During a dark and dull day in the middle of autumn, when the clouds hung low and ready to burst; Ludwig found himself driving around the dreariest parts of Florence, Italy – preparing to pay a visit to one of his oldest friends. Feliciano Vargas had been a childhood companion of Ludwig's and the two were once inseparable. Unfortunately, their blossoming friendship had been drawn to an abrupt close when Ludwig's parents died in an accident and he was forced to move back to Germany with his grandfather.
The two friends lost contact and the seemingly unbreakable friendship crumbled. However, several weeks ago, Ludwig had received a letter from Feliciano saying that he would like to see the German in order to repair their relationship. Ludwig had a nagging suspicion that the letter held a deeper meaning, but nevertheless, obliged to the Italian's request.
As he approached the grandiose Vargas estate, he was astonished to find that the manor had lost the stately vigor which he had remembered from his childhood. The garden and shrubbery were unkempt, the paint was chipped and peeled, and the foundation poured innumerable cracks. The house as a whole possessed a melancholy sentiment – perhaps over exaggerated by the withering greenery or the oppressive atmosphere caused by the oncoming storm: all the same, an icy feeling of gloom engulfed him as he paled at these abnormalities.
These changes were unsettling: as he recalled, the Vargas family took great pride in the appearance of their manor as it was a symbol of their great wealth and flourishing business. To see such a drastic and sudden display of carelessness, something unfortunate must have happened – or so he assumed. Once he settled on a parking spot in front of the mansion, a loud clap of thunder sounded from the sky.
Ludwig gingerly stepped out of the car and headed towards the grand entryway of the house. He took one of the two ornate door knockers in hand and gave three loud strikes before proceeding into the estate. Upon entrance, he noticed Feliciano sprawled out on the sofa, no doubt enjoying his midday nap.
This was nothing new. Ever since they were children, Feliciano had the habit of falling asleep at precisely three o'clock p.m. – No matter the place, occasion, or person he fell asleep on. Ludwig placed a hand on the Italian's shoulder and gently shook him in an attempt to rouse the male.
"Feliciano…" he whispered, "wake up…"
Upon mention of his name, Feliciano's eyes slowly slid open; he sat up and let out a brief yawn.
The first thing Ludwig noticed about Feliciano was, like his mansion, the Italian seemed to have a disconsolate aura surrounding him – which was also unsettling. Growing up, Feliciano was the most flamboyant person that he had ever known. He was always smiling and always bouncing around. Now the boy possessed a stoic demeanor and his movements were slow and rigid; almost as if it pained him to do so.
"Oh, Ludwig!" Feliciano exclaimed as he threw his arms around the German's neck. "It's so good to see you…" Well, perhaps things weren't as different as he assumed. This was also a common occurrence; Feliciano never made any effort to conceal his feeling or emotions. As a matter of fact, to Ludwig's great annoyance, he made it his upmost priority to display them in the least subtle way possible.
"Yes…" Ludwig replied as he tried to remove the Italian from his person, "It's been quite some time. Have you been well?"
Feliciano nodded with a soft smile which instantaneously faltered.
Ludwig threw his friend a worried glance. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, placing a hand on Feliciano's shoulder. Feliciano winced at the gesture and brushed Ludwig's had away. He immediately rose to his feet with a bounce; taking Ludwig's hands in his.
"Oh! I almost forgot! Are you hungry? The trip here must have been tiring! And boring, and long, and- What would you like to eat? Oh, I know! I'll cook some pasta! Pasta's always a good way to celebrate! What kind of sauce would you like? Oh! I know! I'll make some pesto sauce! You wait right here while I go and make it! I'll be right back! Feel free to make yourself at home!" And before Ludwig could get another word in, Feliciano had vanished into the next room.
He slumped onto the couch in a stupor; it never failed to amaze him at how easily Feliciano could get off topic so quickly. Ludwig breathed deeply before regaining his composure; running a hand through his hair, he stood up and straightened out his coat. He decided to take these few movements of silence as an opportunity to explore his surroundings.
Even though the lighting was dim and a healthy coating of cobwebs and dust crusted the surface of everything not used on a daily-basis, the mansion remained unchanged from what he remembered: extravagant chandlers hanging from the ceilings, rows upon rows of books (ranging from classic fairy tales to medical dictionaries) stacked neatly onto oak bookshelves, imported goods (such as rugs, tapestries, and sofas), family portraits, trophies, and the old Grandfather clock placed in the center of the foyer. Yes, everything was in place; however, the atmosphere couldn't be any more different. Instead of the warm and inviting environment in which he became so familiar with, there was something cold and menacing lingering in the air.
It almost felt as if someone were staring down at him with so much pure hate and malice that they would stop at nothing to make sure that he dropped dead. Perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement (Ludwig tended to be on the overly-superstitious side), but to put it simply: Ludwig did not feel safe in the house.
Another loud clap of thunder sounded, shaking the very foundation of the house. Ludwig shivered. After securing his coat tightly around his body, he went to continue his venture when suddenly, a blood-curdling scream reverberated throughout the mansion and Ludwig could almost feel his heart stop.
Someone stormed loudly down the stairs, screaming at the top of his voice, "Where is that bastard? When I find him, I'm going to kill him!"
Feliciano hurried into the room and firmly embraced the other, "Oh, Lovino! Calm down!"
"Calm down?" he replied, "You want me to calm down? I'll calm down when that bastard Antonio is dead!"
Ludwig could only watch in a daze as the scene in front of him played out.
"Lovino, Antonio isn't here!" Feliciano cried, gripping at his twin brother's shirt.
"Where is he then? I'll chase that little shit to the ends of the earth! How dare he try to escape!" Lovino shook as he spoke, rage visible on the creases of his face.
Without warning, Feliciano landed a slap right on his brother's cheek, "Come to your senses, fratello!" Feliciano screamed as tears streamed down his face, "It's all in your head, Lovino! Antonio is dead!"