Lilith E-Book

Armando Lazzari

• Herausgeber: Tektime
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 381

Beschreibung

Lilith

Leseprobe

Armando Lazzari

Lilith

Translated by

FATIMA IMMACOLATA PRETTA

Title | Lilith

Author | Armando Lazzari

Cover by the author

Translated by Fatima Immacolata Pretta

© (2021) All rights reserved to the Author (Armando Lazzari)

No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior consent of the Author.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This novel is a work of pure fantasy. Any reference to personal names, places, events, e-mail addresses, websites, telephone numbers, historical facts, whether they really existed or still existing, is to be considered purely coincidental and involuntary.I apologize in advance to anyone reading the novel who may have felt insulted or mocked in any way by a sentence of mine, assuring you that it was not my intention.

For the rest, thank you and I wish everyone a good read.

Armando Lazzari

All literary rights in this work are exclusive property of the author.

Dedicated to:

My children Alexander and Nicole, always in my thoughts.

My wife Alessandra, my partner in life.

To my parents Marisa and Augusto, who gave me their life and illuminated the path.

To my sister Tatiana, may you like and enjoy yourself.

The inexplicable assumption, that the unreal is enclosed only in the distorted dreams of madmen,

it falters inexorably when the absurd, projecting itself into our reality, penetrates as deeply as it is

difficult to say that even a simple pointed stone can be such and not a dangerous and mysterious weapon that will tear our soul apart.

Armando Lazzari

Summary

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

Appendix

Acknowledgments

Prologue

The chase

One hundred and twenty.

The foot, arching, pushes even harder on the accelerator.

One hundred and thirty.

The man looks in the rear-view mirror and curses through clenched teeth:

"Damn, they don't let up!"

One hundred and forty: the road is too bumpy and the risk is too great, but he can't help himself, because he knows that if they just catch up with him....

No!

He shakes his head, chasing away the thought of what they would do to him... or not do!

Another glance at the mirror gives him another concern.

"Oh gosh! The guns!"

One hundred and sixty: that's the limit, he can't go any higher than that, not there!

He knows he needs a solution soon.

Bhang! Bhang!

"Shit, shit, shit..."

The bullets fly past him like a swarm of angry wasps.

He understands that at that rate, he won't stand a chance. He needs reinforcements and activates the voice recognition command device.

"Menu. Phone: Activate. Address book: Father. Call."

Tuu! Tuu! Tuu!

"Pick up, come on... pick up Father!"

Bhang! Bhang! Crash!

The response comes in conjunction with the rear window explosion.

"Where are you? We have a problem."

"Just one, Father? I've got several here, problems, sticking behind my ass and shooting! Where's the cavalry at?"

"Five of the boys are dead...three others are badly wounded: I can't send you anyone else, I'm sorry but you'll have to manage on your own. I know you'll make it, you've been in worse situations."

The first challenging curves appear on the road, forcing him to decelerate considerably.

His gaze slips behind him once again and....

Lord Almighty! A missile launcher! Have they a fucking missile launcher?

"No, Father, this is the worst! Pray for me... and if you can't, at least pray for my soul..."

In front, at the end of the curves, he glimpses a straight. Logic would dictate that they use it there. At a glance he has only a handful of seconds left.

"Don't say that, you don't have to give up!"

"Okay, Father, I swear I'll try, but in the meantime wave to the guys for me and if the line drops...don't worry, sometimes missiles do."

The straightaway comes right on time and along with it he glimpses the buggers adjusting their aim as well.

"Either I pull a rabbit out of my hat now, or I'm toast! Speaking of rabbits: how the heck did Bugs Bunny always save himself?"

Chapter 1

The Awakening

Immemorial, lying on that double bed, my legs tangled in the sheets, I stare up at the ceiling made slightly opaque by time and, motionless with my arms outstretched, I try to recapture the memories of the previous night, faded like an echo from my mind.

The fierce rays of light filtering through the curtains are stabs in the eyes, but every muscle categorically refuses to respond to my calls, leaving me there to endure the torment, alone with my questions...

Red.

Long black hair.

Music.

It's just brief flashes that light up quickly in awareness, but the rest is still dark.

Driin! Driin!

The phone: cursed infernal device with an obnoxious sound.

Driin! Driin!

Stop it! Stop it!

Driin! Driin!

The ringing enters me and continues undaunted to echo. My whole head throbs following the incessant rhythm of the trill...

Damn it! Why don't you explode?

Driin...

Now the noise is softer, more distant, almost imperceptible.

The phone has stopped, but then why do I hear it anyway?

It's not real, that's why!

Yes, it's just the memory ringing and calling me, taking me back to the time when it all began...

