Whispers of Cantunite

By M.E. ZITRO

Deep within an enchanted forest, in the heart of the mystical village of Cantunite, a world where ancient folklore and modern reality intertwine comes to life. At the epicenter of this vibrant tapestry is Doña Consue, an old sage woman whose profound connection to the gods and the land's mysteries is unparalleled.

Explore the unique folklore with "Whispers Of Cantunite." Encounter La Siguanaba, a grotesque spirit who appears to those who are unfaithful; El Cipitio, a child with backward feet who likes to play tricks and with the ability to teleport; the Screechy Wagon, a haunted ghost wagon on a mission to terrify those who are gossipers and liars; and the Cadejos, fearsome dog-like creatures of dual nature, appearing as both benevolent and malevolent dogs.

These captivating characters are not just introduced but brought to life through a vivid and immersive storytelling style.

As the people of Cantunite navigate the delicate balance between the seen and the unseen, they find solace and inspiration in Doña Consue's wisdom and guidance. It's a journey you will want to take advantage of.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.E. ZITRO
• Release date: Mar 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224235292

Book preview

WHISPERS OF CANTUNITE

By. M.E. ZITRO

Copyright © 2024 M.E Zitro

All rights reserved.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to Rosa, my mother, whose unwavering love and support have been my guiding light. Your strength and resilience inspire me every day.

I also dedicate this book to my wife, Gabriela, and our children, Fatima, Gabriel, and Matias. You are my heart and soul, and everything I do is for you. Your laughter and joy remind me of what truly matters in life.

Lastly, I dedicate this book to my best friend; my brother Jeffrey Cantu. Your friendship was a gift; without you, this would not have been possible.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want to thank God for giving me strength, guidance, courage, and allowing this to happen.

Thank you, my friend Charlie, who I know is smiling down from heaven. Thank you for your invaluable advice and encouragement. Your friendship has been a constant source of strength.

I also want to thank all the readers who have supported me on this journey. Thank you for allowing me to share my story with you.

CHAPTER 1

PLEASANT WHISPERS OF CANTUNITE

IN A PLACE where strangers were embraced, yet residents refrained from venturing beyond its bounds, a village known as Cantunite stood as an idyllic retreat. Earthy tones of the adobe, combined with thatched roofs, reflected the Cantunites' preference for simplicity over opulence.

Every sun dip below the horizon cast a golden hue on the adobe structures, the bright torches blazed the village, and the soft, flickering lights would dance through the narrow pathways, creating an enchanting and welcoming ambiance. These were the homes of a modest and lost clan.

The Cantunites loved to adorn themselves with ornaments crafted from gold and silver. Gold and silver, though worn with pride and regardless of the allure of the precious metals, held only face value for them. Their true wealth lay in the simplicity that characterized their lives.

Men relied on the strength of spears, bows, arrows, and other primitive tools for hunting and gathering, while women, with a deep sense of tradition cooked over open fires in rustic kitchens with some of their cooking utensils fashioned from the same gold and silver, serving as a reminder that the true wealth of the village lay not in material riches but in the warmth of nature, the untouched beauty of their surroundings; furthermore, the wisdom of their enigmatic sage Doña Consuelo, or known as Doña Consue.

A mighty river known as Rio Lempa held an indispensable role in the lives of the horde, serving as a vital source of sustenance and utility. Its mountain spring water provided life-giving hydration to the village and wildlife surrounding it.

Beyond quenching their thirst, the river played a pivotal role in daily life. This natural gift, flowing through their town, was a lifeline that nourished both body and spirit, fostering a deep connection between the Cantunites and nature.

The air in the village was heavy with humidity, creating a constant mist that clung to the leaves, contributing to Cantunite's mysterious ambiance. The earthy fragrance of decomposing vegetation reminded us of the cyclical nature of life and death in this primordial realm, and a symphony of sounds covered the air, from the haunting calls of exotic birds to the rhythmic drumming of rainfall on broad leaves. A cacophony of life echoed in every corner, with the rustling of leaves betraying the presence of large and small fascinating creatures.

