The Popes catacombs

As Oliver walked out of the principal's office, his conscience continued troubling him about the need to do something quick about this continuous werewolf attack. Despite the warnings repeatedly given to him by the principal to stay clear of the case, he was still fixated on finding out and exposing the culprit. The fact that he had seen visions not just once, but twice, predicting the attacks, made it seem more like a responsibility to him to finally put an end to the perturbing afflictions inflicted by the lycanthropic predator.   The need to stop the werewolf felt to him more like a compulsion than free will.

While descending the stairs on his way from the principal's office, a thought suddenly came to his mind. He just remembered that right before and after he and Olivia found the already attacked victim of the werewolf lying helplessly on the floor in that empty room, there was not a sign of Jasper, nor was there any knowledge of his whereabouts at the time. Even when the scene was crowded with other students and staff, Jasper's presence still wasn't noticed. He figured out that the reason why he hadn't thought of this then was because his mind was yet too busy trying to access the horrid sights it had just seen, and of course, the stunner of a question Olivia had asked him. 

He really wanted to go check out where Jasper was, but he just remembered that he also had to meet Olivia at the Pope's catacombs, as it was already evening. He was really curious to know what she had to tell him; how she managed to have found out about his psychic visions, and also, how he could possibly be of help to her. Besides all these, Oliver had quite a ton of questions to ask Olivia, most of which were based on her psychic profile, and how she found out about his best-kept secret. 

Oliver set out to meet Olivia at the location she had called; the Pope's catacombs. Oliver had never been to the catacombs before, but from the little he had heard about it, he could tell it was a place of strange solitude. 

The Pope's catacombs was situated at the base of the massive chapel building which sturdily stoot separately beyond the dormitory block. It was said to be an underground compartment of the chapel building in the form of a complex ancient tomb. No one went close to the catacombs entrance area, let alone, enter it, as some claimed to have detected ghostly movements within the place. 

Oliver wondered why Olivia had chosen the Pope's catacombs out of every other place in the orphanage, as where they should meet for their chat. 

Oliver finally arrived at the chapel. He marveled at the absolute tranquility that existed there, as he could now tell it was so far the most quiet place in the orphanage. There was also no sign of anyone around.

 Oliver proceeded behind the building where the entrance door to the catacombs was located. On getting there, he found the large wooden door. Engraved on the stone wall above the doorpost was a circle with a crucifix at its center, and beside the circle was a writing in Latin.

"Locus Quietis," Oliver read audibly.

"That's Latin for place of rest," he said, "I guess this should be the place."

The door was already open so he just let himself in. Inside was a long dark staircase that led down to the underground. The air there was choked up with dust and there were a series of cobwebs dangling over the stony walls and ceiling. Oliver gradually walked down the stairs till he got to the very bottom. It was a large hall with continuous arrays of stone coffins (sarcophaguses), well aligned in sizeable compartments along the walls. Each compartment housed a single sarcophagus, and on each was engraved a short memoir of the deceased. 

Oliver's gaze searched around thoroughly, there was no one in sight. 

"Hello!" he called out, his voice echoing through the dark. 

"Hello! Is anyone down here?"

There was no response, only the sound of his voice continuously reverberating from end to end. Suddenly, there came a low rustle from the shadows.

"Olivia?" he muttered curiously, moving slowly towards the direction the sound came from.

"Olivia, is that you?" he inquired, his voice slightly edging.

Suddenly, he heard another sound from a different corner, like that of crushed pebbles. He was starting to feel really uneasy at this point.

"Whoever you are just show yourself," he demanded, "I'm not playing games."

"Oliver Logan," a voice suddenly said. It sounded so close behind him. 

Slowly and methodically, Oliver turned around to see who had called him, only to see Olivia standing right there.

"Oh… It's just you," he muttered.

"I never thought you'd actually make it," she said, "most people are merely scared of encountering a phantom."

"What's there to fear?" he replied, "The dead have no doings with the living." 

"So… what were the not-so-creepy noises for?" he asked her, "Were they meant to scare me off or something?"

"Actually, the noise wasn't me," she replied, "definitely got to be the ghosts."

"Really?" muttered Oliver, gazing around thoughtfully.

"It gets really loud down here most times, mainly around midnight, I just try to ignore them," she explained. 

"Anyway, let's proceed with what we're here for," she said, "we have limited time."

"Sure, I… " Oliver muttered, but he got interrupted halfway.

"Before you can ask any question, I need to be sure you've agreed you're a psych," she told him.

Oliver sighed.

"To tell you the truth, I haven't ruled that part out yet, considering I've done a series of research about my family's history, and never have I come across any of my bygone relatives or ancestors that identified as psychics during their lifetimes," Oliver explained.

"Tell me about your visions," she requested, "when did they start manifesting?"

"They started about a year ago," Oliver explained, "I started having these really painful glimpses of both present and future events, unwillingly triggered by contact."

"At first I thought I might be losing my mind, but… when I saw these visions become reality in the future, I knew they were true," he explained.

"So… you said you're a psychic too, what do you do?" he asked her.

"Same thing with you," she answered, "; visions. Only that unlike you, instead of seeing the future, I see past events replay like I was there in person."

"Fascinating," muttered Oliver in astonishment. 

"How come you knew about my visions even though I've never mentioned it to anyone here?" he asked her.

"Actually, it was more of a lucky guess," she replied, " However, I'm a psychic too, plus I've been keeping close tabs on you ever since you arrived at Melrose."

"Any reason why?" questioned Oliver.

"Cause I happened to have discovered we have a lot in common," she replied.

"Enlighten me," he curiously said.

"All my life I've always felt this emptiness within like there was more I needed to know than I already had, more about my true origin. But when you came here I started having these strange connections, like the piece of a puzzle. I had never felt that way with anyone before so I became curious," she explained while leading him to an inner portion of the hall. 

Getting to a corner, she pulled a string by the wall and a yellow lightbulb came on, revealing a square-shaped wooden board with a series of pictures, sketches, and newspaper cutouts on it, all webbed to each other with rubber bands and masking tapes. Oliver's jaw dropped open in amazement as he saw this

"So… is here some sort of secret lair or something?" he muttered in startlement. 

"It's where I carry out all my secret investigations," she replied, "Everything I hold secret, I keep here."

"You're full of surprises," Oliver said to her.

"Smart choice of lair, though," he added.

As he was closely observing the contents of the board she had set up, he identified certain pictures that caught his attention.

"Wait a second, is that… That's my father there in the picture," he said, pointing at a certain sketched portrait on the board. "How do you have a drawing of him?" Oliver asked with curiosity in his eyes.