Love in Madrid: The Horror Story of Millions of Women

By Leom

Everything starts up in Madrid, where constant thoughts torment the mind of a man, taking him to plan with insatiable thirst the death of his wife. Josefa Isabel Martnez a woman of Colombian origin, who is deeply in love with her husband. She has suffered through the years the rage that comes out of the unfounded jealousy of her husband, but this anger has never reached the extreme. Josefa is an honest woman, and thanks to this,she frequently avoids her husbands brutality. But she does not imagine that the love that she feels for him will be her weakness, because, beyond the appearances, her husband drags a previous felony that he has maneuvered to keep in secrecy.
The story has wings in Colombia as well, where Laura, Josefas sister, a beautiful nurse just started a beautiful love story with Juan, doctor and colleague at the same hospital where she works. They live together in a small town that is affected by the wars between the armed forces and guerillas in Colombia. When she lost her beloved in a terrible situation, Laura had no more remedy that resign to everything that she had sometime created with Juan and look for refuge with her loved sister Isabel in Madrid.
During her journey from her town to the borderline, Laura meets asculptor, Sebastian, young, famous and wealthy, son of a politician deceased some years ago. Laura finds herself in a position where she hasto live in his house for some days. Sebastian falls crazily in love with beautiful Laura, but she decides to continue her trip and join her sister in Madrid because she feels that after the loss of her husband, her heart is not ready for a new love.
After numerous difficulties and with the help of a close friend, Laura arrives to Spain and starts looking for her sisters address. While this occurs, in a hotel in Paris, four journalists that are part of an international association based in Berlin are running an investigation to select the European country with the highest social problems. One of the journalists of Albanian origin, a married man in his forties, is selected to visit Spain.
When he arrives in Madrid, the journalist confronts the biggest surprise of his career and is right there when he meets Laura.
For circumstances out of reach for both of them and due to an unpredictable coexistence, they fall in love, but neither one dares to admit it. Since both of them enjoy and suffer enjoying at the same time the love among them, this reaches the point in which their relationship becomes such a passionate love that only happens one night, but it is such a deep love that only has been seen a few times by humankind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496937773

Leom

LEOM KOLMNELA was born in Shkoder Albania March 14,1969. He is the author of 24 books (novels and poems) , among them 'The Return of the Emigrant” (1992) , “Destroyed I have the Soul'” (1993) , “A Night in the Public Houses” (1994) , “With the Women” (1995) , “The Door of Bad Fortune” (1996) , ”The Love” (1998) , ”The Winter” (1999) , “I Seen the World” (2000) , “Do Not Cry Mother” (2001) , “200 SONNET'S OF THE SOLDIER” (2006) , “What Somebody Wants All their Life” (2002) , “Ghost Love” (2003) , “Last Will” (2004) , “Kill to be Killed” (2005) , “Between Terror and Love in Madrid” (2006) “The Hollywood rules” (2008) 'Soul Sweat Soul' Sonnet's (2011) ..etc. Leom is the winner of various prizes in poetry. In 2000 he won the prize 'Mind of gold' in Cyprus and Best Poet' s and Poems' in international poetry. In 2008 he won 'The poet of the year' in Las Vegas. In 2004 Leom graduated as director and filmmaker, from the 'Hollywood Films Institute'. In 2010 he was the co-producer of feature film 'Magic City Memoirs' and in 2011 he produced the TV sitcom 'Miami Life'. Leom currently lives in Los Angeles, California.Is married with Justine Ndreca & have 2handsome boys Niki &CK

Book preview

Part I

1.

It was not a strategy created by him but an instinct that had betrayed him more than once. He would lock his hands on her, throw her to the ground, and mercilessly beat her with something hard until he bloodied the defenseless face. By cutting her throat with his knife, he would end her last breath. The blood torrent would squirt all over his face, painting him red, blinding him momentarily.

When he opened his eyes, he was behind his car’s steering wheel, impatiently waiting for the green light to appear after the bloody red. Then he drove away, always thinking about that scene, which had been embedded somewhere in his memory for more than six months, in that particular area of the brain where people hide their diabolical thoughts and horrendous memories.

It would not be something out of the ordinary if every day he mentally grabbed her somewhere—on any corner, in whatever position, in every perfect moment—and crushed her and then killed her as somebody would murder his worst enemy.

They had fallen in love on a beautiful December day. Marseille, France, was where they had first met, when they were both enjoying a vacation at a mountaintop ski resort. He was an amateur skier, while she was there simply by chance. It was the synchronization of destiny—the harmonization of fate and the place of purpose.

They met during a skiing competition, which he won the same day he won her heart.

It was an introduction to death.