Time seemed to stand still in this enchanted village as the Cantunites strove to live in harmony with the mystical forces surrounding them. Each day unfolded like a chapter in a timeless tale of nature's wonders and the bonds that linked the living with the spirits of the gods.

CHAPTER 2

DOÑA CONSUE’S REVERIE: A JOURNEY THROUGH NATURE’S LABYRINTH

WITH HER inquisitive nature, Doña Consue found herself lost in thought among enormous ferns and the prehistoric plants that carpeted the outskirts of the village floor, communicating with nature as she often did. She would carefully collect different types of edibles that she would place in a straw basket she always carried, forever selecting treats for the Cantunites with them in mind.

Walking over one of her favorite places, an area where the undergrowth formed a labyrinth of intertwined vines and shrubs that provided shelter for a myriad of insects and small animals, Doña Consue marveled at the hidden creatures and mysterious nooks nestled in the thick of towering trees that seemed to graze the heavens.

The place formed a verdant sanctuary with a dense canopy overhead, casting perpetual shade over the luxuriant vegetation below. Many of these trees bore exotic fruits, some unnamed and unknown to the rest of the world, turning that place into a lush and bountiful orchard.

Doña Consue listened to the calls of unseen amphibians from hidden pools, adding to the rich biodiversity that defined this prehistoric Eden. Within this verdant tapestry, the natural world held its secrets, and every step Doña Consue took felt like a journey into an ancient, untouched realm. It was a special place for her.

Many years before, in this very same place, she had witnessed an extraordinary scene as she made the finding of her lifetime that she still recalled vividly. The wings of hummingbirds hummed a melodious tune that she heard, and the graceful flight of butterflies added a rhythmic flutter. The vibrant colors of their plumage and wings blended harmoniously, creating a mesmerizing display of dance and ever-shifting patterns that painted the skies.

Hummingbirds, she believed, were the souls of fallen ancient warriors, and the butterflies carried the spirits of the deceased to the afterlife, connecting them with the realm of the divine.

On the day of the finding, Doña Consue recalls admiring the synchronized dance of hummingbirds and butterflies, which she considered a harbinger of good fortune, love, and peace—a symphony of color and movement that provided an enchanting backdrop to the serene existence of the woods. And then the miracle occurred.

Doña Consue discovered an abandoned child, whom she later named Maruca. Doña Consue knew that child possessed something special from the moment she set eyes on her. Maruca had a tattoo on her forehead that seemed to change colors, a seven-pointed star with an upside-down waning crescent moon, which lit up in blue as soon as Doña Consue picked her up.

Like a gentle breeze weaving through the trees, a newborn child gave Doña Consue a sense of enchantment. She recalls the first time she saw the curiously gazing ocean-blue eyes of Maruca; no one in the village possessed such eyes. Her eyes, deep pools of resilience and innocence, reflected the wonders of a world that had embraced her after a tumultuous start.

In the beginning, Doña Consue believed the child was blind or suffered from another sort of eye deficiency. So, she would take the child out daily for thirty minutes of sun gazing during sunrise and another thirty minutes before sunset to restore her vision.

And Maruca's skin was pale, like the inside of a soursop. So Doña Consue believed the child suffered from anemia, and as a result, her hair had turned red. And the redness had spread to her face, marking Maruca with tiny red freckles. For some odd reason, Maruca reminded Doña Consue of a carrot. So Doña Consue fed her juice made of beets and carrots every day.

Regardless, as time passed, she discovered that her ocean-blue eyes and pale skin were her natural color. My goodness, she thought to herself. "What kind of child is this? Truly, it must be a gift from Xochiquetzal," and Doña Consue thanked the goddess for the gift. From that day forward, she nurtured Maruca as if she were her own.

No one in the village knew the actual age of Doña Consue. Not even herself, it remained shrouded in mystery. She could not pinpoint the exact moment of her birth, the place it had occurred, or even the identities of her parents. These details had been lost in the annals of time and faded away through countless generations. Yet, Doña Consue could recall the place and time Maruca came into her world.

