L'ombra (Short Story)

L'ombra

The supernatural are feared by the ones who have experienced them. There are not a lot of instances where they interact with humans, much less form a bond. But Luca Lombardi was one of the lucky few.

She was a young woman who valued money, popularity and notoriety more than matters of the heart. She definitely didn't think much of ghosts, most of her exposure being from her parents' campfire stories. Ever since her youth, her natural beauty was a catalyst in developing such a personality. It was no surprise to those around her when she expressed her wishes to involve herself in the fashion world.

As she gained more and more traction there, her ego and recklessness had only become greater. She did hard drugs and hard liquor. She splurged money on cars and clothes. She bedded anyone that as much as batted an eyelid at her. Did she care about her longevity, or how people thought of her? The answer was obvious enough.

A few years after her surge in fame, she was resting with a cool beverage in hand at the Pacifica Resort in Belo Horizonte, Brazil.

"Grato," Luca said to the waiter who handed over her drink. She had spent the day partying with the locals. Before she knew it, the sun had disappeared under the horizon. She planned to hang around admiring the view and listening intently to the soft whispers of the night.

As she was about to turn around and indulge in her drink, she sensed something queer in the air. It wasn't the alcohol she ingested earlier, that she was sure of. It was strong enough to control her, but she could still feel herself resisting it. The force beckoned her to enter the nearby woods.

"I boschi, i boschi..."

"I must be going crazy," contemplated Luca in her head. Deciding that she should just get this over with, she got dressed in something more reasonable and set out to the woods.

The foliage around her was thick, but nothing she couldn't maneouvre around with her flashlight. She felt the pull getting weaker and stronger in some places, guiding her to the right location. After more minutes of exploring the area, the mystical aura reached its climax at a small cabin. She stood still and pointed her flashlight to it. No one in sight.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" yelled out Luca. Despite the situation, she couldn't stop from giggling a little. "Just like in the American films, giusto?"

"Giusto."

She was silenced. She turned around to look at the demonic voice and fell to the ground from sheer shock after seeing the figure that towered behind her. Her breathing turned rapid. A cloaked entity lifted a dark, smoke-engulfed hand at Luca as she closed her eyes, preparing for her inevitable end.

...

But it wasn't to be. The figure raised its other hand and opened its palms. "I am not here to cause harm to you, Luca Lombardi."

Luca opened her eyes back. "What the, what are you—how do you...?"

"On the contrary, I am here because you have something that would be of use to me."

The Italian put her hand to her chest. "You're... you're going to kill me! A-and take my soul!" She started to hyperventilate.

The ghostly figure grew weary at Luca's theatrics. "I need to be more direct."

"Breathe deep and calm down. There's no need to be afraid. I'm not going to kill you, and I will not be taking your soul, or anything of the sort."

Luca edged back from its outburst, but slowly got her breathing back on track.

"I could really use your assistance. I'll make it worth your while." She's now on her feet after recollecting herself. "People call me lots of things. An Bhean Dorcha in Ireland, Puan Setan in Malaysia and L'ombra, in Italy." Luca gulped. She remembered her parents mentioning that name to her when she was young.