The Owls Who Watch

Chapter 3 - The Dream That Whispers

A restless nap was all Kevin could muster that night. The rage had been bottling up in the back of his mind for all these years but it was only now that the cracks were becoming apparent. He desperately wanted out of here yet he had nowhere to go. He wanted her dead but visualising that would only add to his decaying state of mind. Even if she did leave, he would still have his deadbeat father to contend with. His thoughts reformed into fantasies of escaping and beginning a new life somewhere far, far away.

He had it all planned. A quiet life with his lover, both nestled deeply in a stone cabin atop a mountain. He always fantasied about that life before he went to sleep at night, and sometimes when he would just lay in bed listening to music. It was all he wanted. A life, hidden away from the terrors of this one, in that little stone cabin with the brown door and its grey lion knocker engraved in the middle.

Kevin used to sit for hours on occult websites, ravings of manifestation and witchcraft. Their popularity had soared in the past few decades, replacing many of the Old Religions. Most people who practised believed they would attract money, power, and success through the New Religio. Kevin learned to filter this out. Unlike everyone in the Market these days, Kevin had no interest in wealth or power. His favourite of the many occult websites was called "Magick is Ecstatic". According to its teachings, if one desired something so badly – it would be delivered to them through some manipulation of fate should one alter their mindset.

Maybe, Kevin thought. Maybe fate can set me free.

His brief glimpse of hope was crushed by his cynical mind as quickly as it had entered. Just the desperate attempts to circumvent the dystopia we all live in. False hope won't do. He had been envisioning some hero to come and rescue him from this hellhole, and take him to the stone cottage in the forest for years, and what had it amounted in? Absolutely nothing. One day, he told himself.

If wishes and fantasies wouldn't suffice, he would need a direct plan to escape. Find the actors, create the events, gather the resources and be free, once and for all. This will be challenging, he realised, as he sat down at his barren, scratched-up desk and took out some paper from a drawer, and a pen from the holder and got to thinking.

Maybe he would find some homeless person and plot with them to run to one of those settlements... No, too risky. He had no friends, and certainly no family. The only social life Kevin had maintained was a homeless boy of his own age, but he had fled the city after some altercation with the law that Kevin was never interested enough to learn about. Anyway, he supposedly lived tens of miles away in some other city now. Could he help me? Run away and start a new life elsewhere?  The thought of the risks involved sickened him, but it could be worth it. He pulled out his phone and entered Starmail, scrolling down to find the old conversation. Isaiah was his name.

"I'm going to run away from this shithole. Is Dundee a good idea?"

With hesitation, Kevin pressed send. He hadn't been in contact with this guy for ages and his social media status had been inactive for almost two years. Nevertheless, the optimism energised him slightly. Perhaps he had turned his visibility setting off. Ten more minutes on my phone and I'll head to bed, Kevin promised himself.

Those ten minutes turned to twenty, which turned to thirty. All he did was read horror stories on his phone. Redirecting his fear of reality onto something fictional always proved a successful crutch.  When he got bored, he decided to search for homeless settlements in the country. After all, he could potentially be homeless if the plans go wrong. He started his search on the various national news sites which he typically avoided. The headlines were as grim as they always were, but Kevin's morbid curiosity kept him scrolling.