The Dartagnan Brothers Hotel

Chapter 12

Jonas was still perplexed by the story he had just heard from Getulio. The facts narrated by the old man completely escaped the reality in which he had grown up. Despite being orphaned at a very young age, he was raised in an environment full of love from his grandparents and could never imagine a situation where a father lived so close to a daughter that he could not bond with. He thought, and reflected, on his own situation. 'Wouldn't an abortion be better at a time like that?', the question was very poorly resolved in the society he lived in, but he had long thought that freedom of choice would always be the best option. 'Too bad Getulio didn't have that chance.', he thought whilst imagining that the present they were living into would never have been possible if he had simply reached a consensus with the woman and made a different decision.
The two continued walking through the humid tunnels that formed the underground below the estate of the Dartagnan Brothers' Hotel. Walking underground made Jonas uncomfortable, it wasn't something that brought him any kind of joy, on the contrary, it made him wary and insecure. Getulio seemed to know exactly where he was going, he hardly looked around or thought before following a direction as he came upon a crossroad, although an expression of concern showed that soon Giovanni, and the other members of his sect, would know that he had escaped his prison.
'How do you feel in Lara's presence when she sees you in prison?' Jonas tried to fill the gaps left with each new story he heard from the old man.
'I try not to let feelings get involved in this situation. I just act like someone who is in prison, I show a little anger for being locked up, but I try to make the situation as good as possible' he kept his posture. 'She knows about the fights between Giovanni and me, so she also knows that my future doesn't hold high hopes. Despite her proximity to my brother, I can see my daughter as a good person, and I prefer to think of her as someone neutral within all this chaos.'
Jonas was incredulous at how a family could act that way. He knew that things were different for everyone, but he never imagined that his grandparents would treat him in any way that resembled the one he had just discovered; and, as little as he knew of his parents, through third parties, he was sure that they would never be able to put anything ahead of his well-being. However, he knew that obsession and exacerbated fundamentalism could turn even the best people into unimaginable monsters.
'What will happen when they discover you're no longer there?' Jonas tried not to express his concern.
'How should I know?' Getulio showed sharpness when replying without taking his eyes of the road.
'I thought you might have an idea... Don't you know your brother?'
'He will send his henchmen after me, obviously, but the future is uncertain.
'Will they suspect that I am with you?'
'One more question I don't know the answer to, my boy.' Getulio seemed to be getting used to the inconvenient questions.
Jonas realised that time would bring him answers, and that Getulio was in no position to make small talk. He needed to stay focused on what he was doing so that the cult members wouldn't find them. It was crucial that they managed to get out of that place without being captured.
He could remember the extension of the maze when he first saw it from the top of the stairs that started his journey in that maze. It was true that crossing the Dartagnan family traps had not been a short and simple process, but the place was not so big that it would take them so long to cross its underground. The path was practically a straight line, with some detours directed to the left which, according to Getulio, would take them to the church where the C.P.F. meetings were held.
'Be silent.' whispered Getulio as he suddenly stopped and pushed Jonas against the damp muddy wall.
He tried to open his mouth to ask what was going on, but managed to control himself and wait for whatever the danger was to pass so that Getulio could explain the reason for getting him even more dirty. He noticed that the old one-legged man put his finger on his lips, making a sign of silence, which showed how crucial it was for Jonas to keep the silence to a whole. They could not find any opening between the walls so that they could hide, they had to rely only on luck so that the darkness was enough to keep them hidden. Getulio quickly turned off the flashlight as he steadied himself without one of the crutches he had dropped on the floor, supporting his balance on Jonas's chest. He kept his eyes closed the entire time they stood still, he seemed vehemently concerned about the situation he expected to happen.
A few seconds after being pushed against the wall, Jonas could hear the trampling of people who were running down the same corridor that he and Getulio had passed. It was the same three people. Lara, accompanied by two men, crossed their path in a great hurry and without looking around.
'They've already found out.' concluded Jonas.
