04/02/2017, London, United Kingdom.

It was a warm, sunny day when the gentle scent of dry soil and fresh grass lingered in the air like a gentle mist over a scenic valley. Just like any other day. The easy London streets are hustled and bustled with activity, children and adults getting on buses to head to their respective spaces, old and young people alike getting in and out of shops, band players performing by the Thames, the gentle melody of the saxophone filling the air like a symphony of notes.

[Scene]

"And this is our little gang of DUCKS! Say HI!!" exclaimed a boy with a camera, zooming in towards his friends making them laugh and some even told him to tone it down.

"Let us talk about ourselves, so our Kieran here can never forget who we are when he goes to that flashy city!"

The boy mentioned, Kieran, a boy in a white shirt, a blazer that towers his lanky figure and shorts. Looking almost like a tiny businessman waves to the camera enthusiastically alongside his friends.

"I'm Emily! Your craft mate!" a girl with ginger hair and bright eyes spoke into the camera, waving. Then another girl with blonde hair said "I'm Cassie, you better remember me because I helped you in math you weirdo!" that caused Kieran to laugh along. After everyone got done with introductions and their personal messages, the guy recording spoke up "And I'm Johnathan, this idiot's older brother who's also going to be keeping track of this recording for the future when we're away, and also because Kieran has butter fingers" that caused the whole group to howl with laughter, and also poor Kieran to be as red as a tomato.

"That's it! This just turned from a memory recording to bullying me! Stop!!" Kieran exclaimed frantically reaching for the camera. Causing the end footage to be shaky and capturing even more weird angles of his face unconsciously.

End Recording.

Kieran pressed the 'pause' button with a smile as he waited at the airport along with his family. A bittersweet feeling crossing his features. This was the life he was leaving behind for a new opportunity. A new chapter of his life. Where nobody knows what awaits him.

~°~

March 15th, 2021. Time: 2:00 P.M.

Kieran looked upon at his old house, the house which held all his memories of his infancy and childhood up to this point. The house he was going to leave behind. His heart is filled with a strange sense of longing and a deep feeling of nostalgia.

He walked forward to the porch and touched the signboard beside the mailbox.

'Lockhart'

His family name. Something so small yet so vast because it signifies the connection this home has with him, his family. Like it is a part he is leaving behind.

His touch lingered until he was called back by his father to return. He paid one last glance to the house and then followed him after collecting his luggage from Johnathan and helping his mother put them in the trunk.

Hence, a new journey begins.

The drive to the airport was fairly short as it was about 25 minutes from their house. Their ride stopped just by the gate. They got off, unloading their luggage. Afterwards Kieran's father handed over the keys to the driver who also happened to be a family friend of theirs and started to walk towards the airport.

As they waited, Kieran was on his phone. One headphone in, standing beside Johnathan.

Suddenly, a woman approached him and asked him about the directions to the parking, before Kieran could even answer Johnathan cut him off by asking

Johnathan: "Who are you talking to? there's nobody there."

That surprised Kieran because why couldn't Johnathan see the woman? He was about to say "But I'm talking to this-"

Nobody was there.

Kieran's blood ran cold. Then who was it?

Seeing Kieran's expression, Johnathan got concerned and grabbed his shoulders and faced him.

Johnathan: "Kieran? What happened? What did you see?"

Kieran just shook his head, "No.. Nothing. It must have been my mind."

Johnathan looked concerned, but let it slide. He took note that this was going to be a talk for later after they settled in.

They walked to the airport, waiting in line at the boarding gate as they showed their passports. The man at the booth asked:

"How many people?"

Their father answered "Four, with one minor."

The person at the booth asked:

"where are you headed?"

"New Zealand" answered their father.

The person at the booth did a once over and stamped the passport and handed it over.

They waited for a bit, got some snacks at the airport food court and when their number was called they got into the boarding line and boarded the plane.

The aircraft was large and spacious as they got on, after all, this was a British Airways airplane after all, it had to be grand.

They got a set of four seats by the middle aisle, Johnathan and Kieran fighting tooth and nail over the window seat.

Kieran: "NO IT'S MINE I'M THE BABY OF THE FAMILY!"