Home

"Hello? Who is this?" I mumble with a slurred mouth.

"Hello Davide, this is Roberto, am I disturbing you?"

"No, no...tell me." Lie. At nine o'clock on a Sunday morning I'd kill an altar boy too!

"I just couldn't wait to tell you something incredible!" Typical euphoria: yesterday I met...

"Yesterday I met..." ... the most beautiful woman in the world!

"The most beautiful woman in the world!" Obvious. As is Roberto, by the way.

"It's... it's that I can't wait anymore! This time she's the one, she's... she's gorgeous!" Ouch! He stutters as well.

"And how... augh...," I yawn, " ... how did you meet her?"

Obvious question. I look around. Coffee. I'm craving, needing a liter of coffee.

"Do you remember I had made friends with that group of people in a chat room?"

"Yes..."

I catch a pot with cold coffee in it, put it on the stove, turn on the gas and wait.

"Well, we decided to meet at a club they attend often."

"And in this group you met the suave maiden?"

The coffee is now hot and I reach for the pot.

"Ouch!" Hot as hell, the damn thing!

I use a potholder and pour it into a glass.

"Not really, the only two girls in the group are...let's just say nice!"

That means: a real stinker.

"Then I guess I'm lost. Sorry, but when does the fairy show up?"

A teaspoon of sugar, I turn and taste.

"Blah!" It really sucks! Nothing like freshly brewed coffee. Idiots, me and my laziness.

"Keep calm, I don't want you to lose the taste." No mercy for sleep, though?

I listen silently, straining to swallow my dose of caffeine posing as a coffee substitute.

"When we entered the place, I thought that if they frequented such a place, it meant they were completely out of their minds! The decor resembled a catacomb, with coffin-shaped tables, skulls everywhere, and violent Heavy Metal music overwhelming you, all topped off with a rich and varied fauna of tattooed lunatics with serial killer faces."

"Um... a great place for a hot date! How did you survive?"

"All appearance, trust me. The bigger and more pierced they are, the more tame they are. Anyway, aside from the initial discomfort, after a couple of beers everything seemed a little more normal to me."

Thankfully, he called. Now I was hungry, too.

"The evening was going on quietly, nothing exciting, but it was going on. Then suddenly I noticed a girl sitting alone at a small table not far away. She was staring at me insistently. Beautiful, trust me! The great thing was that, with mischievous glances, she was doing nothing but inviting me to go to her. My heart rate tripled, I could feel the adrenaline whipping every inch of my body and I didn't give a damn what the others at the table were saying, I just thought I had to go to her and kiss her on the lips. She had fully bewitched me!"

I don't think it should be that hard to bewitch a drunk with the hormones of a revved up Lamborghini.

"I have no doubt to think so! So what did you do?"

Where had I put the cookies? Ah, there they are!

"I gathered my courage and did the first thing that popped into my head: I got up under the guise of going to the bathroom. I walked by her table and then flashed her my best smile!"

"Did she reciprocate?"

Cookies without salt? How the heck did I get that wrong?

"More than that! I've never seen a better smile! On the way to the bathroom I was practically flying! But now hold on tight here comes the best part of the story. When I came out of the bathroom, she was standing, leaning against a pillar, with her arms crossed waiting for me. You can imagine the look on my face when I saw her."

"Dumbstruck. Undoubtedly."

"Well, sort of, yes. I'm sure you would have been dumbfounded, too, in my place. She had on a decidedly short and very, very tight dress that highlighted her every curve perfectly in keeping with the universe. Trust me when I tell you that more generous than that, God could not have been!"

"Interesting...then what happened?"

"Then the first gaffe. She stares at me and says: are you going to seduce me with your hidden talents? I there and then don't understand and look at her curious about the strange question. She points at my pants and I realize that I had forgotten to unbutton my fly! Immediately I dissolve into a thousand excuses, while I try in every way to close the zipper, which was also jammed. At that point she stops me and says: don't worry, you did it.

How? What?

"Did you get it? What do you mean you got it? Don't tell me that..." He's mocking me! No doubt about it!

"It means she threw herself at me and while we were kissing she pushed me into the bathroom. Then she locked the door and...my God, I still can't believe it!"

Neither can I and I am a man provided with a lot of imagination....

For the first time since middle school he woke me up for a serious reason.

"But now you have to tell me everything in detail!"

You really managed to pique my curiosity.

"Actually, I'm a little bit confused, it's like I have a hole..." You've had that since birth.

"What the hell are you talking about? It's not like I asked you what cocktail you had, you can't not remember the most mind-boggling thing that's happened to you in the last ten years!" Maybe even twenty.

