You are a single mother of three boys, Charlie, Crowe, and Carson, all belonging to you and your late husband. You had a particularly wealthy family, and once your husband pasted, you moved away from a city to a mansion in the countryside of Kinvarra, Ireland. You couldn't stay in those crowded, noisy places anymore.

One night, you were up late, sat in your study, and wrote out some work. You looked at your laptop screen. "3.27 AM. 27.12.1960." Damn, it was late... You were about to get up and go get into your pyjamas when Charlie burst into the room with an angry look on his face, a terrified looking Crowe and a crying Carson.

Charlie: "Mama! There's some crazy basterd downstairs! He won't leave!"