Andrés knew that Santa Muerte would let him know who she wanted for her shrine. He scrolled through Grindr looking for her to pick someone as he walked through the streets of downtown Cancun. That’s when he saw the blond American’s profile. What was he doing here, the college kids on Spring Break rarely left the tourist zone. Maybe he was looking for a real chacal. He knew an American could be tricky, but would also bring him more power. Gracias, mi Diosa. Él es tuyo.
He found the kid at a sidewalk cafe, alone with a beer. The sun was barely down. It was early. Not many people around.
-¿Eres muy lindo, chico. Estas caliente tambien?
He raised one hand in a shrug, his other around the bottle. Andrés had expected he wouldn’t understand. It would make things easier. He walked around behind the kid, bending down near his ear, his voice a husky, almost whisper.
-I said you are beautiful. Are your Henry too?
That’s when he saw the tattoo on the kid’s forearm. A skull with flowers. She did want this one. And he would enjoy her choice very much. He sat down in the chair next to the kid.
-I am Andrés, and you are?
The kid gave a shy smile.
-Are you here alone?
-I was down with some brothers for the week. But I reserved the wrong return flight so I’m alone for a couple days.
Andrés had guessed he was a frat boy. And his mistake made things easier. How long before he was missed? He reached over and began to gently trace the tattoo on the boy’s inner arm. Trevor didn’t resist. He leaned in to the boy.
-I knew when I saw this that you were to be mine. At least for a night.
He stretched out his finger and showed his own skull and flowers tattoo.
-What is it for, Trevor asked.
-I have another that is who it is for. Come with me and I will show you.
It was so easy. Because Santa Muerte wanted this Trevor. But so did Andrés. Soon the boy was in his house. They were kissing. Andrés was whispering Spanish into the kid’s ear. He knew just how to keep his voice and place his caresses to bring Trevor to that state of tingling relaxation. It was an American lover who introduced him to the technique. ASMR it was called. He used to drive Andrés mad with his voice and his touches.
-Show me what you promised
Trevor’s voice was husky now. Andrés pulled his t shirt over his head and turned around to show his back.
-She is Santa Muerte. She is my protector. Holy Death.
Trevor drew close, kissing the image of Santa Muerte. Andrés smiled and turned around to take the kids face in his hands.
-Now your turn.
He slid his hands under the kid’s t shirt and pulled it over his head. There were no other tattoos, just his smooth, perfect body.
-Have you ever been tied up by a guy?
He knew both that the kid had never had sex with a man before and that he would never admit it. He led him to the room with the table and lit candles around it. All the time weaving his Spanish words as the kid became more and more turned on. Luckily he knew how to keep Trevor from coming until he wanted him to.
Soon Trevor was out the rest of his clothes and on his back on the table, his hands tied over his head, a ball gag in his mouth.
As Andrés licked that beautiful chest and nipped at his nipples, as he ran his tongue down his arms, he told the kid what he was going to do. I am going to give you to Santa Muerte so that I can build her a shrine out of your bones. Your ribs will be a canopy above her head and your skull will lie at her feet. I will make the bones of your arms into flutes so we can play her songs at her festivals. I will make a blade from your pelvis to spill the blood of her sacrifices. He brought the kid closer and closer, the boy’s cock straining for release. I will take your heart for her as you give her your seed.
But of course Trevor didn’t understand Spanish. And his body was desperate to spill his seed.
Then Andrés began the dedication spell in a mixture of Spanish and ancient Nahuatl, keeping the kid on edge stroking his cock with his left hand while his right found the knife he had hidden. Andrés leaned close to Trevor’s ear as he brought out the knife and spoke in English.
-I will always keep roses in your empty eyes.
Thick ropes of come sprayed over the kid’s belly and there was horror in his eyes as he caught sight of the knife being lifted over his body.
Andrés slammed the knife into the heaving chest just under the rib cage. His left hand letting go of the spurting cock and leaned down on the right pec to try to keep Trevor from bucking and writhing as he sawed across the top of his belly.
-Shhh. Shhhh. I am trying to make this quick for you. Help me.
At last the hole was wide enough. He dropped the knife on the kid’s belly and thrust his hand into the gash through the pouring blood. The kid gasped and froze as Andrés’ hand broke though his diaphragm and closed on his heart. Andrés felt the muscle pounding in his hand as he gripped hard and pulled. It came loose and he took the knife in his left hand to cut it free. As he lifted it free he could see the kids eyes. There was still light in them and he let them look on his own beating heart as they went dark.
Andrés laid the heart on the kid’s now still chest as he lay on him stroking his own cock now, his hands covered in come and blood. He continued to kiss the cooling body, thanking the kid for his gift as his body shuddered and emptied his seed to mingle with his offering’s.
Andrés did as he promised. Cutting the flesh from Trevor’s bones and keeping it for the feast. He burned the innards except for the heart which lay on a platter in front of her statue. He boiled what was left of the flesh from the bones. And took them to the building he had put up behind his house. He fixed the rib cage on the wall over the altar where it made a kind of domed canopy over the still empty pedestal. He took the preserved tattoo of the skull with roses and hung it on the wall. He hollowed the arm bones into flutes and prepared the meat with spices and chiles to eat with tortillas. It took two days, but then when midnight came it was time for the ceremony. The other police on the force who worshipped Holy Death arrived to a shrine lit with candles. It was the narco gangs that were most devoted to her, but now the police too sought her protection. They carried her statue inside to the pedestal under the polished ribs. They played ancient songs on the bone flutes and burned the drying heart before her in a brazier. And at last, before they ate the tortillas with lots of tequila, Andrés brought Trevor’s polished skull and laid it at her feet. He kissed the empty sockets where Trevor had watched in horror as he was cut open, as his heart died. And in the empty sockets he place fragrant roses.
Of course it was Andrés who led the investigation of the missing American student. And of course no trace was ever found.