THE PILOT

Our pilot episode has already received top-level recognition—a testament to the extraordinary quality and impeccable timing with which we are launching this TV series. This success is more than a personal milestone; it is the unmistakable signal that the Italian creative ecosystem is ready for a revolution in the horror genre.

In an environment where innovation and tradition intertwine, we are proud to announce that SIAE, in collaboration with the Ministry of Cultural Heritage and Activities, has decided to subsidize a large part of the project through the "Per Chi Crea" program. This institutional support confirms the cultural and artistic value of our work, recognizing the potential of a fresh and daring approach in telling stories that blur the line between reality and nightmare.

The support we have received not only bolsters our confidence but also entrusts us with the responsibility to live up to the expectations of an increasingly discerning audience. In Italy, making horror has long been a challenge, yet our pilot proves that it is possible to innovate and reinvent the genre—offering a narrative experience that unites psychological tension, refined aesthetics, and visually impactful storytelling.

This is our call for change: with your help, we aim to bring to life a project that not only entertains but redefines the canons of horror, transforming every scene into an emotional and sensory experience. Join us on this revolutionary journey and help write a new chapter in the history of Italian cinema and television.

THE TERRIBLE OLD MAN

Angelo Ricci (33), Joe Czanek (35), and Samantha De Silva (28) traverse a breathtaking coastline, fresh from a heist that netted them a significant haul. The air is tense yet charged with satisfaction, accompanied by the rhythm of an old blues tune on the radio. As the sunset paints the sky in shades of red and orange, an unnaturally large full moon begins to reflect on the calm sea stretching beneath the coastal road. Fearing roadblocks, Angelo opts for secondary routes. The landscape shifts quickly: the beauty of the coastline gives way to a dark, wild nature as the GPS falters. The car’s headlights illuminate only a narrowing stretch of road, hemmed in by trees that seem to close in overhead.

As night deepens and nerves run high, the trio stumbles upon a small, isolated bar. Neon lights flicker above a faded sign. Inside, the setting is sparse and silent. The bartender—a gruff man in his fifties—mechanically cleans the counter, while a young waitress mops the floor, casting nervous glances at the newcomers. Everything suggests the bar is closed, yet Angelo convinces the bartender to serve them a meal. In the shadows at the back of the room sits a very elderly man. Deep wrinkles carve his face like canyons, and his clear, icy eyes seem to observe something unseen. The Old Man, moving with extreme slowness aided by a gnarled cane, stands to pay. As he pulls out some coins, one falls and rolls across the floor. It’s made of pure gold, and its tinkling echoes too long in the silence of the bar. Samantha, Joe, and Angelo exchange a glance—the Old Man is an easy target, an opportunity too tempting to pass up. Determined to return later, they leave the bar.

Meanwhile, the bartender double-locks the door and lowers the shutters. The frightened waitress plugs her ears as the two share a knowing look hinting at unspoken secrets. The Old Man’s house is revealed to be a stilted structure by the sea—both enchanting and spectral—illuminated by moonlight reflecting off the still waters. The building exudes an unsettling aura, as if it were timeless. Joe stands guard outside while Angelo and Samantha slip inside. No sooner do they cross the threshold than a nauseating odor assaults them. The interior is bizarre, filled with antiquated, macabre objects: ancient navigational instruments, well-worn books with titles in unknown languages, and jars that seem to contain organic remnants.

Outside, Joe notices something odd: the lights in the neighboring houses go out, and shadows appear to move behind closed windows. The air grows unnaturally silent, broken only by the sound of the waves. Inside, Angelo and Samantha discover a trunk that appears to hold something valuable. As they force it open, a sudden noise startles them. From the shadows emerges a figure—the Old Man. His eyes gleam with an otherworldly light, and his voice, cavernous and inhuman, echoes like an endless reverberation. Cries of agony and gunshots tear through the night. Alarmed, Joe rushes inside, only to see shadows moving at impossible speeds.

The scene shifts outdoors. Joe attempts to flee toward the car, but something pursues him. Through the windows, twisted, monstrous figures can be seen. Joe reaches the beach, but a gigantic creature—with eyes shining like the full moon—grabs him and drags him into the sea. The water closes over him, leaving only the moon’s reflection on its still surface.

At dawn, the bar reopens. Two new patrons enter. The bartender and the waitress remain indifferent, ignoring them. At the back of the room, seated at the same table as the previous night, is the Old Man once again. Daylight does little to soften his unsettling appearance. He smiles faintly, his wrinkled hands toying with a gold coin.