Johnathan: "HA! I'M THE OLDEST SO I GET DIBS!"

They quarreled like two cats over a fish.

Their mother stared like she wanted to burn a hole into their heads.

She yelled "SIT WHEREVER JUST SIT!"

They quickly sat down obediently without any more fight, they figured they didn't want any more trouble their way.

Kieran drifted off to sleep as soon as he sat down, in a different world all together.

..........

"Flight 295 onboard we're facing major turbulence please stay on stand by, I repeat please stay on standby!"

Loud crashes and screams echo around the plane, people cry for help. The whole plane is in utter chaos and desolation, people running about frantically in fear out of control. The red alarm beeps as the plane starts to fall, and the oxygen masks come crashing down.

Suddenly.. it all goes dark.

"You won't live"

"This isn't the end."

"You're one of us."

"You sense us."

"LIAR!"

"TRAITOR!"

"BURN HIM!"

These words and more terrifying sounds echo around like a mind maze, and suddenly all the activity on the plane ceases.

Utter and absolute silence where a drop of water if it falls can be heard.

Then like a group of well oiled machines, the people grin widely, their mouths gaping unnaturally jaw unhinged like a void of terror incarnate, and they grow abnormally large and suddenly charge.

°°°°

Kieran wakes up in a cold sweat, clutching the armrest of the airplane seat. Staring up at the clinical ceiling of the airplane cabin like it's the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. breathing fast and shaking.

"What was that.." *he muttered, panting. Sweating profusely, eyes widened and pupils dilated in absolute terror. Every inch of his body wracked with the excess dread and anxiety which now started to leave and exit in waves.

He found Johnathan, his mother and father staring down at him with worry and concern. His mother touched his forehead and said.

"These nightmares are becoming more frequent now aren't they..? You keep saying they are coincidental, love. But something like this cannot be happening at such a great frequency."

Johnathan leaned forward, holding up a bottle near his face.

Johnathan: "Drink, you need it."

Kieran shakily grabbed the bottle and took a hesitant sip, his mind still replaying that terrifying nightmare which somehow took place while he slept on an airplane seat, too.

Kieran has always had these night terrors even as a little kid back in London. His parents and Older Brother worked tirelessly to mend it, medicines were administered, therapy was done. But it never really seemed to get better as they would stop for about a month or two then return full force at sudden, abrupt intervals.

And that was not all, the earlier scenario where he saw a woman speaking to him, he always thought of it as his mind playing tricks on him because that's what his family convinced him. That's what every doctor he visited said, every therapist, every counselor, all said the same thing, "it's a nightmare, it will pass."

Nothing ever really helped, and the worst part is?

The older he gets, the more these "hallucinations" get stronger.

When he was around 7 he even had an imaginary "friend" he would talk to, play with and interact which nobody BUT him could see. His childlike innocence and intelligence sought it as normal.

But, to others and his family it was never really normal.

This was seen as a problem, a disease, a curse to be cured and mended.

But at any cause, really, it WAS never mended. Just suppressed and worsened.

And due to these reasons, he was often teased and bullied by his peers at school. Reprimanded for teachers who sought this behaviour as "hallucination" or "excuses" right under the sun.

But his little mind could never process what really was happening, how to fix it. And he would also see apparitions and terrifying figures which could only be described as headless or limbless entities. Causing him to randomly yell or have panic attack episodes if circumstances were extreme.

But luckily for Kieran, he was a boy of relatively stronger will than what he was credited for. So the older he got the more efficiently he could reign in his terrors and time his sightings.. But these weren't any permanent solutions, just temporary fixtures with no further remedy.

As of now, he drank water as his mother fussed over him. It felt embarrassing, really. Having a nightmare in the middle of a plane full of co-passengers who were turning back and staring at him like seeing an animal behind bars in a zoo; He felt like a factor of entertainment, a joke. He felt as though his nightmares and problems were invalid, a burden to others. Which often ate at his self-confidence and esteem.

Kieran's father spoke up and said "If it gets too worse, sit beside me or your mum, okay? i know the seating arrangement is a bloody disaster and you got the aisle seat and your nightmares get worse in these type of seats, so if you want you can sit between me and your mother, okay?"

