The only word that possessed the ability to describe life here in Clearwater Springs, Colorado was quiet. There were no large social gatherings, no block parties, no parades, none of the normal small-town tidbits of fun either. To "have fun" like that, you would have to travel an hour down the mountain to the town of Alabain. There, small carnivals with roll-away rides and games were placed once a month. There were arcade games, pizza party parlours, ice cream shops, et cetera. Anything to make a person of any age enjoy themselves for a day. The town seemed large enough to not notice a passerby, but suprisingly you could not get through a day in Alabain without being asked where you were from. If you were to meet a person in Alabain and be asked where you lived, you would be met with a look of utter confusion and "Clearwater Springs? Where's that?" To which you would simply reply with: " Up north a ways," before going back to minding your own business. People from Clearwater Springs don't care to interact with others much. I guess you could say it's because we are different from the others, in a way. We see things, creatures even, that normal people can't. We call these cretures "Myiths" Spirits, demons, nymphs, you name a mythical creature and one of us can probably see it. Like me. I can see demons, angels, and morphshapes, a broad category of people who shift into animal forms. I see portals that Myiths enter our reality through. In everyday life, normal people walk past these portals, but I can see them as clear as day. Not to mention the fact that they're so obvious from the sheer amount of Myiths surrounding them.
No one knew about our little town filled with special people, and that was good enough for us. We didn't need anyone distirbing the peace, after all. Until one day...someone, a newcomer of all things, saw a resident sparring with a demon whom had lost control and shifted into its true form. The idiot caught it on camera and posted it on Youtube. The video spread, people swarmed the town, and we were forced into hiding. They called us witches and warlocks, caught our residents, hanged them grusomely for all to see in the village square. Then a group poured gasoline around town, on houses and trees, and on enslaved townspeople. They lit a match and ran for their cars before speeding off, leaving the town to be engulfed by the flames.
