La Voz Dormida

And here's the story's translation:

Toledo, April 2nd. 2005

Music was the only thing that made Nacho relax, especially classical. His mother, since he was a baby, used to put on "Claro de Luna" (a classical piece) so he would fall asleep. In the hospital, after the birth, she had to assume the fact that his baby was special, he had the Down syndrome. Nacho, between other abilities, had acquired an extreme sensibility for Art. He loved music, movies and paintings. Espeically the latter. He said he saw things in paintings, that seemed hidden at first sight. He spent hours contemplating the same painting and, occasionally, after half-closing his eyes, he smiled, amused, and nodded. Today was a special day, Sara de Ladrada y García, his mother, was going to take him that morning to the University of Toledo, where several painting by Goya -one of Nacho's favorites- were being exposed.-The exposition was going on thanks to the convinience of the government of Castile-La Mancha and Aragon.The University of Toledo was an incomparable mark. In the Imperial City, as well as its University, occurred several unbelievable facts. Witchcraft, spiritism, necromancy, cabbalah and other occult arts are undisputably part of Toledo's skin. In the same University of Toledo, a few years ago, a security guard died of a heart-attack on his night shift. His co-workers and several maids claimed that you could hear people laughing and crying, that after cleaning the floor of a room over 70 square meters wide, when they went into the next room, they heard chairs being dragged... They were absolutely alone, and after turning around and going back on their steps, they found all the chairs perfectly set up in the tables. More than two hundred chairs!! The last paranormal event took place in the early morning just a few months ago. The University was closed, and a security guard, on his shift, heard some mysterious noises in the attic, which was upstairs. During the night, the laments and strange noises made him so scared, he locked himself in an office. At dawn he called the beadle and asked him if someone -some student playing pranks, or a couple of lovers-, used to visit the attic by night. The answer was disturbing. Only he had the keys to the University and the day before, before closing and leaving the place to the care of the vigilante, he made sure the place was empty. They went to the mysterious attic immediately, and as they opened the door, that was locked, the fear and horror took over their faces... Chairs, tables, blackboards, closets and other academic furniture was piled up creating a pyramid over two meters tall!! Who or what had done such thing? Today wasn't different, something was about to happen. Nacho -just as he always did when he went out- had brought with him his MP3 player, where he mixed Heavy Metal music with his favorite classical composers. He was amused watching those small paintings they called "caprichos." Suddenly, his MP3 started playing the Symphony No. 9 in D minor, by Beethoven, his favorite composer. In that moment his eyes stopped in one of those bizarre paintings. A woman was being lifted in the air by some witches, she was flying, or that's what he thought. But there was something else, a symbol called him. Beethoven's music was getting louder and the painting seemed to talk to him. Like in an echo, Nacho heard screams, it was his mother, who, terrified, pointed at his face and asked for help while she tried to grab his arm. Macho turned slowly and saw his reflection in the glass behind him... His face! His face was changing, his characteristics were fading away... The Symphony No. 9 was reaching its zenith. Below the Volaverunt painting, Nacho dropped his MP3 player. All the characteristics of that kid with the Down syndrome had disappeared. His skin was smooth and a special brightness emanated from his sight.

• I am the Sleeping Voice, the Lord has sent me, "Missit me Dominus". There was silence, no one dared say a word. Sara -his mother- covered her mouth, keeping herself from screaming; people stared at him, a group of carmelite nuns approached him.
• How was last night's angel dust, sister Pilar? -asked Nacho as he grabbed a cross, ripping it off the surprised carmelite's chest.
• I hope the bishop rewards you -he laughed-He's always mercyful with his whores. And looking at the cross he threw it to her face.
• Today your boss will acknowledge the one who sees everything, the Lord has sent me, Missit me Dominus.
• But son, what are you talking about? Are you OK? Someone call a doctor, for God's sake! -Sara couldn't believe what she was seeing and hearing.
• Today your Pope John Paul II will die at 21:37. I am the Sleeping Voice, the Lord has sent me. Nacho collapsed after reciting that enigmatic prophecy.