Wiccan Act One: Occult

14 | Bury Me With My Sins

Aiden

XIV

1 Hour Earlier

A sharp pain shot itself into Aiden's abdomen, waking him up immediately.

Instead of finding himself tucked into bed, however, he banged his forehead into something hard, kick starting an intense headache. While he tried to rub the damaged area, he realized he could barely move, his elbow banging against a wall.

His heart raced, drumming in his ears. Taking shallow breaths, he attempted to get as much air in as possible. His feet slammed into another wall, confirming his suspicions that someone boxed him in. Where the hell was he?

"HELP!!" He yelled, the words tearing his windpipe. Dust fell into his mouth, resulting in a coughing fit, barely able to move. Where ever he was had thin stale air, he could barely inhale.

This wasn't funny.

Who would do this to him?

Any attempts to remember how he got here only caused his headache to worsen, his memories blurring together into a thick fog.

All he had were questions. None of which he had answers to them.

Gunshots fired near him, images flashing within the inky black, the pain returning to his abdomen and sending air out of his lungs. People's screams tore through the fog, showing him a patch of grass splattered with red paint, the colours seeping into the ground and mixing into the mud.

A chill travelled along his skin, the blood travelling inside his veins freezing them shut. Something broke through the darkness, a bright light, followed by stars that illuminated his vision. He was no longer confined to a small space in the dark, but lying on grass under the dead of night. He heard voices whispering not too far in the distance but failed to make out what was being said. His eyelids grew heavier, the sweet seduction of sleep luring him into its clutches as his breathing slowed.

Why was he so tired all of a sudden?

He noticed the hand beyond him, it laid there lifeless. Beyond it, a once perfect wooden fence ruined by blood splatters.

Another gunshot threw him out of his mind and back to where he came from.

"HELP!" He screamed, fighting off the agony screaming caused. "SOMEONE LET ME OUT!"

The air tasted stale, filled with dust, and hard to breathe without coughing. His clothes struggled to cling to his skin, their cheap fabric and ready to tear at any moment. It felt like a suit, Aiden able to confirm he had on ankle length pants, long sleeves and a tie using his fingertips.

A hand took hold of his shoulder, clinging on with such force he barely had time to realise. He jumped, terror taking control of his nerves. Something else was in here with him. It burned at the touch, Aiden screaming from his searing skin. There was no fire, nor heat, only an unimaginable burning sensation that awoke something inside him.

Flames sparked, igniting the surrounding walls, their glowing light revealing where Aiden was; a coffin. A wooden box that trapped him on all sides with words carved into the top half haphazardly.

Per me et in terram fluent quod tuum est

That was all he could make out before the fire swelled, making quick work of his prison and consuming him whole. It disintegrated his clothes and the wood, leaving behind nothing but ash.

His hand broke out first, a gentle gust kissing the back of it. Next came his other hand, making a large enough hole for him to crawl out of earthworm style. More images forced their way into his mind. They barraged him, flashing too quickly for Aiden to make any of them out. He tried to make them stop, slapping himself continuously. His legs were numb, tiny shocks showing they, unlike him, hadn't awoken yet. Everything felt that way, none of his body parts wanting to listen.