The journey into the shadow realm was as short as it was turbulent.

The man rolled for a long time before stopping and banging his head. He made the mistake of immediately getting to his feet as he hesitated, took a few steps before losing his balance again and falling into the water.

The muddy taste and the cold helped him put the wheels back into place. He immediately recognized the Fortezza da Basso and its small garden outside the walls of the pentagonal palace; it was the main meeting point for those who, during the day; wanted to walk in the open while for others, at night; as a place of entertainment for alcoholic evenings. It was not a very large garden but it was still a beautiful place with an artificial lake where the ducks swam quietly and gave birth in spring to the delight of the children, during the day at regular intervals the islet that emerged in the center was transformed into a fountain and he had ended up right in it.

Tourists and Florentines who passed by began to laugh and take pictures of him, not stopping to ask if he was okay or needed a hand. He hurried out of the soaking wet tub, taking shelter in an isolated part of the fortress, his passage marked by wet shoe prints. Fear appeared nearby, sitting on the hood of a busy Land Rover playing with a cell phone taken from somewhere.

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Riccardo started to leave, but Fear jumped in front of him, blocking him.

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Fear "crossed" him and Riccardo immediately returned dry, even his clothes.

But not with hot air - otherwise it would have been too comfortable - but as cold as the first day of winter. When things were done the Fear dragged him with impatient glee through the quiet night streets of the neighborhood while the air slowly impregnated the aroma of rain.. Riccardo constantly kept an eye on the reactions of people who passed him to be ready to explain why there was a guy disguised as an alien with him ... but he never had the opportunity to justify himself, because no one looked to them. Quite simply the Fear could not be seen, as this one explained.

That it was not his world and this, consequently; did not recognize them as it creature. There was this strange law that whatever landed in a realm not it own, its existence became a "non-existence" ... in short, invisible and intangible like air. This explanation only partially heartened the man since only he could see it, this could also mean that his head was not yet working so well.

Suddenly they stopped, something had caught the creature's attention. He told him to wait there and disappeared again, without explanation.

Riccardo was really exhausted, he sat without permission at the outside table of a small bar nearby and when a waiter appeared he immediately ordered a beer without even taking the menu, at that moment he just needed any one and that it was frozen. The beer arrived immediately and with the same speed he drained half of it: it was bitter, amber colored and with a slight smoky aftertaste, not bad for not being one of his favorites. As he drowned his thoughts in the foam, he looked at an excited group of teenager who were stationed in front of a kind of closed office, above the glass door obscured by a kind of red halo stood a red writing that said "The Dungeons of the Duke - Escape Room".

He had heard of those Escape Rooms, it was a game in which people were locked in a room and in order to get out they had to solve riddles or pass small tests. He had never thought of participating, either because he didn't care, or because he didn't want to take the risk of facing a test that had to do with darkness. Many of those teens looked bright and their cackles did not allow them to fully relax. A scolding wouldn't hurt, if he had the strength to do it.

He was about to gulp down the last half of his drink when suddenly a stabbing pain in his temples stopped him, then passed from his eyes and into the pit of his stomach. He felt like everything was exploding in him, he was so sick that he curled up on the ground and stayed in that position until - thank God - he began to feel better again. A bartender and a waitress assisted him, embarrassed he tried to reassure them by asserting that he was fine ... but he himself was not sure of the answer given, when two nebulous figures began to take shape behind them, at first smoky and transparent ... and gradually more and more clear and solid.

They were trees.

Trees with fruit hanging from branches or bushes growing at the base.

The burnt black trunk from which gray sap dripped, leaves half transparent as ice.

On the waitress had emerged a tree with a thin trunk with fruits like apples but covered with green scales, the part of the bud looked like a wide open snake's mouth and the same trunk was articulated like that of a snake that rises to attack.

On the bartender instead dangled a dying vine twisted on a thick star that seemed to pierce the back of the individual, woven like a spider's web on which hung clusters of grapes very similar to small arachnids, the smaller berries looked like eggs.

