Counterclockwise

I. Present: The End

The sound of the murky water of the Tiber mingles with the cries of seagulls soaring above the shacks of Fiumara. Giacomo, the last descendant of the family, clutches the fob watch between his grease-stained fingers. It's an heirloom now out of place, with its chipped face and hands frozen at some random hour of a forgotten day. His hand trembles, not from cold but from fear. Something moves in the shadows behind him.

A shiver runs down his spine as he hears footsteps slowly approaching. His heart pounds in his chest, as if trying to break free. Giacomo grips the watch tighter, as if it could protect him from what is about to happen. The air suddenly becomes heavy, charged with a malignant energy that seems to suffocate all hope.

The footsteps stop right behind him. Giacomo doesn't dare turn around, paralyzed by terror. A deep, raspy voice whispers in his ear: "The time has come to pay your family's debt, Giacomo." The icy words pierce his mind like sharp blades.

The watch in his hand begins to vibrate, the hands moving backward with a sinister ticking. Giacomo feels himself being dragged into an abyss of darkness from which there is no return. The cursed legacy of his family is about to claim its last victim.

"You have to get rid of it," whispers a voice in his mind, or maybe it was the wind. Giacomo finds the courage to turn, looking at the shadows that seem to be taking shape. It's not the first time he's heard that whisper, and each time it's more insistent. The watch has haunted him for years: dreams of faceless eyes, muffled screams, and the slow crumbling of everything he loved.

With a desperate gesture, he heads towards a makeshift stall, a junk dealer with his gaze shrouded in cigarette smoke. "How much will you give me for this?" he asks, trying to mask his haste. The man observes him, intrigued, before nodding and holding out a crumpled bill.

As Giacomo walks away, he realizes that the weight on his chest has lifted. But it's not just relief: it's as if a shadow has detached from him, an invisible thread cut. Behind him, the junk dealer raises the watch to the sunlight, the face reflecting an unnatural, almost hungry gleam.

II. 1940s: The Fall

World War II had brought ruin and despair to Giacomo's family. His grandfather, Carlo, kept the watch as an amulet against death. But the watch did not protect, it claimed. The night the air-raid shelter collapsed, only Carlo survived. The watch was in his pocket, but the price of his life was high: his wife and children remained buried in the rubble.

After that day, Carlo became a shadowy man, haunted by visions of hands trying to grab him from the shadows. He said the watch spoke to him, forcing him to do things he didn't want to do. One night, in desperation, he tried to throw it into the Tiber, but the next day he found it miraculously on his bedside table, intact.

Carlo stared at the watch on the nightstand, terror gripping his throat. How could it have come back? He had thrown it in the river, he was sure of it. Yet there it was, the face glowing with a sinister light in the dimness of the room.

The hands moved backward, as if trying to take him back to that terrible night. Carlo closed his eyes, but the images assailed him anyway: the roar of the bombs, the desperate screams of his wife and children, the collapse of the shelter. And him, miraculously unharmed, with the watch clutched in his fist.

"Why me?" he whispered, his voice broken with pain and guilt. "Why did I survive?"

The watch seemed to answer him with a louder, almost mocking tick. Carlo felt a presence behind him, a shadow lengthening on the wall. He turned abruptly, but the room was empty.

"You are the one who chose me," said a voice in his head. "Or maybe it's fate that chose you. It doesn't matter. Now you are mine."

Carlo grabbed the watch, his hands shaking. He wanted to destroy it, shatter that cursed object that had taken everything from him. But he couldn't. Every time he tried, an invisible force blocked his arm.

"You can't get rid of me," the voice continued. "I am part of you now. And you are part of me."

In the following days, Carlo began to notice strange changes around him. People avoided him, as if they sensed something dark in him. Children cried as he passed. Even dogs barked furiously when he approached.

The watch continued to whisper to him, showing him visions of a dark power he could attain. Carlo resisted, but he felt his will weaken day by day.

One evening, while walking along the Tiber, he saw a young woman about to throw herself into the river. Without thinking, he ran towards her to stop her. But when he reached her, he pushed her down.

III. Nineteenth Century: The Rise

The family, then flourishing, owned a small antique shop. It was Carlo's ancestor, Marcello, who discovered the watch in a crate from a bankruptcy auction. The jewel seemed to bring good luck: business prospered and Marcello became one of the richest men in Rome. But with wealth also came tragedy. His wife died under mysterious circumstances, and his eldest son went mad, claiming that the watch "saw everything."

Marcello ignored the signs, obsessed with his growing fortune. But his end was as sudden as his success: one night, the shop went up in flames. Among the ashes, only the watch was recovered, intact and still ticking.

"How is it possible?" Marcello murmured, staring incredulously at the shiny face.

It was then that he noticed that the hands were moving backward, ticking with an unnatural rhythm. And as he stared at them, he seemed to see reflected on the glass the images of all his past successes, but distorted, as if they were hiding a dark truth.

He shuddered, remembering his son's words before he was taken away screaming: "The watch sees everything, father! It sees the past, the present and the future! And it will condemn us all!"

Marcello clutched the watch to his chest, torn between the desire to throw it away and the irresistible attraction it exerted on him. It was at that moment that he heard a whisper, as if the watch itself was speaking to him.

"Don't be afraid, Marcello," the voice said. "I am your fortune. I have given you everything and I can give you even more. You just have to trust me."