It would have been far more merciful for her if they had not met one another that day, or if either of them had changed thoughts, trails, or location. But now he was kneeling before those heavenly thoughts that were driving him to an extreme prejudice because, day by day, he was thinking of death—her death.

2.

He had always wanted to take advantage of opportunities in life, and he dreamed of doing something special, something wonderful and grandiose, at least once—something magnificent for his morale, his dignity, something he could call powerful. It was the edge of a foreboding that constantly bothered him.

I must kill her. I don’t have any other choice. It’s the only way I’ll feel peaceful.

The dark, heinous vision of her bloodied face smashed in, and her decapitated head bounced in his mind, capturing his thoughts.

This is it, he thought. When she invites me to eat and we sit facing each other, when she begs me for wild wobbles and torrid foolishness, when she quarrels with me because I do not follow the rules, when we go shopping, when we try to make love … she probably thinks that I’m a half-witted, effete man. It’s not worth it for me to be neither prostrated nor domineering. I am and remain a slave of her feelings.

Immediately, his existence ascended.

In order to dignify him and provoke the most extreme areas of his sexuality, she slowly got on her knees, trained her half-closed eyes on his, and took him smoothly into her mouth.

Yet even that did not matter, since his organ did not react, or only reacted to a certain point where it wasn’t enough to finish its job.

Then she made an effort to change her method. She sat on his lap, transmitting her body heat. That was nice. Regardless of its preference, the brain directing that story was wandering in abstraction within certain details that were no longer his or hers, and returned to the same reference. At that point, he pictured her bloodied teeth, chest, belly button, and the most hidden edge of her sex. Disturbed, he got up, and she fell, afraid, to the other side. They looked at each other with hostility in their eyes, like mortal enemies, and slept until morning.

A new day began. She got up early to prepare breakfast. They drank coffee together and kissed softly and sweetly. She wished him a good day at work before saying good-bye.

The image of her bloodied, desecrated face played in his mind on his way to work. He initially tried to sweep it away, but that paved the way to a vexation accompanied by a headache with dizziness and nausea. This facade was his game—the only game for the cure. That is how he arrived at the factory.

The lathe started the rotations, not as usual with the screeching sound of metal, but with the disintegration of her physiognomy and with the nibs of her voice cracking. He watched the sparks of the metal clanking. The lathe’s head would take the dimensions of her head, while the dun-colored ground would ingest her pure blood through its pores. He would carefully wipe out the bloodied water and try to hide the pieces of her flesh, which were everywhere. With her bones, he was dreaming of making a mask with beads and holes to cover his face. With her ears, he would make two earrings to wear on his ears. With her lips, he would carve a pair of eyeglasses. Her nose he would weld right in the middle of his chest …

Usually, such garbage he perceived as beauty would convince him. Yet that day, he wanted to execute a shrewd plan. He planned an operation in which he would follow her to see what she really did—how she behaved and passed the long hours when she was away from him.

This way, at least I have a motive to kill her in a barbaric way, he said to himself. He stopped the lathe, hastily cleaned the small unit, and was on his way to the chief’s office.

It’s a long time until summer, he said. I want to start my vacation tomorrow.

The chief looked at him, clearly surprised. With the contract they had signed, it would be disastrous for the company if he took a vacation. He was the factory’s number-one beast. There would not be much efficiency and advancement without him. The company’s survival was at stake. He had kept that company going for eleven years.

We can’t do that, the chief retorted.

He kept his eyes locked on the chief.

Nonetheless, we can study this a bit, said the chief with a lowered voice, losing ground. It was evident that the chief knew very well that, regardless of the decision, the man standing at the desk would do what he wanted, when he wanted. Being a great worker, he was as persistent to realize the work plan as he was crazy and stubborn—always making decisions to his own liking. It was either his way or nothing at all. That is how things would always go. Others’ prosperity would come in accordance with his insanity. Thus, denying him a vacation would be fruitless.

The next day, he woke up at the proper time and went to the factory, relaxed. He gathered his stuff as the chief signed his vacation papers, knowing that he would wait fifteen more days to close the contract.

3.

It was a cold morning. He drove his car out of the building’s garage, following the same route as any other day. After he drove around the building three times, he hid the car behind a small marketplace on Calle de las Delicias. Then he got out of the car and sat in the coffee shop on the opposite side of the building.

There is no way for her to escape here, he thought, affixing his eyes on the only entrance, an iron door, which he had welded four years ago. He’d had six cups of coffee by lunchtime when she finally appeared at the stairs.

Hey! Looking dandy! Let’s see who you’re going to meet, he thought as all the caffeine ascended to his temples.