"It's weird, isn't it? And yes I was a little tipsy, but not totally drunk! I know something happened, but don't ask me what. I only remember that when I came out of the bathroom I was like in a trance and I staggered back to the table with the others, who in the meantime had given me up for lost." He raved.

"What happened to that woman? Did you ever see her again after that?"

"Yes, when we left, before leaving the club, she was standing by the door and smiling she came towards me. I was the last in line and kept contemplating her. She mischievously put her mouth to my ear and whispered: see you soon! Then she disappeared into the crowd."

"And when do you plan to go looking for her?" Assuming, in the best case scenario, you don't see her coming out of the bathroom with someone else.

"Tonight itself! I want to take her to my apartment this time though, the bed is certainly more comfortable!" He tries to sketch a half laugh of understanding. He fails badly.

"Roberto... I know you have already thought about it, but I recommend you: you don't know her well, try to be careful. Remember to take the right precautions..."

After all, he's a nice guy, a bit of a pain in the ass and quite petulant, but still a nice guy.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing and I've got a new twenty-four box. I have to say goodbye now, I have to get ready, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow at the office. Bye, Davide."

Twenty-four: call it just recovery.

"Sure! Bye and good luck."

With the hope that he would remember something later.

In bed

Now the sunlight is starting to fade. It's clouding over, a relief for my eyes. I loosen the grip with which I held them firmly closed. I feel a slight ache in my temples from exerting myself too long.

I stop struggling against the bed that keeps me encased, because I'm part of it now.

I try to open my eyes. Nothing doing, the eyelids are glued.

It's not possible! I can't stay here motionless waiting for someone to find me!

More minutes pass. Now the annoyance becomes anger.

I rebel, concentrating all myself on that simple movement that I will have done a million times. Easy, isn't it?

One, two and... three! Nothing.

Easy my ass!

But what's happening to me? What's happened to me? Is it possible that I don't remember anything from last night?

I smell something...where is this scent coming from?

Office

"Do you like it? My sister gave it to me for my birthday. Good, right?" Yes, I would recommend it to any prostitute.

"Do you decided to intoxicate the whole office? You're already wearing those armpit miniskirts, then you're also bathing in perfume, don't complain if someone gives you a good pat on the butt!"

Direct approach. Could this be the time she smiles and lets me know she wouldn't mind?

"Except for the fact that I put in very little...and besides, it's not like they're all maniacs like you, dear!"

Sour and moody like most secretaries. But do they take any special courses?

Attempting a smile, I flip through the mail she gently tossed to me on the counter.

"By the way, Francesca, has Roberto arrived yet?"

"Who, the klutz? No, he still hasn't shown up this morning. At the very least he's still trying to get his brain in gear, assuming he can find it."

It's more likely that he's walked by without her noticing him, since her attention is entirely focused on the nail art she carefully applies to her nails.

"Alright, thanks, I'm off to the office, but...don't tell me you have a white hair?"

I hold back my laughter and point to an unspecified spot in her thick hair.

"Where? No way!" Hit and miss.

Vanity: the woman's weak spot.

"And yes... I'm sorry, but it's right there. Must be the stress of overwork?"

I leave her to her hysterical search for the non-existent evil one, while she torches her hair, plucking at it like a monkey.

It's ten thirty, I huff and puff and throw my pen on the coffee table. Coffee break. But what happened to Roberto? Do you want to see that last night he came back from the nymphomaniac and she exhausted him so much that he hasn't recovered yet? I kick the vending machine that has swiped my coin twice. It works, the coffee comes out and meanwhile I try to call Roberto.

First ring: free.

Third ring: sooner or later he will answer.

On the fifth ring, the answering machine comes on. Where have you been?

"Beep!”

"Hi Roberto, it's Davide. Where have you been? If you can connect your brain, call me back. I'm at the office working and, many times you don't remember, that's the place you're supposed to be. Bye and call me!"

He has been sick twice already this month. If he has flu or related again and disappears another week leaving me with his paperwork, I swear I'll bring it straight to his door this time.

Seventeen forty, the end of the working day and Roberto still hasn't shown up. Maybe it would be better if I stopped by his place before going home, maybe he needs something.

Oh no, here we go again! Stuck in traffic. Freaking junction! It would take two of them, one on top of the other, not to widen it.

An hour and a half! It took me a damned hour and a half to get to his front door. On the intercom there is a sign: out of order. Luckily the front door is open. I go to the elevator. Another sign: out of order. What is this, a conspiracy? Doesn't anything work in this ruin of a building?

Sixth floor: hurriedly I arrive in front of the door and without any formalities I attach my finger to the bell.

Come on, answer! Don't tell me you made me come all the way here for nothing, or I'll kill you!

