The year you were born, my powers came to fruition. I developed the ability to see the dead spirits walking the earth. The archangel Gabriel came to me and explained the order of things. There are twelve bloodlines in this world that possess the ability of Seers—the bridges between humans and Heaven. This power passes down through the generations of the original Twelve Disciples: Simon-Peter, Andrew, James the Son of Zebedee, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, James the Son of Alphaeus, Thaddeus, Simon, and Judas. Not every son or daughter of these disciples has the gift—only a select few receive them. It is usually those with souls that are pure and untouched by the ways of man. We are charged with the task of helping the spirits who are left behind to reach the afterlife. We are few, but we are faithful.
It is for this reason that the people in this institution have imprisoned me. My sister, Carmensita, bore witness to my ministrations helping spirits cross over and called the authorities to take you away. She did not receive the gift and so she did not know, or care, that I was helping the ghosts. However, this is not the only reason I have been brought here.
Long ago, Gabriel warned me that someday the demons might become aware of my existence. They are as cunning as they are cruel. This is why I left Spain to come to the United States. I decided to stay mobile—to live in a city for a certain amount of years and then move in order to keep my presence under the radar, as they say in America. I do not know which particular demon or entity has overseen my capture, but I will do my best to find out and escape this place. I will keep this journal safe and record what I have found periodically, should it prove useful for my escape.
August 8th, 1993
It has been three days since my imprisonment. I have learned little, but I have at least learned something.
The head doctor is called Dr. Vulcan. I did not deduce that she was one of them until she smiled at me and I could see the cruelty, the evil, the hatred in her eyes. Whenever I am in her presence, I feel trapped. She has not revealed to me the reason for my capture, but I suspect she wants me to play some part in a plot against humanity as well as Heaven.
During my daily sessions, they send in people to counsel me. This usually consists of asking me questions about my past in order to understand how I conjure up the so-called ‘hallucinations.’ They are just humoring me. I smile and give them nothing. It is probably not the wisest idea. I know that they will start to get nasty soon. I can feel it in my bones. But I will endure. I am an Amador and I am not afraid.
August 10th, 1993
The monsters have dropped their human masks and shown me their true faces. I will not detail the things they do to me because I will not give them the satisfaction of knowing they hurt me. I am stronger than that. I will endure.
Gabriel has finally contacted me through my dreams. We discussed an escape plan based on the small amount of information I have been able to gather. At this time, he cannot extract me because of the demons’ numbers in this place. If he went for a direct assault, the demons would most certainly kill me rather than let me fall into the hands of the angels. He has learned this from experience. Instead, he said he will find another method, one that has less risk involved.
He also told me that he does not know why they chose now to abduct me, but that he will find out and he will find a way to free me. His kindness is what got me through their torture today. I do not blame him for being unable to help as of yet. The angels are charged with the safekeeping of both Heaven and Earth. They cannot put themselves out in the open because it is against the rules their Father made. But I have faith in Gabriel, in God, and in myself.
I will endure.
August 12th, 1993
The demons brought in a specialist today as their previous attempts to extract information have been fruitless. His name is Andrew. I do not think they know the truth, but I do. When he walked into my room this morning and looked at me with those dark blue eyes, I felt something.
Hope.
I cannot explain why, but I know this man is not here to hurt me. He did not ask me about my past or about my ‘hallucinations.’ He asked who I am. When I talked, he listened. He didn’t write anything down. He didn’t patronize me. He didn’t look down his nose at me like the Americans do when they hear my accent. He is calm. He is steady. He is different.
Though I do not trust him fully, I have decided to cooperate somewhat. It may be one of their tricks, but if there is one thing I do trust, it is my own instincts. My powers only take me so far. I can only depend on myself in here and that will not happen if I have doubts.
Let us hope that I am right.
August 14th, 1993