In Prague, in the heart of the Old Town, where winding streets intertwine like veins beneath old skin, lies Spálená Street. Here, where every stone remembers ancient ages and where the air still carries the echo of ancient fires, after which the street got its name in 1506, many strange stories were told. Among them, one that chilled the blood in veins and was whispered only behind closed doors, when deep night reigned outside and moonlight only faintly kissed the roofs. It was a story about doppelgängers.

In one of those old, oppressive houses on Spálená Street lived Kateřina, a simple and pious woman, but with a mind open to the strange things that happened in Prague. Her husband was a craftsman, a good and hardworking man, who after a day’s toil always looked forward to a peaceful sleep. However, it was precisely his sleep that became the source of Kateřina’s deepest anxiety.

For at that time, strange rumors spread through Prague’s pubs and arcades. People whispered about doppelgängers, beings who could leave their physical bodies at night. While the shell slept peacefully in bed, their spiritual form wandered the city, visited places, saw things, and even acted. They could be in two places at once, which was unimaginable and terrifying for an ordinary person. Kateřina initially just waved her hand at these tales. It was