WE PLAY ON THE RADIO:
11/16 10pm-12am
Jorge Escobar peered out the front room of his humble wooden hut. The morning fog was still bitter with the smell of death. Jorge stood up for the first time all night and prepared to go outside. His dilapidated body is aged beyond seventy years. His dry, red skin is wrinkled from decades of torturous labor his father forced him into as a child and young adult. Yet he still gathers himself to make the long journey into the fields. Last night he heard something. A sound he has been hearing for the past few weeks. It was a yell. But not an ordinary yell. Jorge described it to the town police chief as a, "gato que chilla de los hoyos del infierno." The police never did a thing about it. So Jorge decided it was time to put a stop to this never ending racket that keeps him up for all hours of the night.
As he throws on his old brown, cotton poncho, he wonders if he will ever see his children again. Or perhaps he will finally be able to find his wife, Maria, who left this earth all those years ago. He took the first steps on two the wet grass. The sky is finally regaining color again as the sun is slowing making its way above the mountaintops in the distance. The fields are thick this time of year. The stalks are so high it is difficult to see anywhere around you. Jorge uses his senses to guide him through the brush. Armed only with a long walking stick, he has no idea what he is going to find on this morning. In his mind, he doesnt really care. Anything that takes him away from the mundane life of the fields he has known for his entire life is good enough for him. Finally after walking for what seems like hours, he sees something just up ahead in the pastures.
Jorge only had three animals, a dog, Pepe, and two goats, Martina and Umbroya. The cattle his father past on to him had to be sold in order for Jorge keep the farm. He was not proud of this fact, but he was glad his father was not around to see it. As Jorge got closer, he saw his goats covered in blood. The closer he gets to the animals, the more grotesque the scene. Then Jorge notices something that sends a shiver down his spine, two teeth marks in the neck of the goat. This confirms his worst fear. It has returned. The animal that drove his farm into ruins and murdered his father is back. It was ¡Tchoupchupacabra!
Jorge then hears menacing a sound. With surviving the only thing on his mind now, Jorge drops his walking stick and throws off the poncho. He begins to run. The shrieking sound is getting closer. Never has he heard anything like this before. Like an army of demons the drums are pounding. The earth rattles with a thumping of bass. High pitched sonic noises are emanating from the sky above. Jorge runs with all his might, but it is too late. The beast jumps on his back and sinks his teeth into his neck. The beast devours his body. It leaves only scraps of intestine and bone. Finished with his victim, it races off into the night in search of his next. Only time will tell when Tchoupchupacabra strikes again.
Last touched by Fr. Fitzpatrick on 11.12.07