Chapter 2

Richard awake with a gasp, disturbed by the ringing of the intercome which seemed (according to him) a slaughtered turkey.

He had no desire to get up to see who the same disturbing at 7 am, it was his day off and he intended to pass it with thesheets rolled around, hiding his head under the pillow in an attempt to bypass the hassle "squawking".

After a continuous concert the doorbell won.

A young employee of the Italian Post Office, with a shining smile, handed him the mail and a large package on which was printed in blacks characters the word "fragile".

Forcing a polite thank you, he greeted the postman who leave off like a soldier.

He threw on the salon table the envelopes and contemplated the pack.

Sitting on the couch, teetering between being awake and falling back into the world of dreams, he stared at it stunned for 20 minutes before shaking himself, starting with a hot coffee.

Only after emptying the coffee machine he has read everything: the recipient was her mother. The lady was a nostalgic, it was probably the only person on earth who still write letters like old times, finding it more satisfying to beat the hard keys of a computer or a telephone.

Dear Richard.

Happy birthday!

I know this letter will come in advance, but I will also send you my most happy wishes. I almost can not believe it's been 35 years from your birth ... time goes by so fast. While I write I look at the photos of when you were little. So plump and tender as a doll, all the ladies at the hospital were of jealous of much beautiful you were! Bu tell me, when it will be using the charm inherited from me to get engaged? I would love to see you with a girl at your side, why not give me this joy? Look, I really care about it! Your father says instead to enjoy the freedom while you can ... that silly man.

I end this letter by sending you many affectionate kisses.

See you soon for your party. Mum and dad.

PS: I hope you like the gift I sent you.

He smiled, her mother was always the best.

Removed the packing paper, he was thrilled at the sight of the mirror with the ivory frame.

He was not an expert of antiquity but that thing it was really cool; signs carved precisely on the frame reminiscent of tribal tattoos and the white ivory was so shiny as the glass.

He had to admit that such object, used to reflect the vanity of human beings, it was appropriate for him that he was so careful to his physical appearance. He would never admit it in front of others, but he really care about it. This time his mother had guessed right.

His reflection was captured by the glass, framing every gesture and grimace.

He promised himself that as soon as possible would have called her mother to thank her ... if he survived before that afternoon.

About women, those bastards of his colleagues had managed to arrange to him a blind date, without his consent and permission.

He had gone on a rampage when they showed a picture of a girl from the South, telling him that they would spend together a "romantic" afternoon between the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. To say that he was furious it wasn’t enough to describe his mood, he become so red in the face to compete with a hot pepper and when the neighbors heard him yelling they were impressed, he, the nice guy that did not raise his voice even with the neighbor from the third floor which had always a bad habit of honking repeatedly to make clear the passage for the garage (just the opposite of the young woman of the first floor, with a more peppery temper). In the end, he had good reason to be angry; He did not like that they did certain things behind him.

To his misfortune had failed to cancel the meeting, the assholes were very careful not to leave a contact to explain the misunderstanding.

And so at half past four here he goes, pretending to be interested in a woman that he not even know.

For pete sake’s! He liked women, and very much!

But were is the romance fun when you must meet a woman with a "reservation"?

He was was neither a romantic like her mother or a Casanova in search of one-night adventure; simply he didn’t find that special girl that make him to say wow. That's all.

Situation that it didn’t happen with his "partner."

He should confess the evil plot behind the date and apologize for the stupid act of his "ex-friends" who thought they were intelligent, but he could not bring the courage to do it: she showed pretty, kind and with much hope of obtaining something good to that day.

So he stayed quiet, hoping to get an idea on how to come out from that embarrassing situation.

Richard was already visited the Uffizi a couple of times, as a good Florentine he had studied and admired almost all the artistic treasures that his Florence show off.

But that day the atmosphere in the building was disturbing, a matter of his suggestion caused by the theme of the current exhibition: the title announced with Gothic characters "10 Centuries On Hell - The dark ages of the world and life ".