'Yes, and they are going towards the church to alert Giovanni, which means that the sect is already in session.'
'But what about the party?' asked Jonas as he remembered Giovanni's promise that the celebrations had no time to end.
'That's not a problem, they take turns during the party. What intrigues me is the possible reason for this meeting. I believe that they are preparing a penance for someone.'
'Someone who's at the party or someone they already kept prisoner?'
'Probably someone they've been holding for some time, they usually study  them meticulously so the punishment for a person is executed right.
'Then the session will be interrupted?' asked Jonas, imagining that Giovanni's priority would be to find Getulio.
'I think so, but we can't let them capture us.'
'I understand that we must change course. Where then?' asked Jonas as he reached the crutch that Getulio had dropped on the floor.
'On the contrary, the church is the best place we can go.'
'Won't there be security? Or people waiting for us?'
'I know my brother, he would never think that we were going towards the church. Even better, I know this place like the back of my hand, I know exactly where we can hide.'
Jonas let Getulio guide the way once again, whilst he could observe the footprints left by Lara's small feet, clearly distinct from the others left by the robust men who accompanied her.
He managed to follow Getulio for a few meters, until he realised that the old man slowed down and turned in his direction, whilst his mouth seemed to open in the same way as a slow motion video. Despite seeing a clear expression of surprise mixed with fear in Getulio's eyes, Jonas was unable to hear any of the words dissipated by the reverberated sound of his vocal cords.
What was a clear image of a man trying to tell him something, in less than a second, turned into darkness followed by a strong impact that he couldn't see from where was coming.
"Darkness took over the imaginable for a brief period of time, but the scenario that soon spread in his mind was unlike anything he had ever seen.
'Hi love.' said a distinct voice.
He was sure he knew that voice. The subtlety of the sweet sparkle that spread through those few letters, which formed his name, was the same as he had become accustomed to waking up for a long time. Joana's voice was indistinguishable.
'Good Morning.' said Jonas as he opened a big smile on his face and tried to bring his nose closer to his girlfriend's neck as he did every day. Her simple and natural smell, released by a perfect combination of pheromones, made Jonas fall in love every day with the woman who had chosen him.
'Were you dreaming?' she asked as she gently passed her hand over his forehead.
'You know what... I can't remember. I just hope I'm not dreaming right now.' he replied, always trying to keep romanticism on.
Joana let her hand slide over Jonas's chest, seeking to meet the small birthmark that mimicked what she used say was a link between the two.
'Have you heard about Plato's Myth of Soulmates?' she asked as she fixed her gaze on the small spot, lightly circling it with her fingers.
'No, but I have a slight impression that you can explain it to me...' replied Jonas as he opened a sincere smile whilst admiring the stunning beauty of his passionate girlfriend.
'Of course I can!' she said as she suddenly jumped underneath the sheets and wrapped her arms around Jonas.
He knew he needn't say anything, all he had to do was just watch as the love of his life did another one of her demonstrations of knowledge, which impressed Jonas more than any beauty she might have had.
'Plato describes in his book, The Banquet, that men, in the beginning of time, were complete beings: two heads, four legs and four arms.' she began to explain, whilst Jonas began to focus all his attention on the fascinating story that was about to come. 'However, these men began to feel so powerful that they decided to face the gods in paradise, taking it for themselves. I believe you know where I'm getting at...' she finished as she turned on the bed, pointing her bare chest upwards.
'No, obviously I don't know... Can you finish the story?'
'I love it when you get curious!' she met Jonas's gaze again whilst expelling passionate and admiring laughter.
Jonas just rolled over his eyes as if he were ashamed, hoping that Joana would return to her story as it had finally caught his attention.
'Obviously, the gods won the fight and wanted to exterminate the men from the land, but Zeus decided to give them a cruel fate, and the men ended up cut in half and thrown back into the land, as a form of punishment.'
'Why is it a punishment?'
'Besides being cut in fucking half?' she laughed. 'Because men, and now women, began to feel an unknown desire. Something they didn't know where it came from. That's what, in my opinion, the feeling of missing someone means.'
