1 A Loch In Winter

The stiff and frozen grass crunched under the heavy footfalls of his boots, his ears nipped from the chilling gales of the Scottish Highlands. He really shouldn't be here right now, his choice in footwear was evidence enough of that.

A stylish pair of black timberlands, not at all suited to the area Faeran was walking through. Yet, somehow, despite that, they were fitting. His parents after all would be livid that he took his Christmas present days early, and ruined them in just as many days. A pair of smart, fashionable boots that cost over a grand, more than a typical minimum wage job paid out in a month, were typically not made for traversing the lochs of Scotland after all.

The biting cold winds bit at his fingertips and made them sting something fierce, "Knew I should have bought a pair of gloves before I came up here," he huffed to himself as he made his way over the grass outside the back of his family's cottage.

Typical Scottish weather, he resisted the urge to snort at the thought. The fact it was the dead of winter and he was up here in the northern part of his home country, didn't help at all either.

"Least it isn't pissing of rain I suppose." Faeran rolled his eyes, small mercies and all that. It would just be what he needed right about now.

He could only hope.

After all, it was likely he was going to be spending his Christmas up here at good old Loch Ness, alone, where there was absolutely shit all to do.

Which was exactly the reason he was out here in the biting cold, rather than inside the cottage. With a fishing pole in one hand, and what else he needed in the other, he stepped up onto the wooden platform extending slightly over the rippling loch water and made his way to the edge, parking his arse down and began to set up his equipment.

He had no game consoles up here, the television only had basic channels and nothing at all good was on, his parents had cut off his phone contract so he couldn't browse the internet or even phone any of his friends for a chat.

So he had fuck all to occupy himself with up here.

Well, beyond fishing and…

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, grasping the bottle of Buckfast, the favourite alcoholic beverage of all Scottish teenagers, after casting his fishing line and unscrewed the cork, lifting the green glass bottle to his lips and taking a massive swig.

"Fucking arseholes," he cursed. Both his arsehole parents, and his cunt of a teacher. This was all his fault. If he knew this was going to happen, he would have made sure to do a lot more than break the twat's nose after he came on to his friend.

Seriously, he was the good guy in all this, that hippie ass music teacher was clearly a paedophile, always showing off for the girls in class, playing them love songs and showing off freaking pictures of him half naked and surfing in Hawaii and shit. His blatant leering and flirtations had scared his friend when he came on to her, so he warned him off and when he tried to give Faeran detention and send him away, he punched him square in the face and laid him flat out.

Yet that prick got off scot free, and it was he, Faeran himself that got suspended from school until February. Despite his friend coming to his defence, the headmaster had just waved it off as a lie.

And his parents hadn't cared for any of his reasoning or excuses and fucking kicked him out of the house.

Bloody typical honestly. All they cared about these days were their political careers, being part of the SNP - The Scottish National Party, and they went into a right tizzy at the thought of the 'damage' his actions could cause to their agenda if the story got out.

The Odhar family, despite the image presented to the public, weren't exactly close. He was less a son born into love, and more a tool for realising their ambitions and drawing in supporters.

Well, whatever, screw them!

He took another deep swig from his bottle of Bucky and leaned back on one hand to stare up at the night sky cast overhead, the uncountable twinkling stars looking down on him from above.

Loch Ness was a beautiful place, and made more so by the season of winter. Cold as it was, he was quite used to the weather and he found his gaze drifting to a curtain of brilliant, shimmering green light spreading through the dusky night skies, stretching off into the horizon over the huge loch.

It was an aurora. Few people knew that during the winter seasons, in the North of Scotland, it wasn't hard to see beautiful lights like these on clear nights.

He sighed, the tension leaving him bit by bit. The aurora had a way of doing that to him, calming him down and just making him lose himself in the sight. Despite the fact that he knew exactly how auroras came to be, having studied it as a child after first seeing them, there was just something about the sight that seemed so…mystical.