Riccardo almost screamed for a moment and bit his tongue hard to stop himself from doing it.

More creepy trees appeared around him, held up by unsuspecting people. All different, all full with creepy fruit.

He ran into the men's room, locking himself in the first free toilet. He sat curled up on the cup, the vanilla smell of the room perfume (aroma he usually liked) at that moment so disgusted him that for a moment he needed to vomit. He had gone mad, he could not have seen… what he had seen.

> suddenly asked his fear, making him jump.

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Riccardo stammered, undecided on what to ask.

Astonished, he secretly stared at a customer who was in the bathroom with him, the large plant that rose from his back seemed a kind of parasite, the roots burrowed into the flesh without causing visible wounds. The trunk creaked when the person moved, the leaves falling off the rustling canopy disappeared into thin air after twirling for a few seconds.

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Suddenly there was no light, from the room he heard the amused voices of the customers.

Fear smiled too, but his grin heralded a far from peaceful evening. He took his face, the fingers pressed on his cheeks just enough to be able to touch his teeth internally, in order not to have nails the tips were hard and stung him.

If you won't be able to handle it, you won't just go back to that child who was locked up in a room that was afraid of the dark, oh no… you won't come back at all.

Trust your abilities and remember: don't be afraid of anything. >>

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With these last enigmatic words, his breath stinking of damp and rottenness, left him alone.

Suddenly he was enveloped in solid darkness, transforming himself back into that eerie black humanoid figure.

This time he experienced the whole unpleasant process of passing from human to monster: he started losing sensitivity all over the place, the accentuated numbness then became bitter cold that slowly enveloped and squeezed him from head to toe, the worst part was when he got his stomach , he would have vomited but his mouth was already gone.

It took him a few minutes to recover, at that moment he would have given all his salary for a hot tea or a coffee.

"What do I do now?" thought Riccardo. He didn't want to be seen with that face! Who knows what scenes he would have unleashed on the street!

Suddenly the bartender who had rescued him opened the toilet door, he tried to cover himself up and yelled at him not to look at him. The man widened his eyes in disbelief and said, "Where did that guy go?" He examined every inch of the cubicle and told his colleague that there was no one in there. Riccardo thought - almost offended - “So what about me? How can you say that there is no one?”. Yet, it was so: he had become invisible, not even the single mirror in the bathroom reflected them.

This kind of surprise was quite welcome, it saved him a lot of trouble. But what was he doing now? What did Fear want from him?

And above all, what the hell was the "harvest"?

The screams of the teenagers in front of the Escape Room became more excited, they were finally letting them in to begin the challenge. Who knows why that game seemed interesting to him now. Maybe it was the enthusiasm, maybe the low medieval-style tune, whatever it was drew him in that direction with a strange growing urge for curiosity.

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The Escape Room called "The Dungeons of the Duke" was part of the genre of historical themed games.

The room in which the five participants were closed was a small kingdom of black and red set up with Gothic-style furniture, the stone walls housed fake Renaissance art and several bronze coats of arms of the Florentine symbol. The golden and low light provided by fake candelabra so as to recreate a gloomy and somewhat claustrophobic atmosphere, from hidden self-speaking the voice of the Master guided like an invisible spirit the adventurers who had begun to look for clues to escape, rummaging through the furniture antique, low bookshelves and even under carpets.

The situation was starting to get frustrating; they could not decipher a refrain that should have led them to a jewelry box which, once opened; would have allowed to unlock a secret compartment inside.

Riccardo, meanwhile, was standing on the sidelines in a corner, like a cat watching and judging.

He realized a couple of interesting things: first of all, he could in the dark, better than when it was day, with a peculiar blue-tinted vision. All noises, even the lowest of whispers, were much more pronounced; to the point that occasionally the eardrums ached. The needs of the body such as eating or having to empty the bladder were suddenly gone, leaving behind an unusual feeling of emptiness.

He looked at the trees of those group, marveling at the diversity of each one.

Those damned fruits were there waiting for him, swollen and juicy, but not at all inviting to the point of being eaten. He tried to pick them up but they didn't come off the thin twigs, he could even hang on them and not fall off. How could he catch them then?