Definitely it was not a cheerful displays, it were exposed the most disturbing and grotesque works that art of history had ever seen. The subjects dealt with death, disease, hell with its carnal punishment and so forth; stuff that not even Stephen King was able to represent in his novels. He watched a disturbing picture of Satan, he recalled a high school friend who had the terror for the devil and of which she could not even bear the single hint.

It hovered a quiet gloom atmosphere, visitors seemed to have even afraid to talk, as if they were really fall over in that dark world of madness and sin. Richard regretted the boring afternoons with her mother in Via Roma, forced to wander with her in the luxurious clothing shops with the last pieces of Michael Kors and Zara, and the expensive Swarosky’s diamond.

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The girl had a weakness for art history, she knew more of a school teacher.

Despite the goodwill, however, he just could not take an interest in the subject.

How many yawns had to hide so as not to offend her.

He noticed that certain areas were busier than others, due to the fact that some were exposed very famous paintings, or because some are so odd to intrigue the masses who didn’t make discounts of photographs.

The human tide dragged him in front of what, according to him, was the work that best crowning the theme of the exhibition: the plate marked it as "The Garden of Earthly Delights" by Hieronymus Bosch.

The triptych was so big and full of details that had no idea where to start looking.

As an ignorant observer, he only saw people gathered in orgies with animals first in a cheerful natural landscape and then in a grim world of flames and demons, among strange beings, indescribable castles architecture and everything else there was more crazy.

His escort was already stareted her art lesson but he lost her after the first words; he only undestand that it was a biblical representation of some sort. Others, fans like her or simple tourist guides, spoke with exaggerated emphasis by tourists and students who were probably confused as he was.

There was nothing of lovely in those designs!

The artist must have been made of some hallucinogenic substance for thinking that heaven (or wherever it was) could look like that or that nonsense things could happen; of the three piece perhaps only the third, the one of the destruction of the world; It really makes sense.

He might could been exaggerated, but only watch it sickened him.

Suddenly the lights went out, the museum fell into the darkness.

Among the visitors there were mixed reactions from fear and impassivity, the keepers scattered in the halls reassure everyone, only children indulged in hysterical cries of fear.

The brunette clung tightly to his arm, slightly amused by the unexpected accident; Richard on the other hand had forgotten her existence, his mind was working at full speed just to keep clinging to that shred of sanity that was slowly crumbling floor.

Light.

He had absolute need of light.

They were in a small room with only one exit, if at least they were in the hallway he would feel safer, there the abundant light thanks to large windows. He tried to go outside but the keepers had been told to stand still and wait until they fix the problem: it was a stupid idea! They were at least 40 in that room! The air was thick with sweat, someone continue to push him and the background church music, chosen for the exhibition; irritated him with each passing second. It was not just the music to annoy him; all those elements were the soundtrack to his fear.

And in the darkness the other people heard him, they complained ... scold him to stay calm.

But what calm! They sould only shut up! It was him who had the most need of help!

He had to get out of the clutches of darkness ever closer to his neck!

He could feel it! He could feel it! The danger was imminent!

Light! Run away! Death!

The torch of a caretaker interrupted the frenzied turmoil of depressing thoughts, he and many others came to this light like moths. The uniformed man led them out of there, apologizing in the name of the museum for the inconvenience and praying everyone to return in the future to enjoy the magnificence of the Uffizi.

To Richard was fine, everyone excused, even the relatives of these; but let him get out.

> asked his companion.

He had sweated so much as to leave large stains under the arms.

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But nothing would be "ok" from that day on.

The afternoon of his birthday, three days later, Richard was not well.

In that short time he had heard that his health was slowly tightening, but nothing serious enough to prevent him from performing his usual daily routine. The situation before that day had not appeared serious, attributing it to a simple passing flu he suffered from time to time but fighted back with aspirin, lighter food and long naps. Now, all of a sudden, he felt really bad.