I hear some noises, I stop ringing.

I look at the door: still noises in the background.

"Roberto! It's me: Davide. Come on, open up!"

I knock so hard that even a deaf ninety year old could hear me.

Latch sounds. Hallelujah!

When he finally decides to open, I destroy the smile I'd been wearing and replace it with a chilled expression. "What the hell happened to you?"

He looks like he's aged thirty years. His face is gaunt and waxy.

"Ah, it's you. Come...come in."

Even his voice is altered: hoarse and phlegmy. I follow his footsteps, traipsing down the hall.

"My God, how badly you're hurt!"

He doesn't answer, coughs, and lets his weight drop onto the couch. I sit in the chair across from him and look at him worriedly.

"Did you call the doctor? You look like hell!"

And I'm a big optimist.

"No, I haven't had time yet..."

"What? I'm sorry, but then what have you been doing all day?"

Turning his head, he looks at an undefined point outside the window.

"I've been sleeping and maybe... dreaming."

"No, wait, I left you yesterday morning spewing energy everywhere with the story of that and then you disappear. When I find you again you sound like my grandfather and you're rambling like crazy! Let me hear if you have a fever."

I quickly bring my hand up to his forehead, he tries to fight back scared, but can't. His hands are freezing cold and his forehead is as hot as an iron.

"You're hot! But did you fall into the oven? That's it, I'm calling the doctor!"

"No! I can't go to the hospital! She promised me that tonight..."

Complaining, he struggles. I ignore him and pick up the phone. I dial the number.

"Oh yeah? Then I guess that means we'll put a nice sign on the door to match everyone else...hello, is this the doctor's office?"

Within ten minutes the ambulance arrives. To calm him down, the doctors are forced to administer a sedative and load him with the stretcher into the ambulance car.

Heralded by the roar of the engine, a motorcycle pulls up alongside. On it, straddling it, is a guy dressed in black leather who is watching us carefully. He realizes I've noticed him. He takes off his helmet and when he shows off a long black hair, I notice amazed that it is not a he but a she. Damn, she's very beautiful too! Could she be Roberto's mysterious lover? But if it's her, why doesn't she run worriedly to the ambulance?

She gives me an enquiring look, then quickly fastens her helmet, starts the engine and with a deafening noise disappears into the horizon.

The ambulance sirens bring me back to reality. I rush to my car and follow her to the hospital.

The bench in the waiting room is uncomfortable and cold: whatever, I don't have to sleep on it.

A doctor approaches, quickly peeks at a clipboard and calls me by name.

"Yes, it's me! How is Roberto Capua?"

"Well, undoubtedly better, but how did he get like this? When I saw his papers I didn't want to believe his date of birth."

"I assure you, doctor, that until a few days ago he was in excellent shape. I was amazed, too, when I found him in that state. But what exactly is wrong with him?"

He is puzzled. Perhaps more than I am.

"It is difficult to say. We noted considerable blood loss, as if he had suffered a severe arterial bleed, but we found no evidence to confirm it: general absence of wounds on the body, lack of bloodstains on the clothing. Also, from what you stated at intake, you didn't notice any bloodshed in the environment where he was found."

"I confirm that, the house was clean."

Secular dust excluded.

"In any case, since there is no runoff in progress, the leak is a secondary problem that doesn't involve big consequences, at least on a normal subject. The fact that struck me is the physical deterioration of your friend: in a few words, he seems to have suddenly aged a few decades. To your knowledge, has he ever suffered from any particular pathology that would justify this state?"

"No, at least he has never told me about it, but I repeat that he has always been in excellent shape." So far.

"Do you have any relatives I could talk to?"

All I can think of is Sara...

"I know he has a sister who lives just outside of Rome. I had the intention to call her, but without a response from you I didn't want to alarm her for nothing... at this point, though, I think I'll contact her soon. In the meantime, could I see him?"

"It is better you come back tomorrow, he needs to rest and he's under control, take it easy."

Before leaving, I leave my and Sara's information.

On leaving the hospital I decided to anticipate them, I called her to explain the situation trying not to alarm her too much.

It was useless, she was very worried. She tells me that she would have rushed there. It's nice to know that there's still someone who can feel sorry for you....

On my way home I can't help but think about what happened to Roberto and I'm partly ashamed of what I thought about him on Sunday. I'm looking for a rational explanation: maybe he's suffering from one of those rare hereditary diseases, but I don't know why my thoughts go to that strange girl.

Could she have given him some special drug?

C’mon! Do you want to see that now she belongs to a team of crazy scientists doing genetic experiments on poor unfortunates?

It's ok, let's joke about it, the fact is that I don't know any other way to exorcise my fears.

