Barcelona 1789. A foreigner in the city, a delicious stew in a hostel, a gloomy barber shop and a vile look with wicked intentions.


I have always lived with an obsession: to prove that the serial killer was him, the barber. I followed different clues for many years, all of them false and which led me to no conclusion.


I fell madly in love with him, I couldn’t envisage my life without being by his side, that’s why when I discovered his crimes, I was unable to report him, not only because I loved him, but also because I was paralyzed by the fear I had of him, I really lived in hell.


I have been in these four-square meters for five years already, back to the darkness that has accompanied me all my life. I don’t understand how I got into this situation. In each one of my victims I saw that they had evil eyes, I freed them from their own destiny. They should have thanked me for getting rid of them!

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