She turned left, in the opposite direction, toward Plaza de Jacinto Benavente. He let her walk about fifty steps and then followed after her slowly, as someone goes after somebody when attempting an attack. She stopped in front of a store window, looked around, asked the salesman to open the door, and entered the store. He approached the store from the opposite side, where he could see all the movements inside, and leaned on a lamppost.

She was speaking with the salesperson, a young man with animated body language. Even though more than five minutes passed and she didn’t appear to be purchasing anything, the passionate conversation continued.

He started to calculate in his mind the distance between their house and the store. It must have been about 200 meters.

The bitch has found a man near the house so she won’t get tired, huh? he thought, spitting with irritation, as if his sputum were at fault.

He continued calculating the distance, counting the buildings and spaces from their house to the store. When he looked inside the store, she had disappeared.

He caught sight of her about fifty meters farther on the sidewalk, going up to Plaza de la Colegiata. She was angling toward the subway. He dashed after her and was able to get in a couple of wagons behind her.

She stopped at the Gran Via station. He stepped out after her.

So she knows this street as well?

Considering himself a man with dignity and discipline, he had set certain rules for her ever since she became his wife. She had willingly accepted those rules. It was a sort of family constitution with specific rules, among which were:

• She should not go out alone.

• She should not go far from the house.

• She should not make friends with women separated from their husbands.

• She should not make friends with whores.

• She should not make friends with adulterous or single women.

• She should not make male friends.

• She should not gossip.

• She should not ask to go outside alone at night.

• She should not sing in his presence within the house.

• She should not ever talk about the past.

• She should not ever go through other people’s things.

• She should not flirt with his friends.

• She should not ask him to go to the theater and watch movies.

• She should not influence emotional transformations that violated his dignity.

• She should not cry or laugh.

• She should not eat meat but be on a vegetarian diet.

• She should not ask before he could answer her by himself.

• She should not keep any personal secrets regarding her intimacy.

• She should not ask to dress according to the latest fashion.

• She should not drive a car.

• She should not let her hair down when going out.

• She should not bleach her hair blonde.

• She should not pluck her eyebrows.

• She should not challenge his plans.

• She should not descend the stairs of her building more than once a day.

• She should keep the door and all windows closed when he was not home.

• She should go to the bathroom for her personal reasons only when he was not present.

• She should not sell her pride for anything in this world.

• She should not wear much makeup when going outside.

• She should not attest to her natural beauty but downplay it instead, in order to make him feel more secure. His desire throughout his life had been to have a plain but proud spouse. That way, handsome men would not even bother looking at her. If she was proud as well, she would not even bother to look at ugly men.

• If she wanted to go out during the daytime, she should ask for his approval at least one day before. He remembered that the night before, she had asked him if she could go get her hair done at a hairdressing salon in Gran Via. His obvious immediate answer was no. But in the morning, since he had his own plans, he had given her approval to go have her hair done.

• She should never oppose him. Otherwise, she would be punished in the following way:

+ She would not be able to go outside for three days, not even on the balcony.

+ She would not be able to speak with the neighbors.

+ She would only eat once a day.

+ She would not be able to take a bath for a month.

+ She would not be able to have sex for a week.

+ She would have to clean the house three times a day.

+ She could only sleep four hours each night for the duration of a week.

+ She could not ask to speak on the phone with her relatives.

If she broke any of the rules during the time of punishment, he would punish her more severely. For example, he would keep her for three days in the bathroom of their master bedroom, which had no windows. The ventilation and the bathroom light would stay off.

He would lash at her many times with a wet whip on her back. The punishment would triple if any type of sound escaped from her. He would tie her up in a chair for two days without food or drink. Or he would crucify her on the iron cross he had put in the living room. (Convinced that a new punishment method was needed, he’d made that cross overnight at his workplace and brought it home early in the morning.)

If she asked to have sex during her menstrual cycle, or if she even provoked him, there were two punishments: The first was to put his organ in her mouth, after which he would anally penetrate her. This would be repeated tens of times, until he orgasmed. Obviously, that would depend directly on how he felt physically and mentally during the time of punishment.

The second punishment was to sit on the iron chair, the sexual chair as he called it—an iron chair with a welded penis in the middle. She would stay tied up for twenty-four hours with that iron penis inside her anus.

She was familiar with the pain and discomfort, since many of these punishments had been executed during the first years of their marriage. That is why she no longer made mistakes—except sometimes when she wanted to experience a certain punishment, such as when he would put it in her mouth after penetrating her anally. Thus, when she had this fire within her, during her menstruation cycle, she would provoke him.

This was dangerous, however, because if he decided to punish her severely, she would end up on the chair with the iron penis. But that rarely happened. Nevertheless, whenever she lost patience, driven mad by the anxious urge to have sex, she would rather stay twenty-four hours with her ass nailed on the iron penis than spend that time charring within.