Poor guy, what a shame!

Isn't that... yes, it's the black bike. It's unmistakable! Do you want to see if the woman in the story was really her? But I can't see her in the admissions department, and I don't even think they allowed her into her room. Maybe I'm wrong.

Chapter 2

The Legend

In Bed

It feels like a movie. It's as if these memories don't belong to me and I'm a spectator who paid for a ticket to attend the premiere in a movie theatre.

These images surface and go away without my apparent will, at least they seem to have a consecutive logic. Now, however, I am more certain than ever that in order to solve this mystery I must get to the bottom of the story.

More time has passed and nothing has changed... well, not really nothing: the night has fallen; maybe if I could fall asleep for a few hours, when I woke up everything would be normal again.

Yes, but why isn't everything normal? That Roberto is the first victim of a tremendous deadly virus and I am the second and tragic episode? I would say that American apocalyptic films should be halved at the cinema.

Just a moment! Here's something new: my neck is no longer motionless, now I can move my head! And that's progress.

Who knows, maybe if I tried harder, I'd be able to move the rest of my body and maybe even stand up....

Inhuman effort.

What the hell!

I look around. Despite the darkness I can make out a few objects in the room.

Doubtful: has the window always been open?

The white crenelated curtain, urged on by the wind, flutters free. It almost seems to be animated by a will of its own, with a tendency to take on distinct shapes with every puff it receives.

First it was a large bird, perhaps an eagle.

Now the meaning of the figure is lost and reinvented: it is a woman with long, loose hair.

It lasts a short time. A gust arrives and disrupts everything. The curtain becomes tangled as if handled by a skilful conjurer who cleverly makes it take the shape of...

Home

"Meow..."

"A cat?"

What the hell is a cat doing in front of my front door?

"Meow." It rubs ruffling at my pants. He looks hungry.

He has a small golden collar that stands out against the clear grey fur. I pet him smoothly and he lets me pick him up.

"Where did you run off to? Your owner is sure to be worried."

He wears a really nice collar. He's too clean and sociable to be for a stray.

"Meow." He appreciates my attention and purrs at me.

A tag pops out of his collar that I hadn't noticed before. There is opaque writing on it. I try to read it.

"Lil... what's next? It doesn't read well, maybe your name is Lilli? Are you a sissy then? Let's see if I can find you master."

I walk out the door and go to the intercom. I start ringing one by one to all the tenants. Except for three who don't seem to be home, they all answer me that they are not the owners.

"Now what am I going to do with you? I don't feel like putting you out on the street. I'll tell you what: I'll host you and I'll commit myself to finding your owner, but only for a few days at the most, but then..." With my hands I make a gesture more than eloquent even for the understanding of a feline.

"Meow." He seems to agree. Pact sealed.

I open the door with the keys and as soon as the door opens, he frees himself from my grasp with an agile move and quickly enters the house.

"Yes, good, go ahead and make yourself at home, don't worry."

Elegantly he points straight at the sofa as if he already knew the environment and with a decisive leap he takes possession of it. Sitting in a composed manner, she moves her paw. It seems absurd, but I could swear that she is pointing to the kitchen. If she's hungry, then that means there are two of us.

"Fine: I'll cook tonight, but we're agreed that you'll do the dishes afterwards!"

Of course I must have gone crazy if I'm talking to a cat and making a deal with it. What female, human or not, in history has ever respected a pact?

The cat seems to have fallen asleep, but I don't really want to sleep and the TV doesn't show any program worthy of attention. I get up listlessly from the couch, letting the bluish light of the television give some colour to the room, and I look out the window. The thought of Roberto's fate is now a permanent concern, but I put it aside for a moment to admire the beautiful moon that illuminates the almost deserted street this evening. It's that almost that upsets me.

That bike again! I'm not wrong and it can't be just a coincidence. But where is the owner? I try to read the license plate: too far away. Okay, you won't get away from me this time.

I grab a piece of paper and a pen from the shelf, put on a jacket and hurry out to check for myself.

Gone. Damn it, it's gone! Yet I was a missile and didn't give her time to disappear. Unless I dreamed her, but I don't think I've gone that stupid.

I returned to the apartment and noticed that the front door was open. But didn't I close it? My eye falls on the couch: where did the cat go? I look for him, but he seems to have disappeared too.

What is this, the evening dedicated to Houdini?

Office

Is it possible that in this period my office is always flooded with papers? Okay, let's take a coffee break and call Roberto's sister.

"Hi, it's me: Davide. Any news of your brother?"

"Hi. The doctors say he's stable. I managed to see him, albeit only for a few minutes, but what happened? Blessed God, I almost didn't recognize him!" Her voice trembles.