'So men lost their half forever? Is that what soulmate means?' Jonas tried to interact with the little of the story he was being able to follow so he wouldn't appear so stupid.
'Not really. Today's men, in fact, have forgotten that they were once a complete being. They don't really understand what missing someone means, but Plato explains that the fact that we were full in the past, makes us search endlessly for an unattainable love and for the intangible feeling of feeling full again. At least that's what the story means to me.' the depth of Joana's reasoning made Jonas completely lost whilst admiring the bright blue color of her eyes.
'And why is that story going through that little beautiful mind of yours in this particular moment? What drives this beautiful and brilliant brain to seek such profound answers?' asked Jonas, unable to contain the smile that suddenly appeared in his mouth.
'Do you see this mark here?' she said as she ran her finger over Jonas' chest as she brushed away the chest-hair that covered the small brown spot.
Jonas was admiring the birthmark that he hardly ever noticed.
'I have the same one!' she said as she reached for Jonas's hand and took it to her chest in the exact opposite of his. 'If we face each other, our birthmarks meet. Do you understand what I mean now?'
'Yes.' he said as he blushed in a mixture of passion and embarrassment.
'I am sure that today I feel whole and full. I found the meaning I was looking for in love as it had always been a mystery to me.' Joana had an incredible way with words. She knew exactly what to say to completely hold Jonas's attention.
She hugged Jonas tightly again, making the two marks meet at the exact same point.
'Can you feel this energy?'
'What I feel when I'm with you is something so strong that I couldn't possibly measure with words, at least not the way you do it. I don't have that ease to describe love.' Jonas tried to reciprocate the gesture.
'Love is not a strong enough word, nor perhaps a feeling of such magnitude, to describe what I feel for you.' she said whilst leaving a light kiss on the small mark and resting her head on Jonas's chest.
Jonas felt an immense lightness in his body. Life seemed to have a complete meaning at that very moment, exactly as she had just described the myth of soulmates. The love of his life was lying in his arms, and time no longer made sense as eternity seemed to have a definite destiny. It was all he could ever imagine, but he could never think that he would feel anything of that magnitude for anyone in the world. Everything about Joana was perfect to him, and the love he felt for her could not be better described than how it had been by the last words she had just said.
He felt his eyes were slowly beginning to blink, but the light sleep that was taking over his mind, and the comfort he felt at the proximity of the woman he loved, were suddenly replaced by an exuberant cry of agony. A high-pitched scream, so loud that it started to echo in his numb mind. Joana no longer had the same expression of happiness, and the scene before his eyes was no longer the comfort of his bed.
'Why Jonas, why did you go do this to me? Were my words of love worthless? Did my devotion to our relationship mean nothing to you?' Joana's words tore the imperative feeling of calmness apart whilst the expression of happiness on her face was taken by one of pain and anguish that Jonas so much hated to infringe on those he loved.
The scenario was completely different. The room with the soft bed had been replaced by a dank underground that stank of faeces and urine. Dirty water was pouring from between her legs as the sole image her sobbing face flooding with tears reflected through his mind in a terrifying way.
She was no longer naked, but covered in a white nightgown with a badly knotted cloth over the neck that covered every part of her body, even beyond where his vision could reach. The bottom of the nightgown was covered by a mixture of fresh blood and the sludge created by the sewage, whilst the upper part was gradually touched by the tears of blood that Joana spilled on what was left of the shiny white of the garment. .
'Why Jonas, I loved you so much' she exclaimed as Jonas tried, and failed, to reach to his girlfriend for comfort.
He started to cry at the same time that despair overcame sobriety, because nothing he tried to do to control the situation had any effect. The more he tried to touch Joana's body, so that she could explain what was happening, the less he felt he was able to get close to the woman. Jonas began to feel a new wave of water crossing his half-opened legs, hot water, almost fervent, with a stark red color that he could only define as blood.
