2- Salem
"He's doing it again!" spat Jeffery.
Kazuko glanced at the young boy, Eugene, and found that he was staring at the wall intently again. Smiling and gurgling at an invisible companion, as always. She ignored Jeffery's comment and took another gulp from the bottle in front of her, not bothering to justify her son's behaviour anymore. There was nothing left to say after all.
Eugene then turned to his brother, who was playing with a wooden block, and looked at him in deep concentration. Oliver stared back before the two of them fell into a heap of uncontrollable giggles. The twins were always like this, sharing silent thoughts and laughing.
"They're not normal," mumbled Jeffery. "What they are doing, it's not normal!"
Kazuko remained silent. He was right, the children's behaviour was strange to say the least. They were only babies, but there was something a little disconcerting about them: their intense stares, the indefinable aura around them, the way they seem to live in a world that was only their own…
"It's the land," Jeffery growled, "They have been warped by this cursed place!"
Jeffery had been born and raised in Salem, and thanks to the history of the city, everything remotely unordinary was frowned upon there. Their fear to see the past repeat itself had led the inhabitants to be superstitious beyond reason. Jeffery was no exception.
"These are not my sons," he said with unabashed hatred. "I don't know what or who they are, but they're not my sons!"
He stormed out of the house after these words, and Kazuko grabbed her bottle in retaliation. She could feel she was inexorably losing her husband. He was coming home less and less and the repugnance he showed towards the kids and herself was more evident each passing day. It was unfair, but he held her responsible for the situation. It wasn't her fault though. If anyone was guilty, it was those children! If only they hadn't been born...
The soothing liquid slid down her throat and she sighed contentedly. When she turned her glassy eyes toward her children once more, the loathing had subsided.