4.

She entered one of the hairdressing salons, greeted the people inside, and sat on a chair near the window, overlooking the street.

A young man with long hair, plucked eyebrows, and lipstick approached her.

Gay, he thought. You don’t scare me, but I don’t trust her. Because when women made up their minds to cheat, they would do so even with a donkey.

He sat on one of the chairs on the sidewalk at Cafe du Brazile and ordered a coffee.

In the meantime, she was following the hairdresser, who sat her to wash her hair.

He was drinking his seventh coffee of the day when she stepped outside.

He liked looking at her. It reminded him of an old feeling that made his body shudder. He fell in love with her as he had done on the first day they had met, but he let her continue her trail without changing his plan.

She was walking along the Gran Via when she was suddenly standing in front of … a man! His eyes sparkled. Now I’ve caught her. His head spun in anxiety, shaking in disbelief as he squinted, trying to discern from fifty meters away the character in question.

It’s Javier, my cousin. He exhaled but maintained his curiosity. Why this coincidence at this point and at this time? They must have arranged this before. He remembered that some time ago Javier had had a small newspaper stand around there, at the intersection of Gran Via and Paseo del Prado. Yet she should not know that. One of the important rules he had set for her in that so-called family constitution was that she should not engage in conversations with any of his relatives without his presence and knowledge. She was also supposed to avoid any visits from his relatives at home when he was not present. He remembered this rule well and had written it on page thirty-eight of their marriage book. She had then signed, I accept your existing terms within all rights.

She had signed every rule written in that book, all 333 of them. At the end of that family constitution, she had declared her acceptance of all the rules and regulations approved by them both. She had verbally confirmed the 333 rules as well, and they both had approved and lived by them.

Everything was explained, crystal clear. She should not break the rules, he thought to himself, convinced that she should die as soon as possible.

His cousin invited her for a coffee, pointing to a restaurant near his small kiosk. She looked around and nodded in approval.

Everything looks clear. She is acting dubiously. Why would she look around? She doesn’t have to do that if she has nothing to hide. She is just meeting my first cousin, even though I don’t really trust the shit bag. He’s divorced three wives, and it doesn’t look like it will last long with his fourth.

The cousin excused himself, quickly rushed to close the kiosk, and put up a sign with red letters. Then he rushed back to her, led the way to the restaurant on the other side of the street, opposite his kiosk, and opened the door for her. She entered. Javier followed.

None of their movements escaped his eyes, which were displaying a deep hatred that was increasing by the second.

Nonetheless, he did not look as if he were losing it. He approached the kiosk, read the sign (Out to lunch, be right back), looked around, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. Twice, quickly and deeply, he inhaled on the cigarette. He looked around for the second time and walked a few steps away to the corner of a travel agency. From there, he could easily see them in the northern corner of the restaurant, almost near the window. As they laughed and talked, he became even more convinced that he should kill her as soon as possible.

He finished the cigarette, looked at it, threw it on the ground, and stepped on it with his thick rubber shoe, which was similar to a military boot. He kept looking at them and then the kiosk.

Bastard, he silently and angrily addressed his cousin. Women are the whores of this world, but a cousin should not sniff around his cousin’s wife.

His eyes brightened. He approached the kiosk and was able to reach through a small crack in the window to grasp the edge of a newspaper. With the tips of his two fingers, he pulled out half of the newspaper. After looking around to make sure nobody was looking at him, he lit it, dropped it back in, and walked back to a bingo café thirty-three meters away. He entered and sat on a chair near the window.

From there, he watched his cousin hitting himself on the head as he rushed out of the restaurant, screaming for help.

She followed him, expressing her sorrow, and offered to help. He could not understand the purpose of her behavior, and he thought that his cousin did not appreciate her presence, for he was not paying attention to her as flames swallowed his kiosk.

A group of people stopped to look, forming a circle around the fire. The fire trucks and their disturbing noise arrived.

She started to cut into the mob of people, and after what was visibly a tiresome effort, she left the fire and the people behind, heading along Paseo del Prado.

He’d had three cups of coffee as he’d observed the entire scene. He followed her.

5.

She walked about a kilometer, avoiding Paseo del Prado by going downhill on Calle de Alcalá, cutting over again at Gran Via to finally arrive at Corte Inglés Market Center.

There, she stopped at the entrance, looking for somebody. A young woman, maybe a year older than she, approached. They hugged, exchanged a kiss on the cheek, and started to talk.

Because she was very animated, pointing in the direction she’d come from, he knew that his wife was telling her friend about the sudden fire.

I will burn you as well, he thought,