de la lengua.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
Someone coughs.
I’m so startled that I almost jump before finding out I can’t—binding me to the floor are metal chains. I try to separate my feet, but my ankles are bound together.
“Don’t move,” commands a smooth, deep voice. “I’ll untie you now.”
“Who—”
“Shut up.”
A lamp turns on, bathing me in yellow light, and I see that we’re in an empty closet. In the doorway is standing a man whose appearance fills me with pure terror. The same gray wings, the same auburn hair, the same sharp horns . . . This can’t be.
BE AFRAID.
He kneels on the black carpet, and I notice the key ring jangling in his hand.
He grabs my calf, and I tense.
“Calm down,” the demon whispers. “It’s not me who would do you harm. This city isn’t safe for humans. You were lucky not to fall into the wrong hands.”
Ignoring the worry that that last sentence fills me with, I take advantage of his nearness and my newfound freedom to ask him, “Who are you? And who was the one who . . . who . . .”
“That was one of my bodyguards.” He pauses and stares at me, judging my reaction, and I try to stay still. “And they call me ‘The Living Death,’ but you can use my real name: Ashrael.”
“Ashrael,” I murmur.
When I wake up, I still have the last syllable on the tip of my tongue.
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lunar-luminals · 4 years ago
Text
la muerte en vida / the living death
ESPAÑOL 🇵🇷
La ciudad fluye alrededor mío, gente yendo, gente viniendo. Pero yo me quedo inmóvil en el adoquinado, preguntándome dónde estoy, preguntánome cómo terminé aquí. El ala blanca de alguien me da en la cara mientras su dueño me pasa, y termino mirando el cielo rojo y los rascacielos que no lo alcanzan.
Pintado en uno de ellos es una imagen de alguien que tiene que ser un demonio. Sus alas, con plumas de un gris tan oscuro que casi parece negro, cubren completamente este lado del edificio, y sus dedos pálidos están doblados como garras. Ojos rojos y estrechos me observan desde arriba de una sonrisa de superioridad. No puedo evitar darme cuenta de sus cuernos largos y retorcidos y las palabras escritas encima de ellos:
TENGAN MIEDO.
Algo áspero me toca. Trato de gritar, pero una mano sin dedos presiona un trapo acre en mi cara. No puedo respirar. ¿Algún tipo de cloroformo?
Cuando me despierto, la primera cosa de que me acuerdo es una cara con una boca flácida y desdentada y ojos apagados y vidriosos.
ENGLISH 🇺🇸
The city flows around me, people going, people coming. But I stay immobile on the cobblestones, wondering where I am, wondering how I ended up here. Someone’s white wing hits me in the face while its owner passes me, and I end up looking at the red sky and the skyscrapers that don’t reach it.
Painted on one of them is the image of someone who has to be a demon. His wings, with feathers a gray so dark it almost looks black, completely cover this side of the building, and his pale fingers are bent like claws. Narrow red eyes observe me from above a smirk. I can’t help but notice his long, twisted horns and the words written above them:
BE AFRAID.
Something rough touches me. I try to scream, but a hand without fingers presses a pungent rag to my face. I can’t breathe. Some kind of chloroform?
When I wake up, the first thing I remember is a face with a sagging, toothless mouth and dull, glassy eyes.
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