Act One:

My head….

Cripes….

Ah….What's that noise?

Is that the car's horn?

Yeah…yeah it is.

Oh lord….did…did I crash?

I look up and see a tree staring back at me through the crashed windshield.

Roger that. That's a ten-four, good buddy.

I think I can still move my arms and legs.

Yeah, I can.

I unbuckle my seatbelt (which I had on, thank god), get to my surprisingly intact legs (arms and legs okay; just a wicked headache), and look at my totaled rental car.

And was I smart enough to get the insurance? No. Uncle John always said that that stuff's a waste.

I suddenly remember my friend Missy's words. "Come to Europe, we'll have a blast, we've rented this kick-ass place in the country side. It'll be fun."

I had nothing else planned for summer vacation, and I missed her since she left for that arts school in Italy with her boyfriend, Kyle. So I packed my bags, bought a plane ticket, and came here.

Now here I am.

Anika Harris, an American college student stuck in a European back road who doesn't have a cell phone signal or the sense to get rental car insurance.

A chill blows through the air, making my long black hair slap me in the face and me close my leather jacket with my hands. (Good thing I chose my jeans over my miniskirt this morning.) The bitter nighttime around me begins to fill my mind with unease.

Great, now what do I do? There's nothing but forest and fog all around me.

No…wait…What is that? Is that a house light? It is! I can see it through the fog!

I grab my backpack, a flashlight to guide my obscured way, and my phone.

Oh, and Missy's present!

I went to Chinatown before I left the states and found

this thing that I knew she would just love. (Had a fun time getting it through customs.) Man, I'd be pissed if I came back to the car and it was stolen.

With anything remotely valuable out of the car, I begin my trek to the light.

It's so quiet. It's just my footsteps. I can't even hear any crickets or frogs. (I forget. Are there frogs in Italy?) The flashlight barely cuts through the fog. I was never a fan of walking around in the dark, especially in the forest. It's my own fault, I suppose. I've been a horror movie nut for as long as I remember. While you'd figure that I would be desensitized, I just became more aware of what could, but probably really wasn't, wandering in the dark.

Wait! What's that?!

A man!

A man in a mask!

A man in a mask with a machete!

No, not a machete; claws!

I send my flashlight over, get ready to defend myself, and find myself face to face with my so-called attacker.

Just a tree. A small, dead tree.

Oh snap outta it, Anika.

Oh what? Is Freddy Krueger going to jump out at you?

In the middle of Italy?

As I continue to walk, I begin to ponder something. How the hell did I crash the car?

I think I remember. I was driving through the back roads, trying to make heads or tails of the directions Missy sent me. (I love her to death, but Missy really sucks at giving directions. But it was actually pretty generous of her. The envelop that had the instructions also had a map, a guide, and my plane ticket. Don't worry, I'm going to pay her back for the tickets.)

That's when it jumped right out in the middle of the road.

A dog. Or maybe it was a wolf. I couldn't tell.

It was lucky that I didn't hit it. Its fur was white, the same color as the fog. I almost didn't see it. I almost hit it.

But no, I hit the tree instead.

Yippee. Fido gets to live and jump in front of cars for another day and I get to get yelled at by an Italian rental car guy who barely speaks English.

I finally come up to the source of the light- a farmhouse.

The porch groans and creaks like an old person as I cross over it to knock on the screen door that had obviously seen better days.

I knock once. Nothing.

I knock again. Still nothing.

Shook!

Huh? What was that?

Shook!

It's coming from the fields, whatever it is.

Shook!

I can barely make out the figure of a skinny guy in the fields, swinging some sort of farming tool. A scythe I think.

I make my way for him. Normally, a girl in my situation might whine and complain about her feet sticking in the mud, but not me. With my combats boots on, I welcome mud. (Plus, I've always been considered a bit of a tough girl.)

I finally made it to hearing distance of the man when I called out to him. I can speak a little Italian (but not enough to save my ass from the rental car guy).

"Scuza? Senor?"

He doesn't look at me at first. He just stops whipping that scythe around and stands there.

Uh oh. I've got a bad feeling.

He slowly turns to me and ends up giving me the shock of my life. Under his mop of stringy black hair, I can see his eyes. His dull, almost corpselike eyes. His blueish and puckered skin boasts a rigid, boney frame pressing from under it.

And then there's this smell. Oh lord, the smell's the worst.

It's a musky, rotten, salt watery smell that almost makes me gag.

He's like a dead body.

A dead body that's been held underwater for years upon years.

He grins at me with moldy, yellow-green teeth and hoarsely whispers my name, like two pieces of driftwood rubbing against each other in a rough tide.

"Anika!"

That's when he swings his scythe at me. And almost out of instinct, I hit the dirt,

only feeling the wind of the blade rather than the actual one.

"What the hell's your problem?!" (Too bad I didn't learn that phrase in Italian,

huh?)

He doesn't take much time to attack again. Next thing I know, the scythe's lodged

in the mud a hair's distance away from my side.

I don't ask questions. I just run like hell.

God, this trip has sure gone from bad to worse! (I didn't read anything about scythe-

swinging madmen in the guide to Italy!)

I can hear the scythe man call out to me in his driftwood voice.

"I will find you, Anika! You cannot escape Lucio!"

Lucio? Is that this lunatic name?

I'm not really running to anyplace in particular. I suppose no one really would if

they were being chased by a maniac in the middle of nowhere.

I've gotten a bit of ways from him, and the fog is still pretty thick.

Shut off the flashlight. That'll conceal your location more.

A log. Just big enough for you to squeeze into.

I get on my hands and knees and crawl inside. Ugh, please don't be any spiders.

I can hear Lucio walking up to the log's side. My neck hair stands on its end. I

begin to silently pray that he won't find me.

Then it's quiet. Really quiet. The sort of quiet that I encountered before I did the

farmhouse and it's insane occupant.

Safe? Am I safe?

A scythe blade cracked through the log's wood right next to my face answered my

question.

Lucio's cry was a wave crashing on a beach. "Found you, Anika!"

Oh screw this.

I send my booted leg through the log's wall and gave Lucio's crotch a little hello.

Reanimated corpse thing or not, Lucio felt it and went crumbling to his knees.

I bolt straight into the foggy darkness with Lucio yelling out curses from the

growing distance.

Great, no what do I do?

Wait…Is that another light?

Is it the farmhouse?

I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I ran in a straight line.

Well, even if it is, maybe I could wrestle up some farming tools of my own to

defend myself with. Plus, it's not like I have any more options.

The light seems to be a million miles away, but somehow, I still make it to it.

And to my shock, it wasn't the farmhouse.

It was a castle.

A frickin' castle.

The gate is open, so I just run right in. It's a bit of a chore, but I still close it and

put some rocks and stuff in front of it. I find one of the front doors to be unlocked and

just go right in and lock the door.

Safe. Finally safe.

I peek out the window to see if the barricade's holding.

Then I get that bad feeling again.

I hear a deep, stifled squeal from behind me.

Oh crap. What now?

Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, I turn.

Unfortunately, I find myself face to face with the largest man I've ever seen.

Uh oh…this can't be good…

He opens his long, thick, tree limbs of arms and jovially cries out to the heavens.

"Dolly!"