He felt like a damn child, a delicate puppy being fussed over. Like he couldn't defend himself, like he couldn't take care of himself. He felt small, vulnerable and utterly useless.

"I'm fine." he said with farçe certainty. Because rejecting help would be better than defending his condition. He WAS broken, he knew.

But the universe was utterly mocking by proving it in such ways.

He was still dragged anyways, and made to sit down between his older brother and father. He felt like a baby. Which wasn't a pleasant feeling. But that feeling soon passed because food started to be served onboard

And there wasn't anything for Kieran Lockhart that food couldn't fix. If food was a person he would absolutely marry them. And he was sure many people agreed with him.

And then, peace returned.. for the meantime.

———————

The car pulled up into the Oaksville Lane; a quiet suburban neighbourhood on the outskirts of town where there were old, picturesque houses lining the streets, the roads were broads and angled and turned at right angles, and up ahead by the distant horizon the peak of the town's church could be seen with the big bell at the top and the grand clock. The town and neighbourhood looked almost like an oil painting come to life out of a master painter's canvas. And at the entrance of the neighborhood, stood an enormous gate, with impressive ironwork done across its bars and columns. And at the centre pedestal read the sign:

"Welcome to Hammer Springs!"

The family stared outside in awe, they thought London was beautiful, but this was something like a fairy tale; almost too good to be true.

The car stopped by the gate, and they were greeted by the man who sold them the house, Mr. Arnold Miller.

Mr. Miller was a man who looked to be in his mid 40's, with a head full of brunet hair whitening at its ends, he was wearing a brown shirt with cream pants and a checkered coat hung from his shoulders, glasses perched high above his sharp nose. His eyes were blue and intelligent; like he knew things most keen eyes couldn't catch.

Mr. Miller: "Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart! I was expecting your arrival, I hope you did not have a hard journey?"

Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart also known as Kieran and Jonathan's parents, Matthew Lockhart and Karina Lockhart, got out of the car and stood before Mr. Miller with a polite graceful smile.

Matthew: "The journey was long, yes, but hardly tiresome. Time flew by like a breeze up there!" he said while chuckling boisterously

Kieran and Johnathan shared a silent "he's going to do this everywhere, isn't he?" which somehow their mother caught on to their silent exchange and shot them a playful glare.

They followed the man through the gate and into the town square. Walking past the several houses that seemed like cottages or dollhouses, with succulents and plants hanging from the balconies. It was a friendly neighborhood, but..

Something felt off.

Like things were almost too perfect for comfort. Like it was almost a show put on for the many audiences that visited or inhibited these picturesque houses. The feeling didn't sit quite right with Kieran. It felt like a pit of his stomach fell as deep as an endless pit of darkness extending into nothingness.

Suddenly, Mr. Miller's voice broke him out of his trance.

Mr. Miller: "And this is your house. One of a kind, The last family had to move due to unforeseen reasons but that doesn't matter, this house was built around the early 20th century whesmall townlltown was a fully catholic state."

Kieran instantly knew something was off. Mr. Miller was way too smooth and calculative about the house's history and date of existence.. 20th century wasn't that far back but wasn't exactly brand new either, But by the looks of the house.. It seemed older than what was mentioned.

Kieran stepped forward, grazing his fingertips over the house's wall. It felt rough, coarse and almost flaky and worn out in texture. Like it had layers painted overtime. And for a house that is claimed to be built during the early 20th century seems quite roughed up.

Other than that, this was a decent house. And a relatively bigger one than the other houses in the neighborhood at that.

It almost looked like a Victorian house, with a huge slanting roof, candle white walls and high windows, with vines wrapping around the panes. And to top it all off the area was well furnished, like regularly maintained. With ample backyard and lawn. The place was picture-perfect.

They entered and started to settle in. Kieran and Johnathan parted ways at the entrance to find their own rooms.

Kieran took the one upstairs, taking his luggage, climbing the stairs.

A pretty spacious hallway.. Although, there was a gap in the ceiling.. wait!

An attic door! He needs to explore that later. but right now

He was tired. Like "need-to-down" kind of exhausted, so he entered his room.

a cream coloured, beige room, an open canvas for the boy.

And as he stood there, staring at his new room.. the open window which allowed the sunlight to enter like a gentle blanket of gold.