His body was immobile and his wishes were repeatedly rejected by his brain. He even tried to turn his face away so that he no longer had to face the truth that was before his eyes, but every side he turned to, his eyes would forcibly open and show the image of Joana screaming and bleeding.
'Why Jonas? WHY?'''
Jonas could see that he had returned to reality as that definitely felt like a dream, a situation he had never experienced in his life. He could remember learning about the Myth of Soulmates, by Plato, at school, but he had never had that conversation with Joana, much less been with her trapped in a sewer. The scenario that terrified his mind had left room for the old situation he was in before returning from that trance, and Joana's pleading cries were drowned out by the silence that reigned within the underground that was overlaid by the maze of the Dartagnan Brothers' Hotel. His head throbbed with pain, but now the pain was physical and it didn't come from inside his head like the one caused by the drugs he had been taking all night.
He ran his hand over his head, trying to clean the blood that was dripping from the blow he had taken. He had no idea of how much time had passed since he was there. He ran his hand towards his pocket, after drying the blood on his dirty pants, looking for the phone that would tell him the time, but he wasn't able to find it.
He tried to open his eyes widely and began to whisper Getulio's name in search of any sign of life, but he did not receive an answer or could perceive any sign that the old man was still there.
The marks left by the footprints indicated the presence and the direction taken by Getulio. Along with several deep shuffled boots that made clear the presence of the members of Giovanni's sect, a distinct step of an old slipper marked the unique step of the old one-legged man who, clearly, had left that place against his will, but what caught his attention the most was the same footprint he had seen before, on a clearly smaller and feminine foot, which indicated that Lara had been there.
Jonas was unable to understand why he was left at that location. It made no sense that they would leave him behind, after all, he was the one being chased that night. 'It may be that this is part of Giovanni's plans for me.', he thought as he sighed the tiredness that was inside him. He had been walking all over that place for hours without finding any indication that he might soon leave.
'Concentrate, man.', he spoke to himself as he realised he was, once again, alone. He had to get up and get out of there as soon as possible. The dirt that was taking over of his body no longer mattered to him, he didn't even bother to shake the it off as he got up from the damp floor.
The logic to be followed was that of the footprints left by Getulio and those who took him by force. It had become clear to him that soon the old man's distinct footstep had stopped following the others. The members of the sect must have carried him over so that they would not waste time on Getulio's slow limp, since his crutches had been abandoned in the same place where Jonas had the last memory of his face.
He proceeded to follow the strange steps to another crossroad. The clear image of the footprints indicated that the path taken was the one towards the left, the same way they were following to get to the small church of the hotel, the infamous place that Getulio said he knew like the back of his hand, the same place where they could seek a way out.
Jonas continued to follow, but the physical pain in his head began to give way to the pain he had been feeling before. He could clearly feel that he would soon have another one of those psychotic episodes. That would not be the best time for him to fall into the ground as he could see that he was left behind; the footprints on the damp ground were already starting to dry. The pain came in full force. A pain that he had not yet witnessed.
'Stop doing this to me!' he shouted haphazardly, remembering that Dr. Douglas had warned Giovanni that it could not be done that way, and the effects of the wrongdoing were beginning to appear.
His body rocked forward and bounced back as he tried to maintain his balance, which had been in vain, since only his mind had left his static body to return with force. The image of the wet mud with dry footprints began to become distorted. Its sharpness left room for some sequence of meaningless images. Although the headache was greater, it was unable to bring him down at this time. He continued to walk after the tracks that were now getting difficult to see.
He halted and looked back, trying to find the marks he had just passed, but there was nothing there anymore. The damp mud floor had given way to a clean white tile surface, it was so clean it looked like it had been polished just a few minutes ago. Jonas closed his eyes tightly again, trying to dispel that distinct attack he was starting to have. He even sat on the floor, waiting for the other reality to come and take control of his body once and for all as the drugs would take over his brain and put a stop to the shuffling of his thoughts.
His effort was in vain.
