Ascent of the Gods

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by *Kimber03 (01), Dec 20, 2010.

  1. Chapter 1: Match Up
                “Come on Delta!” the coach yelled above the roaring of the audience. “We didn’t name you captain for nothing!”
                Delta focused on his opponent, everything else blocked out. His opponent charged at him and Delta did the exact same, except he ran with twice the strength and twice the speed. His opponent fell to the ground under him and in less than twenty seconds his opponent was begging for mercy. The audience roared louder with every victory Delta achieved. He never even broke a sweat.
                “Good job man,” Patrick said encouragingly, tossing him a bottle of water. Accepting it graciously, Delta chugged down half of the bottle, tossed it back to Patrick and ran swiftly back to the mat, awaiting his next opponent.
                “Go Delta!” a sweet, melodic voice called from the audience. Delta looked up and saw Cyndia who was waving and smiling at him. Delta couldn’t help but smile back and in that time of space he became completely distracted. He hadn’t even heard the name of his next opponent.
                “Wrestle!” the referee yelled as he backed away to let the match begin. Delta looked around for a moment, Cyndia’s face still imprinted in his mind. Who am I suppose to beat up? He thought confused as he continued to look around.
                A moment later his feet gave way beneath him and he was in a headlock. Trying to release himself from his opponents grasp, a sudden poke around his jaw line caused him immense pain and the match was over.
                Delta fell to the mat, his opponent’s foot directly on his back. He twisted his head up and saw the face of Elaine smiling smugly down at him.
                “That was a foul,” he mumbled. “You totally cheated.”
                Elaine helped him up and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s called winning tough guy.” As if on cue, the bell for lunch rang loudly and everyone in the audience filed out of the gym.
                Elaine walked away from the mat, picking up a duffel bag as she went and Cyndia followed soon after.
                “Hey Elaine!” Delta called out before she could leave the gym. “I call a rematch.”
                Elaine smiled slyly and continued walking with Cyndia by her shoulder. “No promises,” she replied as the two girls walked out.
                “Aw Delta,” Patrick said as he began to collect his swimming gear in his arms. “All my money was on you. You cost me my lunch money. So much for your perfect record.”
                Delta led the way to the wash rooms and entered a stall. “Don’t worry Gills; I’ll buy you a lunch.”
                Patrick snorted. “Numero one, don’t call me Gills. Numero two, that’s what you said last time and I ended up eating a sandwich from a trashcan for lunch.”
                Delta quickly rinsed off all the grime he had collected on the mat and walked out, putting on a black t-shirt as he went. “Okay fine, if you don’t trust me then ask Hector.”
                “Ask me what?” Hector said as he appeared from around a corner, his hair freshly washed.
                Patrick fell prostrate to his knees and began to do a strange worshipping dance. “Please mighty football god,” he said, “it would do me great honor if you buy me a lunch.” Patrick glared at Delta. “Preferably not from a trashcan.”
                Hector raised an eyebrow and led the way out of the washrooms. “I’m not sure how me buying you a lunch would do you honor, but I do appreciate the whole football god thing.”
                “Is that a yes then?” Patrick said hopefully. When neither Delta nor Hector bothered to respond he began to make a puppy dog face and hop up and down like a rabbit.
                “Okay, okay,” Hector quickly said, shielding his eyes. “Just stop with the face. It’s just creepy.” 
                Patrick straightened up and smiled. “Works every time.”
                The trio walked out of the gym, the bright noon sun shining in their faces.
                “Where are our girl companions?” Hector asked, looking out at the high school campus.
                Patrick smiled playfully. “Aw Hector. Looking for your BFF!” Delta coughed loudly as he tried to stifle a laugh.
                Hector rolled his eyes. “LOL Patrick. And she’s not my BFF. And how do you know I’m even looking for her? I could be looking for Cyndia or Elaine or−”
                Delta held up a hand to silence him. “Dude, we all know you and Lorie are together.”
                Hector opened his mouth to say something scornful, but nothing came out. Instead he sighed in defeat. “Do you know where they are?”
                Patrick rubbed his chin as if he were thinking. “We could try the fountain out front. Or maybe, possibly the locker rooms.”
                Hector shrugged. “Worth a shot I suppose. Delta comes with me. Patrick you can check the lockers and−” but as he looked, he saw Patrick already running towards the general direction of the lockers.    
                Both Hector and Delta shrugged as they walked briskly to the fountain. Patrick sprinted faster, giddy with excitement.
     
