L.D.M.

Approximately at 6 PM of the 6 of July of 2007, Modes Uria lost his mind while reading a forgotten book about astral activities.




The book was written in Asturian, and it carried a curious title: 



"Especificaciones técniques y mecanismu automáticu de les entraes d'aire na escafandra pa les esploraciones cósmiques"


insanely, Modes lost in that hour his old aerophobia while an irrational obsession started being weaved in his mind by an gnarled spider.



Modes Uria didn't want to be a simple astronaut, he needed to be a cosmonaut, with scaphander and metallic shoes, heavy like the world so... in order to this, he decided to build his own scaphander, and his own spacesuit.

His own scaphander? 



Effectively, when the irregular astronomical helmet and the shiny spacesuit were ready, Modes Uria introduced his head and his boddy in the cold apparel

boddy, his boddy



boddy


boddy?







Ha ha ha! Idiot! Idiot!




Kataklysms and venom from the sky crossed through his brain, fast as electric sharks, as soon as he was possessed by that plutonian equipment





SSSSSSSSSSHHH: all of a sudden, a voice


a voice like a spasm talked in his ear:


"Interpret the plague of this hour of bitterness as a visitation from Heaven."


A criminal burst  of laughter, abnormal and satanic echoed in his ear like iron, almost deafening him







Petrified and prey of his scaphander and his spacesuit, Modes Uria couldn't move a muscle, while the visions succeeded itselves in interminable sequence in front of his eyes.
























Because Modes Uria wasn't seen never again at the neighborhood ever since, and his place wasn't found anymore











Requiescat in pace.