How the floor was brand new, unwalked, untouched. The walls yet to be painted. He realised..

This was a new beginning.

Suddenly.. the door behind him which he sure was open, closed.

And he knew.

this would be a new beginning, a new era, new mysteries to solve, and new paths to walk.

Back to Square One again.

exeunt ~

The sky darkened over the town. Every surface is inked with the sinister energy of something unknown, lurking, but omnipresent.

The crackling of fire, the air moist with oppression.

"BURN HER! DESTROY HER SIN!" yelled townsmen, advancing torch handed, mayor at tow, the priest, the wards and the counsel leading the townsmen..

Across the muddy floor, dragged the body of a woman screaming for mercy. The holy cross burned onto her back with great brutality.

She was raised onto a wooden dais, marked with a pivoted cross, and she was nailed to it. The town blacksmith doing the grotesque honor of nailing the crying woman's wrists to the arm stands, feet to the end of the wooden dais. Hung to be stared at like a blasphemous object.

The townspeople yelled and shouted, swinging their torches with ever-rising fire within their very soul.

"EVISCERATE HER!"

"BURN AWAY HER SINS!"

"A WITCH!!"

"BLASPHEMY!"

"WHORE!"

The woman, crowned the grace of a "witch", screamed in terror. crying and begging. Pleading innocence.

Yet her cries of pain and wails were shunned out by the uproar of the crowd until the Church's Pope silenced them. Stepping upon the pulpit.

"Nay, you vile whore, have sinned our people, served them your enchanted remedy in the form of a blessing? Claiming it was the lord's work? Magnificent How little it took for people to be cured, yet there lay a significant suspicion on your actions. how hath you procured such a magnificent anecdote? It must have been witchcraft! Treachery!"

"TREACHERY!"

"WITCHCRAFT!"

"SPOILER OF THE LORD'S NAME!"

The priest raised his hand calmly.

"Thou hath fouled the name of our lord by your tainted actions. Your body and soul will burn in eternal hell for your sins, you witch."

He said, opening the holy bible before him.

"Brother Andrew, go forth."

Brother Andrew, a tall man adorned by priestly attire stepped forward, a pine torch in hand and rosemary beads in the other.

"PLEASE I HAVE NOT SINNED! I BEG YOU FATHER! PLEASE! I WAS JUST TRYING TO ASSIST THOSE AILING!"

All her cries got drowned by the flames engulfing her, and she screamed in pain, agony and sorry as she was being burned at the stake. Blood spraying the scorching grass.

In the distance, the cathedral made of tinted glass glittered with the reflection of the rising embers of the pyre.

The clock strikes ONE.

The priest began to chant, his eyes closed.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, te damno, impia, sine gratia, et foeda creatura! Post discessum ex hoc corpore mortali, in profundissimas foveas, quas infernus probat, projicieris praebet Creatura damnans! progenies Satanae! filia Luciferi! PERE!"

He yelled through his chants, scattering holy water from his holy aspergillus.

The screams of the burning woman filled the air as she was burned alive, the smell of burning flesh and cruelty all molded and meshed into the air.

The common folk cheered and hollered, punching the air as the fire spread to enormous heights.

-----

Among the crowd. A man cloaked in black, only the eyes visible stood. A knowing smirk on his face underneath the veil.. suddenly.

As he turned, the hood of his cloak fell back just enough to reveal eyes that didn't just look—they searched. He stared straight ahead with such piercing clarity that it felt like a physical weight against the chest, as though his eyes beheld the secrets of the universe.

Then, in a low, conspirational voice, he said..

"Fair is Foul, Foul is Fair.

The dead writes it's own eulogy

The walls speak of it's residents of evil intent

The clock strikes one.

The trial has begun.

Sights unseen, words unheard The silence cries for a listener.

The boy who saved them all. Falls into a cage within his mind.

Every smile, every word. Purposeful, Meaningful. Truthful?

Fati sui dominus est. Mentis suae scriptor. Sed longe a salute."

And then everything dissipated into darkness.

--------------------------

Kieran woke up shaken, panting and covered in cold sweat, pupils dilated with terror.