Marcello hesitated, looking at the ruins of his shop. He had lost everything, but the watch promised to give him everything back, and more. What did he have to lose?

"What do I have to do?" he finally asked, feeling as if he was making a pact with the devil.

The watch seemed to shine more intensely in the moonlight. "Listen to me," it whispered. "And I will show you secrets that no man has ever known."

As Marcello nodded, accepting his fate, he did not notice the black shadow lengthening behind him.

IV. Eighteenth Century: The Decline

The alley was shrouded in fog when the watch made its first appearance. It was a watchmaker from Piazza Navona, Niccolò, who built it for a corrupt cardinal. Niccolò was desperate: his family was starving, and he agreed to infuse the watch with a dark seal, a pact with forces he did not understand. When the cardinal died suddenly, the watch returned to Niccolò, beginning its long and bloody history in the family.

Giuseppe stared at the recovered watch, his hands shaking. The face was still stained with the nobleman's blood, a sinister reminder of the dark power it possessed.

"What are you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with terror.

As if in response, the hands of the watch began to move frantically backward. Giuseppe felt a shiver run down his spine as images of past events flashed through his mind: the nobleman dying screaming, the watch mysteriously returning to his house, the whispers in the night that tormented him.

Determined to rid himself of that cursed object once and for all, Giuseppe headed for the Tiber. The night was dark and silent, broken only by the gurgling of the river. With a desperate cry, he hurled the watch into the black water.

For a moment, he stood motionless, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, slowly, a relieved smile spread across his face. It was over. He was free.

But as he turned to leave, he heard a noise behind him. The river water bubbled as if something was emerging from the depths. With horror, Giuseppe saw the watch floating towards him, its hands spinning wildly.

A voice, cold as death, whispered in his ear: "You cannot get rid of me, Giuseppe. We are bound for eternity."

Giuseppe fell to his knees, overwhelmed by despair. He understood that the watch was not just a cursed object, but something much older and more powerful. An entity that had bound itself to his family, feeding on their lives and souls.

As he picked up the watch, Giuseppe knew his fate was sealed. The watch would be passed down from generation to generation, carrying with it a curse that would haunt his family for centuries.

With a resigned sigh, Giuseppe walked towards home, the watch clutched in his fist. The hands ticked relentlessly, marking the passage of time and the dark destiny that awaited his descendants.

V. Sixteenth Century: The Origin

The alley was shrouded in fog when the watch made its first appearance. It was a watchmaker from Piazza Navona, Niccolò, who built it for a corrupt cardinal. Niccolò was desperate: his family was starving, and he agreed to infuse the watch with a dark seal, a pact with forces he did not understand. When the cardinal died suddenly, the watch returned to Niccolò, beginning its long and bloody history in the family.

Niccolò trembled as he engraved the last occult symbols on the back of the watch. The candles flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls of his workshop. Outside, the fog thickened, isolating the alley from the rest of Rome.

"It is done," he whispered, lifting the watch. The dial emanated an unnatural, malevolent light, and the hands moved with a sinister ticking that seemed to resonate within Niccolò's bones.

"This watch will mark more than time, Niccolò. It will mark the fate of whoever possesses it."

At that moment, someone knocked on the door. Niccolò jumped, hastily hiding the watch under a cloth. It was the cardinal's servant, who had come to collect the precious object.

In the following days, Niccolò tried to forget the watch and the dark pact he had made. But at night, in his dreams, he saw hands turning backward and heard whispers of ancient and terrible voices.

A week later, the news of the cardinal's sudden death shook Rome. And that same night, Niccolò found the watch on the doorstep of his shop, as if it had returned on its own.

With trembling hands, Niccolò picked it up. The ticking seemed louder, almost triumphant. And as he stared at it, he thought he saw reflected on the dial images of future events: his family prospering, but also mysterious deaths and inexplicable tragedies.

"What have I done?" murmured Niccolò, realizing that the watch was not just an object, but a living and hungry entity. An entity that had bound his fate and that of his descendants to itself.

The watch ticked in response, sealing a pact that would last for centuries. Niccolò understood that he could no longer get rid of it. It was the beginning of a long and dark legacy that would haunt his family for generations.

As the fog cleared outside the window, Niccolò clutched the watch to his chest, feeling the weight of his terrible secret.

VI. Epilogue: The Circle

A distinguished man approaches the antique shop, fascinated by the watch. He buys it without hesitation. When he holds it in his hands, the dial glows faintly. Now far away, Giacomo shudders, but does not turn around.

"Foolish mortals, do you think you can get rid of me so easily? I am the hidden shadow, the hunger that feeds on your souls."

I observe my new owner, fascinated by my gleam. His fingers, unaware of the fate that awaits him, caress my dial. Soon, he too will know despair, terror, madness.

Giacomo, the last of his line, believes he has broken the chain. Poor fool. He does not know that the bond that united us is stronger than blood, older than time.

I have seen them all, one after another, succumb to my influence. I savor their hopes, their fears, their slow descent into the abyss. The greedy merchant, the superstitious, the guilty... each of them has helped to feed my darkness.

And now, a new cycle begins. The hands turn, time flows, and I wait patiently. No matter how far they run, how deeply they try to hide. I will find them. Always.

Because I am the clock, and they are mine. For eternity.