In a small town in southern Italy, near one of the famous lakes, lived a man. He was a writer. He wrote short stories for a newspaper and had written 2-3 novels as well. This man was called Fernandez Castino. He was 68 years old. His wife had died of cancer 2 years ago.
Fernandez lived alone in a small house. He earned less than most. He was an innocent man. He donated some money to the poor every year, except when it was not possible. He gave food to stray cats.
Every morning, he would have his breakfast and read books for a long time, then only would he start writing.
The home, in which Fernandez stayed in was rumoured to be haunted. People said that many inhabitants of that house had died without any medical reason, in other words they had died because of unknown reasons which people said were supernatural.
One night, Fernandez was drafting his novel as usual, when he felt like someone was watching him. He got up, looked in front of himself, turned behind himself, “Who’s there?” There was no reply…
The night around him grew darker and his heart began to beat faster… he sat down on his chair and looked around, his eyes scanning the room for some sign of life.
He didn’t find anything. “It can be anything… a stray cat or a rat…” he muttered under his breath.
He continued writing his novel, while the birds chirped and every move being watched by him...
The next morning, he woke up as usual and had his breakfast. He was reading his books… when he heard a laugh coming from his kitchen. “Who's there?” He asked loudly and firmly to the kitchen, as he took a knife out of the drawer.
When he did not find anything again, he went back to his bedroom and continued reading.
An hour later, Fernandez had fallen asleep, but he woke with a start. He saw a shadow. The room had become eerily cold… then he saw a woman passing his bedroom. He got up, and shouted, “Hey! Who are you?” She did not answer. She wore a black dress that trailed the floor and she just continued walking…
When he got up and went to the hallway to find her, she was gone… Fernandez was worried. He asked his security guard whether anyone had come into his house, and the guard had shaken his head, confused.
Fernandez did not feel very… safe in his home that night.
He lit a candle and he continued writing his novel, checking the room about every five minutes. He felt cold, even though he put his hands over the candle, which he thought was unusual.
Once when he was checking, he saw a horrible shadow over his shoulder… a shadow of a woman… but also half monster…
He got up and there was only the shadow. It moved across the room… every single time the shadow moved, the more cold it would become and more birds would sing…
Fernandez got up and fled. He ran for his life, not knowing where he was going… but the problem is that he seemed to see this… shadow everywhere…
Fernandez eventually could not run anymore… he was cornered… the shadow had multiplied and had cornered him in a small forest near his house…
“What… what do you want from me?” He said, trembling in fear and shivering, as the cold in his body became worse…
The shadow just came nearer and nearer to him… the next second, he had fallen to the ground and had unimaginable pain in his chest… “No one should live in this house…” he heard a raspy voice say… and those were the last words he heard…