His mind was spinning, his body felt like it was a different entity than his consciousness entirely. Every inch of his being felt as though it was doused in a pool of water and left to hang.

"Those words.. what were they?" he said aloud to himself. Not believing his own nightmare.

Great, just great. New house, new country and the nightmares just got worse.

He quickly got up and went to the attached washroom in his room to splash his face in water.

He turned the sink on, staring at the running water momentarily, his mind replaying back to that terrifying sight. And those words..

"Fair is Foul, Foul is Fair?"

He wondered, what could that mean? And why now all of a sudden?

He splashed his face with water a couple of times. Staring at his reflection in the mirror.

His reflection stared back at him. The image of a tired teenage boy, jet black scraggy hair, tired brown eyes and a lanky frame covered with his stupid blue pajamas.

Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he deserved all of these nightmares, these terrifying sights.

Maybe this was the universe telling him he wasn't worthy. A reminder of how miserable he actually is.

"HEY IDIOT! GET DOWN NOW YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR AGES WE HAVE CHURCH AND A TOWN TOUR TODAY! DAD ALREADY MADE BREAKFAST!"

Ah, great. Here comes Johnathan the saviour with his brotherly duties, and that god awful morning yell that wasn't new, he was forever a victim to Johnathan waking him up like it was a military hangar and he was a Sargent.

"I'M COMING! GIVE ME A SECOND!"

He yelled back, quickly wrapping up with his shower and brushing his teeth.

He walked out and went to his opened luggage inside his wardrobe, and rummaged through it to pull out his medicine box. And from inside it he pulled out his hallucination medication prescribed to him by a Psychiatrist. He has been taking this pill from ever since he was 8. Because that's when the nightmares got worse. And his whole world fell apart.

He stared down at the silver leaflet of the medicine on his palm.

'Trazodone IR' read the small lettering in red atop the packaging.

An immediate release medication for his nightmares and hallucinations. It worked when things got relatively rough.. But he mostly endured it until he couldn't anymore.

He popped the pill, swallowed some water and threw on a fresh pair of clothing and headed down where he noticed by the kitchen island and around the dining table his family was gathered.

His father, Matthew, was reading a newspaper.

His mother, Karina, was on her laptop as usual, busy at her work.

And his older brother, Johnathan, was focused on his phone, which, was quite useless, but Johnathan insisted it was for his 'modelling gig' or whatever.

"Good morning, everyone. What's for brekkie?"

"Look who decided to show up! the little prince! We greatly honour your presence which graces our humble dining hall your highness!" Said Johnathan sarcastically, earning a whack from an equally exasperated Kieran who sat down beside him and stole a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth

Matthew glanced up from his newspaper momentarily, smirking at the dynamic before saying

"So, Ki. How did you sleep?"

Their bickering momentarily halted as Kieran glanced at their father, his expression turning glum

"Good for the most part, but the nightmares aren't getting any better. I had this weird nightmare.. it was so disturbing, about a woman being burned at a stake.. people shouting.. but what disturbed me the most is-"

Before he could finish speaking, Karina cut him off.

"Honey, haven't you been taking your medication properly? you know how important those are Dr. Hart already told you to not miss even a moment when the nightmares and hallucinations get worse. It could be fatal."

Kieran's lips formed a thin line as his mind occupied a worrisome thought. She was right. this WAS risky, this could prove fatal.

"But Mom, you don't understand, this isn't something ordinary.. i saw a guy.. he was speaking latin.. something along the lines of 'Fati sui dominus est. Mentis suae scriptor. Sed longe a salute.'"

Johnathan chuckled "If only you, dear brother, put that much effort into yourself how you do in remembering your nightmares you'd be as popular as I am!"

Kieran gasped and turned to Matthew "I call objection your honour! client speaks falsely! He is a LOSER!"

Johnathan put his phone down while gasping in mock offense "YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU MIDGET!"

"AM NOT!"

"YES YOU ARE!"

"NO"

"YES"

"NO"

"YES!!"

"NO!"

"STOP!" intersected Karina, having had enough of their childishness.

"Something important was being discussed, you HAD to butt in, didn't you Johnny? You do understand how important it is for Kieran to share his problems? other kids of his age bottle everything up!"