"To tell you the truth, I was hoping you would know more, but listen to me: now you don't have to worry, he's being kept under control and you'll see that when he recovers everything will be back to normal and he'll explain everything to us."

"I don't know... I'm scared, I've never seen him like this!"

Can I blame her?

"Because you've never been there during one of our beer nights!" Bluff, maybe she believes it.

"Beer? But what beer! They didn't find a drop of alcohol in his blood, let alone traces of drugs!"

He didn't believe it. Let's try to change tactics.

"Did they mention the congenital disease hypothesis to you?"

"Yes! And I'm super sure it can't be, we've always been healthy in our family. Then there's the matter of all that missing blood, and you want to know another weird one? Apparently the only place it could be leaking from is a bruise on her neck, and there isn't even a tiny hole to give it any logic!"

"Ah!" Blown away. I try to baste something else.

"You'll see... but yes, you'll see that before long the doctors will figure out what's wrong with her and everything will seem simple. Don't make things more complicated than they are, after all, neither you nor I have a medical degree. Let those who are more competent than us draw the right conclusions."

"I'm trying, Davide, I'm really trying, but right now it's not easy to be optimistic. But you really have no idea what he might have been doing these days, or what company he was keeping? Maybe if we go back a few days before it happened, we could figure it out more."

"I know something about a girl he was seeing..."

Best to avoid specifics.

"...but I haven't had a chance to go into it properly, I don't even know her name, or where she lives."

"I understand... but if anything comes to mind, please tell me right away!"

"Count on it, don't worry."

Could I tell her that the girl is probably a nymphomaniac maniac picked up in the bathroom of a pub frequented mostly by exalted lunatics?

Come to think of it, though, Sara might not have it completely wrong. What if you investigated this phantom lady x a little more? With any luck it might be relatable to the woman on the bike.

It would take some sort of starting point that would reconnect the facts...um...maybe friends on the net. Yeah, if I could track them down, they could point me to the club he was at that night and maybe with a little luck I could meet her. From what I understand, the chick is guaranteed not to go unnoticed anyway.

What was the name of the site where she was chatting? Damn my memory!

I have to remember...

I have to remember...

Hospital

"Hi Sara. Do you think they'll let me in to visit today?"

She looks at me as if trying to get rid of a thought that had kidnapped her and taken her elsewhere. Probably, if I hadn't spoken to her, she wouldn't have noticed me. I get up from the bench and, occupying her entire field of vision, I help her to compose my figure. It works.

"Oh, David! Excuse me, have you been here long?"

"No, just now..." About three quarters of an hour.

"Roberto? How is he today?" I investigate, but his face doesn't hint at anything good.

"He's recovering, except for the amnesia." She is incredulous.

"Amnesia?"

Holy shit, is this getting worse instead of better?

"Yes, the doctors say it's due to severe psychological trauma and that it's probably temporary. Davide, it honestly doesn't sound like amnesia to me. When I tried to talk to him he would stare at me with his eyes wide open as if he didn't understand." This might be within the range of normal.

"Sorry, but at this point I'd like to check it out for myself. I don't know what my chances are of being recognized, but if it's okay with you, I'd like to try anyway."

"That's fine, but let's try not to tire him out too much."

I walk through the door of the room and contemplate in amazement the figure of the man who was once a great friend of mine. I struggle to frame him. Above the bed, with his back against the pillows, his gaze is immersed in the emptiness of the beige wall. His hair is completely white. Deep wrinkles run down the sides of his mouth and forehead. My God, he must have lost twenty pounds. A grimace of pain appears on his sister's face, I ignore it and gently make my way to the bedside.

"Hi Roberto, how are you, do you recognize me? I'm Davide."

I slowly enunciate the words.

I manage to shake him out of his state. He turns his head, looks at me for a second and then, as if to say and who cares, goes back to silently staring at the wall that is probably more interesting than my words. I throw a half smile at Sara trying to reassure her. I have to find something that really gets her attention, even if it means destroying the damn wall with a spade!

"You need to hurry up and get yourself together, otherwise the gorgeous girl you met will pick someone else to have fun with. What did you say her name was? Giulia?"

It would be a miracle if I got her name right immediately. In fact, she doesn't respond. I turn the wheel and try again.

"... no, no. Now I seem to remember: Francesca?"

The most common female names throughout the peninsula. Nothing, this doesn't work either. It is useless to continue on this path. I try to touch his arm to shake him, but with a cold look he makes me understand that it is not even the case to touch it. I am more than a little embarrassed. I don't know what to do and I understand his sister's state of anxiety. Heck, now I'm seriously worried too.