Everything seemed to come to the surface after a few coughs, as if a evil thing climbed from inside his body. It was a huge disappointment to see his relatives and his friends, so dear to organize a surprise party in his house; worry as he turn pale in front of them. He was the only ugly element in his nice living room decorated with streamers and colorful balloons, they also set the table with all his favorite sweets and the chocolate cake reigned as queen at the center of everything, and lying on the couch someone had a billboard with his caricature drawed on.

He smiled and downplayed, that day was to bring joy, not anxiety, he tried to hide unsuccessfully tremors caused by chills.

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Richard wanted to calm the mother, but if he spoke too much new violent coughing left him out of breath andthe throat burned as if they had scratched him from inside.

All around his loved ones were increasingly apprehensive, only his father kept his nerve giving orders right and sending screaming to his wife not to panic, but behind his militaristic authority he was also apprehensive, he could felt how he is squeezing his shoulder.

Suddenly he was no longer able to distinguish the voices, hearing them distorted as a result of a slowdown filter. He made just in time to tell his father, then collapsed at his feet in convulsions.

In the building they all heard Ms. Vanessa screaming.

The ambulance burned the street and traffic lights to take him to the Careggi hospital, at the entrance to the emergency room nurses and doctors were already prepared.

There had been a wild ride through the corridors, then they were locked in a room and had begun to administer substances to make operate the lungs again and restore normal vital signs. When the heart stopped beating the defibrillator was already activated.

Only after four attempts the heartbeat starts again, a very weak pulse from the medical point of view, but for the team to hear that constantly beat was still a good win.

Many hours later, when the family was finally able to see him, they found him lying in bed in a state of semi-consciousness; He had attached on the chest of sensors that recorded the slowed down heartbeat, at the wrist a drip injected intravenously colloids solutions and on the face he was holding a mask for oxygen. The doctor who had taken care of was visiting him again; every hour he checked for any changes in his vital signs, and every time the results were almost discouraging.

> the doctor finally said to the two anxious parents.

> Vanessa asked hoarsely.

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It was not what they wanted to hear, let alone Richard.

They frightened to death, the doctor tried to calm them down, but the damage was done.

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Richard had many doubts: there really was an explanation for what was happening to him?

He could not conceive it as real, that is ... it was too much, too ugly to be; the reality could be so cruel?

From the small window of his room he saw the delicate orange of the setting sun, imagined it slowly disappear over the palaces of Florence, pointing to shops and stalls to close and to go to sleep; and not before dyed with that romantic magic light the cathedrals marble like those of Santa Maria del Fiore. He did it to not think of the suffering and the dramatic ending he had to face, those programs on the "mysterious disease" which often looked out of boredom now seemed to him warnings.

He heard the ringing bells of a church, for each chime he whispered a prayer.

Not to be saved, but to ask forgiveness for every sin he had unconsciously committed, hoping that God would help him..

Night came, the hospital was quiet.

Alone in his room, lying on a very uncomfortable mattress, Richard was not able to sleep, but for fear, not for insomnia.

Fatigue had just begun to win it when he heard a laugh.

He lost that little trace of sleep, he got goose bumps. He stared in wide-eyed the empty room shabbily furnished with only a steel table and a television set high on the wall, the cabinet with his clothes was left ajar.

The really heard a laughter, and it was disturbing.

Then again, much closer than before.

> dared to ask.

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He winced.

A disembodied voice had replied.

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The “entity" burst in a laugh, as if those words were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever said.

It could not help itself, had continuous attacks of laughter, just for what the man thought it was a stupid despicable joke. But if it was not... so Death could came with all the honors. Better to die right away, rather than being tortured by hallucinations.

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Suddenly, at the corner of the room where the subdued light of the street lamps did not arrive and left shade, something moved and took shape: a man with long hair, the skin pitch black and small silver eyes. He walked with a proud step, flashing a grin that rivaled that of the Cheshire Cat from Alice.

Richard held his mouth open without screaming, his hands trembling while vigorously grip sheets and hid under it as a child terrified by the imminent threat of the "Boogie Man", the electrocardiogram seemed gone crazy while recording the accelerated beat of his heart.

It made no sense: that individual appeared out of nowhere was identical to him.