The Terrible Old Man

Of the old man who lived in the ancient, dilapidated house by the sea, many stories were told.It was said that he had once been the captain of a ship that sailed to Asia for trade, and perhaps from this arose the legend of his incredible wealth.

Some claimed that in the decaying old mansion, he hid a treasure composed of rare gemstones, but no one could say for certain because the man was taciturn and solitary, rarely seen in town. So much so that no one was even sure of his name anymore. His age was also a topic of discussion, as the elders insisted they remembered him—long beard, white hair, and wrinkled face—since they were children, something evidently impossible because no one could live that long... The children of the town enjoyed telling those stories to scare the younger ones, but even the bravest of them wouldn't dare approach the sailor's house. Even the adults preferred to keep their distance.

Some curious souls who had peered through the first-floor windows had seen a table in the center of an empty room, and on the table were strange bottles with which the homeowner conversed, addressing them by the names of old pirates.

Anyone who accidentally overheard those conversations never went back. This, however, happened among those who lived in the town.

Angelo, Joe, and Manuel came from elsewhere and had only half-listened to those stories, not taking them too seriously.

For them, in the house by the sea, there was a lonely old man and a treasure, and that was enough. Because the three were thieves, and as experts in their trade, they hadn't missed the old man's unsteady gait the few times he left his house. Nor had they overlooked that he paid for everything with ancient silver coins. For them, it was enough to choose him as their next victim.

They picked a moonless night and approached the villa from different directions, to avoid drawing attention.

Angelo and Manuel would enter and search for the hidden treasure. And if they couldn't manage on their own, they planned to convince the man to cooperate... after all, they were two and he was old and weak. Meanwhile, Joe would wait for them on the street, at the wheel of the car they intended to use for their getaway.

The two thieves then approached the house.

They saw the old man through the dusty window, busy talking to the bottles, and knocked decisively on the door.

Joe, sitting in the car, was waiting. Minutes passed, he nervously checked his watch, and nothing happened. He started to get restless because he couldn't imagine what was taking his friends so long. Then the silence of the night was broken by desperate screams and cries.

"They're overdoing it," the little thief thought. "After all, he's just a poor old man, there was no need to scare him so much." Calm returned, but there was no sign of his companions. Joe felt increasingly anxious because he didn't like waiting there in the dark... Finally, he heard a faint noise on the garden path, then someone fumbled with the latch on the gate. Joe strained his eyes because he had parked the car in a dark spot on the street to avoid attracting attention, in case the police passed by...

Now, however, he was curious to find out what had kept Angelo and Manuel so long.

He shivered, watching the decrepit villa silhouetted against the dark sky... and then finally the gate opened. But behind it were not the two boys, but the old man, leaning on his cane, with a cruel grin on his face.

He stared at him with his yellow eyes. The town continued to talk for a long time about the three horribly mutilated bodies found washed up on the shore, the abandoned car, and the strange cries heard one night, probably from some wild animal. They became local legends, the kind the children told, which the old man on the cliff ignored, like all the other whispered stories in the town...