"Yeah whatever mom, you're right. This nerd doesn't have a single bone in his body to do mischief. He's as fragile as a dandelion!" Said Johnathan mockingly wiggling

Kieran and Johnathan were now fist fighting.. Again.

This was everyday. This wasn't the Lockhart duo if they didn't constantly pit against eachother in EVERY. SMALL. MATTER.

Matthew suddenly got up

"Once you two finish with your little trifle. Me and your mother would be expecting your arrival outside in the car. it's already 9:15 and you both are still at it. Mr. Miller is waiting."

That shut them up and they quickly scarfed their food down, and the family headed out for the car.

...****************...

They drove around the town to reach the cathedral.

The town was a countryside type, similar houses differentiated by small plants and succulents here and there. And the town square was filled with people of all kind, And of course it was modern since it WAS an extension of the main city after all. His father had chosen this place to stay because his workplace was the nearest from there.

Children flocked the fountain space, their teachers enthusiastic as they taught them. Painters sat under trees painting. Street musicians played by the townsquare sitting area.

It was almost similar to London, but with a more country tinge to it. It was nice, he felt comfortable.

Then the car stopped before the cathedral and he noticed something odd..

A huge pedestal, of a priest most probably..

No..

No way.

That was the priest from his dreams, and..

the part of the cathedral where the statue is..

The one he saw in his dreams..

And then, a single iron rod embedded near a banyan tree beside the imposing statue. the holy cross on it.

The exact spot where the sacrifice in his dream happened.

......................

Johnathan noticed Kieran looking oddly pale, and shook his shoulder out of trance.. He followed Kieran's gaze to the statue.

And he froze. Because despite the bickering, he had paid attention to Kieran's words about his dream.

the location seemed eerily familiar.

He brushed the thought off as the family got off at the gate of the church, following Mr. Miller into the church.

The church interior was imposing, and the sheer grandeur of it all left them speechless.

especially Kieran, he looked awestruck. The place looked absolutely unreal. The pews a glamorous mahogany colour, the stained glass across the windows and the dome arch of the pulpit were painted in a classic Renaissance style. The pinnacle of mediaeval art and mythology portrayed through the handiwork on the walls. As they entered, prayer was already commencing. The voice of the pope and the harmonious church organ filled the church in a hauntingly beautiful symphony of notes.

As they walked in, they were greeted by the father of the church, two sisters and two warden brothers.

Mr. Miller smiled up at the father and introduced him.

Mr. Miller: "And this is Father Vincent MacReady, that is Sister Roseanne Maria, Sister Susanna, Brother Andrew and Brother Christopher. They are the representatives and the caretakers of this fine establishment! Father MacReady, these are the new residents of the Oaksville Lane, The Lockharts."

Father MacReady shook hands with Matthew and Karina, before moving onto Johnathan greeting him almost casually, before stopping onto Kieran and pausing, a shift in his demeanor.

Then he smiled.

"What is your name, son?"

Kieran was startled; clearly not used to being approached so directly. So he stammered out unceremoniously:

"Oh u-uh me? I'm Kieran.. Kieran Lockhart."

Father smiled, running a hand through Kieran's hair.

"My boy, you're powerful. Learn it well."

Kieran was disturbed by that. powerful? yeah right. he's about as imposing as an ant among elephants. The irony wasn't lost on him. But he still thanked him.

Yet.. something in the pit of his stomach told him, Father MacReady knew something he himself didn't have any idea of.

perhaps.. perhaps it could be about what he dreamed?

he immediately mentally slapped himself for having such an incredulous thought because who in their right minds can know what you dream of?

whatever. this was something he could sort later.

...****************...

The family settled into the remaining pews. The prayers resuming, but..

Kieran seemed to be lost in his own world. His mind kept replaying back to the priest's words.

"You're powerful. Learn it well."

Why did he say that? he could've easily picked Johnathan, he's taller, more well proportioned than him but why him?

He suddenly felt a sharp ringing in his ears. His vision starting to black out.

Then he felt it.

"Tell them. You know the truth. Tell them what you are.. the attic. The attic calls, she's there. Find her. Or she'll find YOU."

And his body gave out and he passed out right there on the pew.

...----------------...

to be continued..