The footprints were completely gone. The floor continued to change color, now less frequently, allowing the white tile to become more and more prevalent. He got up again and started running in the same direction he was before.
'Jonas?' he heard mouthless voices again.
'Enough, please, enough!' he pleaded as he stood still.
Each time he closed and opened his eyes, he felt a sudden change in the way he perceived reality. The humidity and cold that prevailed in the underground of the Dartagnan Brothers' Hotel, combined with the loneliness that old Getulio had left when he was kidnapped, was giving place to the comfort of a mild climate and the feeling of cleanliness in his body carried by the touch of a warm hand on his arm, but the soft and delicate skin, like the voice that called his name, had no owner.
He shook his head and opened his eyes seeking to come back to reality once and for all. His dirty, bruised, and aching body returned to take the pains left by the events of that night, but the feeling that something was not right was latent. Jonas sought to find any remnants of concentration that he might still be able to maintain. He looked around, searching for the best way to situate himself to what was happening.
It no longer interested him if his whereabouts were known to Giovanni and the other members of the sect, if he was still there, it was because they wanted him there, well and alive.
'Anyone here?' he shouted betting on the chance of someone coming about and rescuing him out of that place.
The silence was imperative to muffle the sound of any response that might have been propagated, which was interrupted by the intense headache that returned to torment him.
His mind went back to transition between different realities, the floor turned to white tile again, which made no sense to him, since he had been lying on a bed in that small room for a long time and could not see the colour of the floor.
'Can you hear me?' another unowned voice echoed in his mind as his eyes saw only the transition from the white floor to the muddy one.
The feel of the soft-skinned hand had been replaced by a tightening of his wrist. He tried to move it, but the force was so great that he could barely move his hand.
'Am I able to move?', he thought as he realised that, until then, he had been unable to make any movement whilst he was having one of those psychotic episodes. He felt that, although his wrists were tightly attached, he could now slowly move his fingers. What looked like another one of those outbreaks, came to be perceived more and more as a reality.
'Who's there?' the words thought inside his mind reverberated through his mouth, giving voice to what was previously just an appeal for sound.
His headache started to make room into his mind so that his consciousness could take control of the situation. Gradually he managed to open his eyes and notice that his neck moved as it answered to the orders given by his brain, his mouth opened and his eyebrows frowned whilst he managed, little by little, to understand the situation and analyse what was happening.
His wrists were still trapped to the well-known dream chair. Despite being able to slightly move his neck, Jonas felt that his head movements were still limited by two side plates that prevented him from fully seeing what was going around him.
'Stay calm. We are waiting for you to wake up completely, we will soon release you to all of your movements.'
The voice was clear. Lara Farlet was there, he smelled her perfume again whilst trying to attach a face to the voice he heard, but the only thing he could see was the door to the small room where he had been having psychotic outbreaks.
He then tried to find bottles, dirty glasses or cigarette butts that he remembered being left there by the people that were tormenting him, but there was no sign of Giovanni, Monalisa, Douglas or the perverted priest, just the white of the floor that gleamed the dark red of the walls and the voice of Lara Farlet.
'Or is it Lara Dartagnan?', he thought as he waited to be forcibly removed from that chair and dragged into some kind of medieval structure where they were going to torture him until his eventual death could sufficiently serve the penance established by Giovanni.
Jonas sought to remain calm, despite knowing who those people really were. He was still treading in unknown territory and did not think he would be able to get out of that place by the use of force.
He was lucid. His thoughts surfaced inside his mind as the flood of drugs inside his head had not let it happen for a long time. He was able to remember everything that happened during that night and he knew that this was not his true reality. He knew he was having a psychotic break like the many others he had whilst wandering the most distant paths of that property. He knew the whole truth about the Dartagnan family, and he knew that his goal was still to get out of that place alive.
What he didn't know was why this outbreak was different from the others. Why was he able to move and talk now? How long before he could get back to reality?
'Finally! Welcome back, Jonas.' Giovanni's distinct voice echoed through the room, causing Jonas to lose his composure and start to cry.