In the heart of San Gimignano, Hotel La Vigna looms like a shadow draped in the whispers of long-forgotten souls, its ancient walls steeped in the weight of centuries. Guests often find themselves gripped by an unsettling chill, as if the very air breathes with the sighs of the past, while doors creak open and closed on their own, revealing nothing but the gnawing silence behind. And at night, when the moon drapes its silver veil over the cobblestones, disembodied voices dance through the corridors, murmuring secrets that were perhaps meant to remain buried, leaving those who listen with an icy grip on their hearts and the unsettling notion that they are never truly alone.

Hotel La Cisterna looms like a forgotten specter against the twilight sky, its ancient stone walls whispering secrets of a 14th-century past tainted by sorrow. Guests wander its dimly lit corridors, hearts racing at the sound of phantom footsteps echoing their own, while a bitter chill seeps through the air, wrapping around them like a shroud. Those who dare to settle into the shadowy embrace of this forsaken inn often find themselves sharing their room with figures clad in tattered medieval garb, eternally trapped between the realms of the living and the dead, leaving behind a lingering dread that suggests they might never truly be alone.