     
  2. Continue....>.>
     
  3. Chapter 2: Smitten and Hittin      
    Elaine demonstrated a few wrestling moves on Cyndia that she would try on Delta if they ever got to that rematch. Miraculously Cyndia outsmarted every move, much to Elaine’s dismay. She prayed Delta would be distracted during the match if she were to win.
    “Elaine! Cyndia! Wait up!” someone called from behind them. The two girls knew they didn’t need to slow their pace down. Pretty soon Selene was squeezing in between them and joining in on the conversation.
                “Hi!” Selene said happily, brushing away a lock of her strange white hair. They passed a beam of sunlight and Selene lit up like a Christmas tree.
                “Selene, can you consider not wearing so much white?” Elaine complained shielding her eyes from the glow her pure white clothes were producing.
                Shrugging Selene veered off into a shadowy part of the halls and brushed off her now wrinkled shirt. The reflection the color was producing was nothing more than a memory now.
                “Better?” Selene asked, smiling at them from her spot in the shadows.
                Elaine nodded. “Much.
                “Where are we going anyways?” Selene asked, her hands trifling through her book bag that was slung over her shoulder.
                “Locker rooms. We need to get ready for the next period,” Cyndia replied, her hands stuffed into her pockets.
                “I see,” Selene said absently, finally finding the papers she was looking for in her bag. “Look at this!” she said with renewed excitement.
                Both Elaine and Cyndia leaned over to look at the paper she was waving in their faces. It read: The Hunter’s Season will have its first official meeting this Monday after school. Please report to Selene Hunter for further detail.
                “It’s finally an official club!” Selene exclaimed stuffing the paper back into her bag. “It’s going to be fantastic!” she continued without waiting for a response. “There will be bows and arrows, animal furs, guns, and−” Before she could continue a figure ran straight into her, almost knocking her down.
                “Conrad!” Selene yelled.
                “Sorry sis!” her brother yelled as he sped past her. He was lugging around a violin case as he went.
                Selene smiled politely at Elaine and Cyndia. “Excuse me for a moment while I kill my brother.” She ran off after him without waiting for a response again.
                Cyndia sighed as Elaine continued to follow her to the locker rooms. “As much as I love Selene as one of our besties,” she said, “she can be a bit odd at times.”
                Elaine nodded in response as they made it to the doorway at the locker room. “She is odd,” Elaine said as she walked down the maze way of lockers, “but she’s still a friend. And I don’t hurt friends no matter what−” she stopped halfway through her sentence and yelled a surprisingly loud scream.
                “What’s the matter?” Cyndia asked, pushing past Elaine. She knew what she had screamed at.
                Patrick stood over a girl who Cyndia thought was named Peggy. Peggy’s hair was naturally messy and always in tangled curls. That wasn’t the horrific part though. Peggy had her arms around Patrick’s waist and Patrick stood, his lips hovering centimeter’s above Peggy’s.
                Elaine stood mouth wide open. “My locker,” she whimpered. “You…you… Pathetic excuses for human beings! You were making out on my locker!”
                Patrick suddenly stood up right and turned to run. Instinctively Cyndia ran after him yelling, “Get back here Patrick Sanders! You are so dead!”
                Peggy and Elaine were left.
                Peggy brushed herself off, ran her fingers through her hair, and reapplied a thick layer of lipstick. “Listen girly,” she said, “I don’t want to cause any trouble here so just lead me out of here and−”
                Elaine quickly ended her statement with a quick punch to her mouth. Peggy’s hand reached to her mouth and she shrieked in pain. “My tooth!” she bellowed. “You idiot broke my tooth.” Elaine wasn’t done though. Using the right amount of force, swing, and momentum Elaine swung her right leg around and felt the toe of her shoe connect with Peggy’s eye.
                “How dare you disrespect my property,” Elaine growled.
                Peggy straightened herself and put her right hand over her mouth and the other hand over her now blackened eye. “You will regret this Elaine Heathers,” Peggy mumbled around her hand as she pushed past Elaine and out of the locker rooms.
                Just as Elaine was going to leave to find a match and kerosene to burn her locker Cyndia came in dragging Patrick by his ankles on the cement floor. “Where do you want him?” she asked.
     