Nevertheless, Doña Consue regarded everyone in the village as her family, regardless of lineage. Her heart, as vast as the tranquil meadows surrounding the town, was always ready to lend a helping hand or share advice.

In the village, the kindness of Doña Consue was a timeless legacy, flowing like a gentle river through the lives of its inhabitants.

CHAPTER 3

SILHUEHUET AND THE LADIES OF THE EVENING

BEAUTY WAS not confined to the lush landscapes and picturesque surroundings of the village; it radiated from the remarkable women who called it home. Surrounded by the village's enchanting tapestry of women, there was another whose allure was considered even more intriguing than Maruca's, and her name was Silhuehuet, meaning a beautiful one.

Silhuehuet followed a daily routine, following a predictable pattern along the banks of Rio Lempa. With her, she brought a comb and a gold mirror. She arrived at a place where water cascaded down like an angel's wing and immersed herself in the soothing waters of the river, combing her hair and admiring her reflection in the golden mirror. She spent her time doing just that until the inevitable occurred.

Her characteristics set her apart from all the other women in the village. Her lustrous jet-black hair flowed like a waterfall, perfectly complementing her olive-black eyes that held a mystical depth. Her skin bore a rich, bronzed hue, glistening under the warm sun's embrace, and her voluptuous figure stirred a desire in the hearts of every man in the village.

While both Silhuehuet and Maruca shared a unique and called beauty, it was not their physical attributes that genuinely distinguished them but something deeper, something that ignited unrest throughout the village. Silhuehuet's beauty and her insatiable thirst for pleasure stirred disputes between couples, causing havoc in their homes.

Many of the men in the village had affairs with her and followed her daily routine, almost as if they had coordinated a specific time to meet her. Her presence cast a spell over the men, leading them to abandon their duties and responsibilities to pursue fleeting moments of passion with her.

This behavior led to family conflicts and strained relationships between couples, as wives and partners grew resentful of Silhuehuet's influence over their husbands and lovers. Notwithstanding the turmoil she caused, Silhuehuet remained indifferent to the chaos she left in her wake, continuing her daily routine along the banks of Rio Lempa, seemingly oblivious to the damage she was causing to those around her.

Either by fate or coincidence, Don Julian found himself nearby where Silhuehuet bathed, skillfully cutting down firewood to supply the village. In defiance of his seemingly frail appearance, the fifty-year-old bearded man possessed the agility and precision to deftly wield his machete, whether it was for trimming branches, gathering firewood, or, on rare occasions, settling disputes with those audacious enough to challenge him.

While other men often used twine to secure their machetes to their wrists, aiming to prevent accidents while toiling in the fields, Don Julian required no such precautions. And whenever his arm grew tired from chopping whatever he was chopping, he would pass his machete with one single motion to the other hand. In this manner, he would spend endless hours doing one of the things he enjoyed the most: wielding his machete.

Don Julian had a difficult upbringing. Influenced by his mother's superstition, he became a master ambidextrous individual. He was born left-handed but was compelled to use his right hand for everything due to his mother's belief that left-handedness was associated with the devil's influence.

​Use your other hand! his mother would scold him each time she caught him using his left hand. Initially, the young Don Julian faced considerable difficulty adjusting to this unexpected transition. Nevertheless, he adapted to this unusual demand, mastering both hands with remarkable proficiency.

This extraordinary skill set allowed him to wield a machete skillfully and enabled him to engage in various activities with equal adeptness using either hand. Nevertheless, he spotted Silhuehuet's luxuriant hair from afar, and her body shimmered in the sun's rays. Her enchanting beauty drew Don Julian's gaze like a siren's call.

​What a wonderful view my eyes have captured! he exclaimed, bringing his right hand to his chest.

​Your hands could capture something even more intriguing when you join me, Silhuehuet responded, combing her hair with a sly grin that indicated mischief.

This was not the first time Don Julian immersed himself with Silhuehuet behind the angel's wing cascade; it was a daily ritual. Don Julian spent hours with her, enjoying every part of her body. After Don Julian's departure, Silhuehuet remained at the river, eagerly anticipating the arrival of another companion.

She would be engaged in liaisons