"Sniff! Sniff!" What is she doing, sniffing me?

My God, this has reached the end of the line.

"You! You've met her!"

Okay, I managed to get him talking, or rambling....

"Met who? Maybe, Roberto, you're referring to that girl you were telling me about?"

"You've been with her! You, you touched her, you touched her, you touched her..." He continues obsessively, in a frenzy. What is he saying? I have to calm him down.

"No, trust me, I swear...I've never seen her."

Oh my God! He's shaking. Sara looks at me hallucinating. If she keeps this up, ten to one she'll burst into tears....

"Enough David...now leave the room..., please!" That's it, exactly: a flood of tears.

My heart clenches at that plea.

"Yes, of course. I'll be right out."

I get out of bed and look resignedly at my friend.

"Get well soon..."

A barely whispered phrase, who knows if he heard me.

With my hand I make a sign to Sara.

"I'll wait for you outside, I need to talk to you." Nodding, she gently strokes her brother to calm him down.

Minutes pass and I try to reorganize my few confused ideas.

Sara walks out of the room and wipes her eyes, now contoured by a black halo of loose makeup. I get up and walk towards her. She looks soothed again.

"I'm sorry if I was a little abrupt earlier, it's just..."

"Don't worry, it's okay."

In her shoes, I might have even been less diplomatic.

"I wanted to ask you something." I take time to phrase the request in a way that doesn't give her false hope.

"Here, I was wondering if you could give me the keys to his apartment...you know, I have some ideas to try to figure out what happened." I nip her question in the bud.

"It's nothing concrete, I'd just like to take a look on her computer, maybe I'll find something interesting."

Her facial muscles relax. I convince her.

"Yes, that's fine. But please, whatever you find out, you'll have to let me know right away." Depends.

"Of course, of course!" Categorical as a maybe.

Six more floors to walk: freaking elevator!

I pick up the set of keys Sara gave me. I weigh it: it's going to be a pound! With all these key chains attached, it looks more like a defensive weapon.

Sixth attempt: I finally guessed the right key. I open the door and enter. Pitch darkness.

I turn on the light and...god what a mess! The last time I went in, I hadn't noticed that Roberto was so messy. Wait a minute, the laundry is fine, but the shards on the floor of the lamp really seem excessive. After all, the way he looked, he may have been so sick he couldn't make it to clean up. I can smell a nauseating odour, maybe it would be better to open the windows and let it air out.

I have to remember to tell Sara to come and clean up: this house is really pitiful!

Here's the computer, I turn it on. Luckily no password, blessed ingenuity.

Let's see if there's something interesting in the documents folder.

Nothing. Okay, go with Internet Explorer, I doubt he has Firefox or Chrome installed or familiar with it anyway.

Let's check the history: anthology of witchcraft, necromancy, demonology... but what the heck kind of sites does he visit? He's completely nuts. I wonder if I can find anything useful.

Got it! Here's what I've been looking for, at least I hope so: Chat the spirits.

With a little luck I might find someone and chat with them.

It's as deserted as a cemetery, just to stay on topic. I'd say wait until later, maybe someone will connect. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to do a thorough scan of your computer's hard drive. I realize it's like violating a person's privacy, but it's necessary if I want to find a minimum of information.

The grinder takes its time. I focus my attention on a folder with a strange name: Black Moon, could it be a collection of daring photos? Let's check the contents.

It contains dozens of written documents, it looks like material downloaded from those strange sites.

Beep! Each image suddenly disappears from the monitor.

"Beep? What do you mean, beep? The power had to go out right now?"

All right, don't panic. I take advantage of the pause and take a tour of the house. The bedroom. Let's see if there are any diaries with phone numbers in the bedside table.

It's full of strange knick-knacks: a white candle and a black one: both used, an embroidered ribbon, bells, a mirror and this strange dust, what is it? Sniff! It smells like incense.

But yes! That's what the smell was when I walked in: incense!

I wish someone would explain to me if it's normal to have such items in the nightstand! Thinking back, though, I seem to remember something I read a while back about it... something that had to do with these materials for some pagan ritual.

Let's venture a hypothesis: the nutcase, that is Roberto, out of the blue and for an arcane and unknown reason, begins to be interested in esotericism, he knows some crazy people in a chat room that induce him to perform strange rituals and take mysterious hallucinogenic substances that reduce him to a rag.

This might be the best theory to unravel the whole thing, or almost. The strange note lies in the fact that doctors did not find any particular substances in his blood. Could it be that he used drugs so sophisticated that they couldn't be detected so easily, because they were expelled through bleeding? It would take a chemist, and I, unfortunately, am a simple insurance man.