As he watched them, he realized that one of the two girls in the quintet had grown quieter. She looked very agitated by the interruption as the others continued to reflect with calm and amusement, her grassy parasite almost bending to one side under the weight of her products. These were very strange: they were white berries enclosed in an envelope of transparent leaves. Since the girl had darkened they had begun to bang inside trying to get out, each blow produced a small thud that resembled the blows you give to a door when you try to open it.

Involuntarily he touched the tree: both it and its mistress gave a vigorous jolt. Images of closed or dead-end rooms appeared in Riccardo's mind, rooms that shrink and so on.

Claustrophobia, the Fear of closed environments. That's what it was all about.

The girl became more anxious and nervous, an attitude that did not go unnoticed by the friends who began to tell her to calm down, more out of irritation than to help her. The rustle of the leaves of their trees grew slowly as an applause that encouraged Riccardo to do it again ... to do better. Maybe it was just an impression, but it seemed to him that the plants were talking to him, begging him to pick their products and feast on us.

From then on it became incredibly easy, like learning to swim.

It detonate like a firecracker, the fuse was already lit: the fake candelabra went out, in the "dungeons" darkness took over. In the dark seasoned with tiredness, annoyance and restlessness, trifles like a simple noise like the rustle of clothes or the touch of a person were able to magnify anything.

Finally, a kind of domino effect was unleashed: the first tile - represented by the red-haired girl - sent the other - friends - down with surprising speed. She started screaming, she wanted to get out of there because she was struggling to breathe, the guiding voice of the master was useless to calm her, her panic attack soon infected the others as well. While looking for the exit, blinded by a nonexistent danger, they collided against the furniture or against each other. When the executives of the Escape Room finally opened the doors of the makeshift prison, the group threw themselves out as if the devil were on their heels.

In the open air and with the light, the fog of fear that had enveloped them immediately dissipated, returning the lost lucidity to them, bringing with it the shame of having had a decidedly senseless reaction. Only the redhead was still upset, the panic had not yet subsided in her. Whishing to being part of the group she had deliberately hidden her phobia, as long as the game went smoothly she was able to contain it but then that banal interruption had magnified that little fear of being locked inside. What about the other guys? In their case it was the loss of control that frightened them, carried away by the current of events.

In short, it was nonsense.

A little justifiable accident if, on the other hand; it wasn't all Riccardo's doing.

He was still there, amazed at how much he had managed to combine by interrupting only the supply of light and manipulating with his presence the emotions of those poor kids who just wanted to have fun.

On the ground lay the fruit of his labor. Literally.

The floor was covered with those fruits that had cascaded down at the height of the fright, releasing an incredibly intense and suffocating fruity scent. He chuckled: frightening was the only way to pick them up, the trees had vibrated like a couple of maracas at that moment. Coming to understand how that process worked was an Epiphany, all of a sudden it all seemed incredibly obvious. Riccardo had felt pervaded by a particular excitement in the form of heat coming from the stomach, which went up to the throat and nose, leaving behind a pleasant tingling all inside.

It was not a big harvest, but the result was not bad at all, as a first attempt he could not complain.

The Fear of the Dark then appeared with an energetic leap of joy. His smile was the representation of true happiness.

Surrounded by that abundance, he threw himself on it, whatever fruit he could find at hand, he stuffed it entirely in his mouth, puffing out his cheeks like those of a hamster. As he ate and the dull colored drool dripped down from his jaws, he repeated "thank you" over and over again. He had never seen someone gorging himself on food so hard, how long had he not eaten?

He gathered up what was left and made it sink shadows with him, as he did so a muffled and distant chorus of euphoria could be heard. Who else was enjoying that? The other fears perhaps?

Riccardo thought about it ... but he was too tired now to keep his thoughts clear. He decided not to worry about it anymore for that evening, returning home between one yawn and another. As soon as he put his weary limbs to bed, most of that evening would be forgotten. All in favor of fear, of course.