Image created in Artguru
At midnight, the painting on the wall whispered my name.
—"Alan"— I thought it was a nightmare, but I wasn't asleep; I was paralyzed in my bed, only able to tilt my head to look for the person joking with me... But I was alone in my room.
My eyes landed on the portrait hanging in front of me, the face of my maternal great-grandfather stared back at me.
—“Alan, it’s me”— I heard it again... he called me again, this time more forcefully, the voice emerging from the canvas.
A chill ran down my spine; it was sheer terror. I focused on not losing my mind. How could this even be possible? My great-grandfather had died decades ago, I didn't even know his voice, but this portrait was moving its lips and blinking.
Persistently, the voice continued: —“Alan, it’s urgent. You must listen to me”—
The paralysis prevented me from jumping in fright; fleeing in terror was not an option. The portrait seemed to come to life; the old man's facial expressions looked very real, and he said to me:
—“The truth about our lineage must be known once and for all. Trust what I'm telling you”—
After saying that, he fell silent for a long time; it took me a while to realize that the painting had returned to normal and that I had regained my mobility.
I got up and walked toward the picture. I examined it closely, but I found nothing irregular.
—“What must I do?”— I asked the portrait, but there was no response.
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