Magical even. Something deep inside him just made him believe that these lights were unnatural, beyond that even, supernatural. There was no rhyme or reason to it, he had no basis for the thought, or no proof, but there was just this odd sensation at his core, maybe his very instinct that told him –

These lights did not belong here.

"Heh," he laughed to himself a little bit, and took another deep drink. Already, despite his tolerance for alcohol, having been drinking it proper since he was but a wee little lad of twelve, he could feel his body heat up from the alcohol coursing through his system. The annoyed tension running rampant through him began to ease up.

It was such a silly thought, wasn't it? There was clearly nothing supernatural or mystical, or anything like that, about the aurora shimmering beautifully in the sky above him, but he just couldn't shake the feeling tha–

Something flittered rapidly in the corner of his eye and Faeran, despite his burgeoning tipsiness, jumped to his feet on instinct and whirled around, his hand going to his back pocket, preparing to grab the lockback knife he had stashed there.

One could never be too careful after all. Scotland was celebrated far and wide as the most beautiful country in the world due to its gorgeous lochs and vast, awe inspiring highlands, but at the same time, it was also a country that housed Glasgow, the murder capital of Europe.

It wasn't uncommon for even teenagers to draw knives and try and stab one another for a simple argument, or to act the 'hard-man' in front of some girls.

Yet … nothing.

Not a thing in sight, just a clear view over the gently rippling loch waters, being stirred by the biting cold winds of the chilly December night. The whistle of the breeze and the ringing tones of various insects that resounded throughout the air.

… What?

Was it just his eyes playing tricks on him? He wasn't that tipsy.

"Probably just my imagination," he told himself, releasing a shaky breath, most likely brought on by his wandering thoughts on the supernatural. For all that the loch was eerily empty of people right now, it was a generally safe space, with many eyes on it.

He should know, his parents were big advocates of it. A movement to protect Scotland's natural wonders and other nonsense like that to look good for the newspapers.

If something weird was going on, it would be caught quickly and dealt with.

Shaking his head, Faeran lifted his bottle of Buckfast to his lips one more time, took another swig and prepared to sit back down and relax, chill out and wait for some movement from his fishing rod.

But just as he turned back around and began bending his legs to lower himself down, something caught his eye.

The shimmering green of the aurora was … shining from the depths of the loch, right in front of him, at the edge of the platform he was stood upon.

For a moment, he thought it was just the water surface reflecting the gorgeous light from above. But no, just a simple look was enough to confirm that was not true.

It wouldn't be so bright if it was … and getting brighter?

Brighter and brighter it shone as he stared at it in a daze, no idea what was going on, until the very light itself began to emit from the lake and illuminate the area, casting the surroundings in a bright, luminescent green glow, himself included.

…This … this felt wrong. A pit formed in his stomach, and he found himself unconsciously stepping backwards.

He didn't know how, or why, but he just felt that something was coming. Adrenaline began to spike through his body, triggering his flight or fight instincts, and despite usually being one to challenge anything and anyone head on, Faeran gave in to the rare urge to follow his brain and turned on his heels and erupted into a sprint.

Just as he did, an ominous swirling sound, almost like a seething whirlpool, but a thousand times louder and a million times more threatening blotted out all other sound from his ear canals.

A massive, green shadow fell over him.

Faeran looked up on instinct and his eyes widened in horror as he saw a towering wave of bright, glowing green water rushing down towards him.

Instinct kicked in and he jumped, nay, launched himself into a leap to try and escape it, his body soaring impressively through the air as he tried with all his might to evade the flood roaring towards him–

It wasn't enough.

The wave swept over him with a strength he could not resist, slamming him into the ground hard, dazing him, stunning him, leaving him unable to put up even a token resistance.

And stopping him from holding his breath.

The glowing water rushed into his throat and he choked, unable to resist as the water began to pull back towards the loch, dragging him with it.

His lungs burned with agony, and his vision was consumed with green. A pure, brilliant, beautiful green.

His thoughts left him completely, the excruciating pain fading along with it, and everything drifted away. Everything that was, but that shining green light that seemed to sear itself into his very being.