At the edges of the city there was a large mansion build on another mansion that laid his foundaments on another mansion. No one was sure of when those mansions were build or why they were build on top of each other; no one knew it’s exact structures or architeture, older parts mixed with newer parts, creating one of the most bizzare mixes of rooms. One moment you were in a medieval room, the next in a victorian hall and the next you were in some neo-classical garden.

Someone had though of trasforming it in a turism attraction or a museum but that project failed quickly when, upon entering the house, the inspectors felt nervous. It was something in that mansion, something that distorted your sense of time. That made you nervous, that made you dreadfull, that made all your feeling outburst at once. A feeling that made the inspectors who passed the doorsteep run toward the exit after only four minutes.

Some scientiest, deeply convinced by the ideals of scientism and rationality, tried to find the source of this... the studies were... unproductive. There was something strange in the architetture and the lights that deeply disoriented persons, including said scientiest who found themself wandering for hours at a time without having any idea of where they.

Once a millionare, wanting a strange and esotic mansion not far from home, tried to bought it. All that was needed to persuaed him of the contrary was letting him pass one night in that mansion. He said that when he touched the bed sleep immediately took him, that during that sleep strange and distorted dreams tormented him. And that upon waking up and exiting his room suddently found himself on the other side of the mansion. It took him seven hours to find an exit.

…

I always had the sensation that someone in the administration knew a great deal about the house. And those people didn’t want anyone to access the mansion, or, much worse, make the mansion a turist attraction.

When I was a child my father once tolded me that he trowed a ball into the mansion and found it, days latter, at the doorsteep of it. My friend once tolded me that strange shadows could be seen in that mansion and the priest tolded us, and I am not making this up, that that mansion was possed by the devil. Homever the truth it seemed like everyone had an anectode about it. That those anectode contradicted each other was of secondary importance.

What I wanted to do was neither ghost hunting nor exploring, I wanted to see the mansion in it’s entirety, I wanted to see the truth. I am an artist, I seek art and beauty whatever it may lie, and when I saw again that mansion I was like lighted from it's beauty.

Accessing it was not at all hard, just a few lockpicks and some broken windows.

As I advanced through the corridors I began to feel lost, but I didn't fought against it, I instead embrace it. I became excited to see what the next room holded for me. I wanted to see what strange decorations the next hall had. I was like a child.

And like a child I quickly found myself where I shouldn't have been. The colours of the rooms lost their intesity, the light became few and far between. The entity of the mansion became stranger and stranger.

At first I though that my vision was fooling me, that my sense were being tricked, then I saw with clear eyes. The pillars of the rooms were distorted, the clocks runned backwards, in the books not a single coherent phrase could be found. It was at this point that I started to agitate, I begun searching for an exit. But found none.

As I wondered deeper and deeper into the mansion things became more and more repulsive. The classical statues were gonne, replaced by statue of grotesque creatures from fairy tales. The paintings of nature replaced by vision of madness and hell. Yet there was one way to go, only one.

I saw a statue, it had the head of a goat that functioned as a mirror, you had the sensation that things was watching you, unlocking deeper and deeper levels.

The more I venture the more things were distorted and dark, until, opening one door, I saw the floor missing and only vague white shapes floating in the air. I tried to go back to no avail, that was the only road and as I went into that room I begun having visions. Visions of strange creatures that I never saw before.

And at the end of the room there was a being. It was a genius like figure floating in the air, it's cloack was white often break by the red of the lines. It had three eyes, all of which of a particular orange that reminded sunset and he had three arms for each side, each of which had a part of the tunic. The tunic was richly defined and decorated with amulets and jewels of all kinds.

It looked at me with total difference.

As I turned back to run I saw a fox, but it's eyes were replaced by two bright diamonds. I ignored it.

And as I run deeper and deeper I lost myself and the real became confused with my immagination. I saw a ritual, a man on a high and bent cross, many mens watching him. He was bleeding, his hair and beard was cutted, his faced scared. And from behind him there was a monster of unkown size that he couldn’t see.

The monster was hungry, three hydra like heads leaved the darkness and went near him, showing what was to become of him. And as he bleeded to dead he was gradualy immersed into the darkness and flesh of the monster.

When I opened up my eyes again I was on the city beach at sunset. As I stood up I noticed some strange red marks on, it was blood, my blood. When I went near the water to see my image I saw that I had the same scars of that men, the same hair and beard. And from behind me, like a fragment of a shadow I saw that monster heads out of the darkness. I jumped back in terror.

Still today, after years of theraphy and drugs sometimes in darkness I can feel it’s breath and from the darkness I can see it’s hydra like heads coming for my flesh. Waiting for the moment to bite.

The end