Some stories should never have left the dark. Stories people used to share with me when I opened the phone lines of my mystery radio show-at ten o'clock at night, almost thirty years ago. It was a strange hour: too early for sleep, too late to pretend nothing was wrong. And maybe that's why the voices trembled slightly, as if every listener felt that something on the other side might be listening too. I never really understood why they told me these things. Perhaps because, at that hour, honesty outweighed shame. Or because fear found cracks between words small gaps through which to escape. Ghosts that sat on someone's bed without leaving a trace. Shadows crossing hallways where no windows existed. Objects that changed places again and again as if demanding the attention of those who refused to look. Boards that moved slowly, even when everyone swore no one had touched them. And testimonies... testimonies that, even today, still breathe on the back of my neck when I close my eyes. This book gathers those stories. The most disturbing ones. The ones that never made it fully on air. The ones that left silence hovering in front of the microphone while I wondered if it was a warning, a memory... or simply proof that there is a side of the world we'd rather not see. But it's there. Watching. Waiting.