I'm starting to get hungry, a nice pizza would be nice while waiting for midnight, if the power comes back on.

Beep! The computer turns back on along with the lights in the room.

Fantastic! Apparently in this house you just have to want things.

Six more goddamn floors on foot! If I had thought of it sooner, I would have fasted. At least I digested the pizza.

I catapult myself onto the couch. The day has been destructive and the good thing is that it's not over yet.

Let's get back on the internet. Let's see what exactly this black moon thing is.

It seems that this is another nickname used for the figure of Lilith and that this was even the first woman of Adam created by God, for him and like him, from the mud.

Legend says that she escaped from Adam because, judging herself equal with him, she did not want to submit, especially during sexual relations... ah!

Lilith, moreover, pronounced angrily the name of God, took flight and left the garden of Paradise taking refuge on the shores of the Red Sea. Leaving the Paradise on her own initiative, before the fall of man and not touching the Tree of Knowledge, she was not condemned to mortality. Fled into the desert and met the Djinns, with whom she mated. It was generated so a line of demons called Lilim. This rebellion did not go unnoticed by God who sent three angels, Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof, to convince Lilith to return with Adam. A terrible punishment was the answer to her categorical refusal: almost all her children were exterminated. Since then, her hatred towards men was nourished over the centuries, as well as the mortal danger for all those who wanted to hinder her revenge.

A story with a happy ending, no doubt about it. While it's undoubtedly a tale of terror, a warning to mind your own business is there, and I'm a guy who generally respects such things.

Below are also the rituals for conjuring it, with a marked note that absolutely discourages men from performing them. Wait, you want to bet that this list contains the same items I found in the drawer?

I'll check: I won a goldfish.

Now, more than ever, I'm sure that Roberto has already recoiled before he got sick.

Let's enter the famous chat room and see if I can catch some more goldfish in the net...

He wants a nickname, a nickname: Apollo sounds good, he's the God of the sun, he's what we need to keep our distance.

There are five people in the chat room, let's hope to catch the right ones. I'll enter.

<Apollo> Hello folks!

<Flap> Welcome Apollo.

<Carmilla> A new snack!

<Horus> Good Carmilla, this is a colleague.

<Zombi> Are you new around here, Apollo?

<Apollo> Minted a few million years ago.

<Kali> A humorist! But were you warned that this is a devilish chat?

<Apollo> A friend recommended it to me.

<Zombi> What did you do to him that was so terrifying?

<Horus> Guys, a little hospitality!

<Carmilla> Really, you want me to run out of dinner?

<Apollo> Careful, Carmilla, you might get burned....

<Flap> Who's your friend? We all know each other here.

<Kali> We're a small community of burnouts.

<Apollo> I don't remember what nick you use, but his name is Roberto and he's a tall, thin guy with curly hair.

<Flap> Lilim! No way, you're friends with the nutcase?

Got it! It can only be him!

<Carmilla> Hey! Easy with the insults! Lilim is my friend!

<Here we go again! Now Carmilla will ask to put in a good word....

<Kali> To tell you the truth, he's been missing for a while.

<Zombi> Yes, Angel, Phobia and Genie are also missing.

<Carmilla> Honey was supposed to call me on Sunday after Saturday's outing.

Yes! Got one of the mystery group.

<Horus> Did you fail the charm test? :-)

<Carmilla> Don't be alarmed, I have my ways of winning a man over!

Alright, but let's not get off topic: I want the name of the club.

<Apollo> He told me about the evening. He told me he had a great time.

<Flap> Yes, but behind Carmilla's back :-)

<Zombi> For me he is continuing to have fun, but with the beautiful Angel!

<Kali> I doubt Lilim is the ideal type of Angel....

Angel? And the girl would be...

<Apollo> I don't know who this Angel is, but Roberto... Lilim, he's not a bad guy.

<Flap> Dude, get served, she's too high of a target for many, and Lilim, with all due respect, at best can only polish his Harley!

The Harley Davidson! The same bike I saw that woman on. Coincidence?

<Zombi> Put it any way you want, but there was a lot of chemistry between the two of them lately....

<Carmilla> Theirs was just a friendship over the same fixation!

I'm not aware of Roberto having any special interest.

<Horus> Guys let's stop with the gossip! Our guest might think it's Novella 20001 chat!

<Carmilla> I agree with Horus! Apollo, you who heard it, do you know what happened to him?

He's in the hospital reduced to a vegetative state.

<Apollo> He caught a bad flu, he told me to say hello.

<Kali> He's really sick if he doesn't turn on his computer.

His pc is on, he is the one who is off.

<Apollo> He mentioned the club you went to on Saturday. What is it called?

<Carmilla> The Spider's Web.