Spellbound: Spawn of the Gods

Chapter One: Greeks verses Aliens

"But that's impossible! You can't be serious, Sir."

A handsome young man stood uneasily in a semi-darkened room, facing a large leather chair in which his mentor and supervisor was seated. The older man sighed heavily and passed a hand swiftly over his forehead. He looked as if a crushing burden had been placed onto his shoulders, and he was desperately trying to keep it balanced.

"I am completely serious, Caleb. Things have gotten far too dangerous for us to delay any longer. We need to bring the children in, and we need to bring them in now!"

"But with all due respect, Mr. Grant," Caleb protested. "we just aren't ready yet! We need more time."

A long silence ensued, during which Caleb could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. His supervisor was not a man to be crossed.

"Caleb," Mr. Grant finally began. "how long have you been a part of this program?"

"Ever since I was fourteen, Sir."

"Ah, yes. And what was one of the first things you learned during your training?"

"That...that," Caleb faltered a little, and slid his gaze to the ceiling. "our kind is never safe. We are always in danger. We have to fight just to stay alive."

Mr. Grant nodded. "Good, very good. We are always in danger. The sooner we bring these children in, the less danger they will be exposed to. If we don't act quickly, many of them will die. They are now perceived as a dangerous threat and will not be permitted to live for much longer. We can't let what happened to your sister and to so many others happen again."

Caleb grit his teeth and clenched his fists tightly. "I don't want to talk about Angela!"

"I know you don't Caleb." Mr Grant sighed and shook his head. "If your mother hadn't been so stubborn," He began muttering, almost to himself. "'keeping you safe' when what you needed was some real protection, Angela wouldn't have died." The matter of Angela Devine's death still weighed heavily on his mind, even after eight years had passed.

"It's my fault that she's dead." Caleb tried to keep his voice steady, but his emotions were overwhelming him. "I couldn't save her."

"No, no it's not your fault," Mr. Grant said gently. "You have to stop blaming yourself. Neither of you had any previous training, yet you both fought well. Still, it's nothing short of a miracle that you survived. You do realize that, I assume."

"Yes," Caleb answered quietly, tears sliding down his cheeks at the memory of his sister.

"Then I assume that now you realize how vital it is that we bring all the children here as soon as possible."

Caleb merely nodded, but that was enough for Mr. Grant.

"Good. Then we will start immediately!"

"Very well, Sir. I will inform the others and we will complete the work on the train."

"How long will it take before it is ready?"

"Another week I think, Sir."

Mr. Grant closed his eyes and sighed again. "I can only pray that we will be in time!"

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Pyte, Indiana was quite possibly the smallest town in the entire United States of America. If you were actually looking for it, you would need an insane amount of free time and an aerial map that literally gave you 100x zoom. With a population of only seven hundred and fifty (maybe a thousand, if you included all the pets), everybody knew everybody else through and though. Everyone knew that there was no one extraordinary in Pyte, because nothing extraordinary ever happened.