  4. Chapter 3: Flowers and Footballs
    “And this one is an iris,” Sandra said as she stroked the purple leaves of the flower she defined as an iris.
    Lorie strangled back a sigh. “Interesting,” she said absently as she dipped her fingers delicately into the fountain that stood proudly in front of the high school.
    “It truly is interesting,” Sandra said, putting the purple flower aside. “You know,” she continued, “the iris is also named after a part of your eye.”
    Lorie nodded, not engaged in the conversation one bit, and began to fix a section of her hair into a braid.
    “Yup. The iris is the colored part of your eye,” she continued pointing to her emerald green eyes.
    “That’s nice,” Lorie responded as she pulled out a small mirror. Her pale green eyes stared back at her. Her makeup seemed to be close to perfection and she allowed a bit of a smile to pass on her lips.
    “I also know another thing the iris is named after,” Sandra rambled as she fingered a friendship bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet was woven with six colors.
    Lorie finally sighed in exasperation. “And what is another name the iris is named after?” she asked, hoping to end this boring conversation.
    Sandra disregarded the sigh and smiled happily. “Iris. The goddess of the rainbows.” Sandra stopped fingering her bracelet and tended to the other three flowers that sat in pots behind her.
    Lorie raised an eyebrow, finally interested in one thing Sandra had said. She opened her mouth to ask something but quickly clamped it shut as she saw Hector and Delta approaching. Sandra was too busy tending to a dandelion to answer her dwindling question anyways.
    Hector allowed a breath of relief escape his lips as he accepted the embrace Lorie gave him. “Hi Lorie,” he whispered as he examined a braid she had fixed into her blonde locks. It was tied with her blue, green, and purple highlights.
    Lorie smiled brightly into Hector’s face and opened her mouth to say something, but closed her mouth shut again and frowned. Hector frowned too, self consciously rearranging his dark colored hair. Delta tapped his shoulder and gestured him to turn around and did so.
    “You certainly don’t see that every day,” Delta said. Although the situation didn’t look good it seemed he was trying to suppress a smile.
    “Let go of me!” Patrick wailed loudly as he was dragged to the fountain by Cyndia and Elaine. Cyndia had Patrick’s arms behind his back and Elaine had two of her fingers around Patrick’s neck. “Let go!” Patrick begged again. “I’ll do anything! I’ll break up with Peggy if you want!” Elaine leaned down and whispered something into Patrick’s ear. He immediately shut up.
    Curious, Hector walked up to the trio with Lorie flanking his shoulder, the same curiosity etched into her face.
    “As amusing as this is,” Hector said, suppressing a smile which Delta had tried to suppress, “Maybe you should let go.” Shrugging, Cyndia released her grip on Patrick’s wrist. Elaine hesitated for a moment, her fingers still hovering around his neck. Sighing, she eventually pulled her fingers away.
    “Freedom!” Patrick yelled, shooting his hands up in the air. Everyone stood staring at each other, waiting for an explanation. In a flash, Patrick bolted away, running away to safety.
    “Don’t let him get away!” Elaine yelled in an embarrassingly loud squeal. She suddenly looked around frantically, trying to find something to throw.
    Delta shrugged and grabbed a football out of a sophomore’s hand. “Not cool dude!” the sophomore exclaimed, but continued walking on anyways. Delta took the football in his hand and stood in a throwing position. Hector tapped his shoulder before he threw.
    “May I do the honors?” Hector asked, holding out his hand.
    Delta flashed a smile. “It’s all you Daniels.”
    In a flash, Hector snatched the football away from Delta, got into a throwing position, and with a mighty heft of his throwing arm, they all saw the football sail into the sky.
    Sandra looked up doubtfully. “You think it will hit him?” As if on cue, the football came down from its spot in the sky and landed square on Patrick’s head as he tried to run for cover.
    Hector nodded approvingly. “Yes Sandra. Yes, I do think it will hit him”

     
  5. Chapter 4: Slide Whistle Blues
    Sandra, Elaine, Cyndia, Hector, Lorie, and Delta sprinted over to where Patrick lay on the grass, face down. Delta was the first to arrive followed by Hector. Once everyone had made it to the scene, Delta kicked Patrick in the foot. After a few seconds Delta made a tsk noise three times.
    “Frankly Hector,” Delta said, kicking Patrick again, “I honestly think you killed him.”
    Hector shook his head in fake sympathy. “It’s a shame too. He had so much to live for.” Patrick still didn’t move. “So Delta, what do you think we should do with all his gold medals?” he asked as if the question was nagging at him all day.
    Delta smiled and immediately played along. “You mean all his swimming medals?” Patrick twitched slightly. Hector nodded in response.
    Elaine smiled devilishly and ruffled up her pixie cut hair style a bit. “Personally, I think we should melt them all down. You know, as compensation for his friend.”
    Patrick abruptly got into a push up position and scrambled to his feet. “No! You can take away my lunch money, or my autograph of Michael Phelps, or my monkey slippers, but you will not take away my medals!”
    Cyndia snickered. “You have monkey slippers?” Everyone began to laugh as Patrick’s face turned cherry red.
    “Erm… No…” he tried unconvincingly. Elaine rolled her eyes as she strode away, Cyndia following after her, only looking over her shoulder occasionally. Shrugging Patrick began to walk away, only interrupted by Delta.
    In a mighty grip, Delta lifted Patrick off the ground and started running towards Elaine and Cyndia. Everyone else trailed behind them.
    “Delta! What the heck? Let go!” Patrick yelled as he squirmed in his grip. Delta caught up to Elaine and Cyndia, the others a few seconds behind. “Let go you big…bull!” Patrick yelled again, this time kicking defiantly. Elaine raised an eyebrow and Cyndia stood silently with her arms crossed. “Let go!” Patrick yelled once more. Delta gave a long sigh and finally dropped Patrick to the ground.
    “Really what the heck is going on?” Hector asked, obviously lost.
    “Conrad! Get back you here you buffoon!” they heard Selene yell over their confusion.
    “I said I’m sorry!” Conrad pleaded. Overall, he was a pretty fast runner, but he constantly tripped over the violin case he was lugging around. I should’ve brought my harmonica, he thought frantically as he finally lugged the case over his shoulders.
    Selene was gaining on him quickly. She leaped over anything that came her way. “Conrad!” she raged.
    “Help me!” he yelled as he waved a free hand in the air frantically. Delta smiled mischievously and held out his leg which Conrad immediately tripped over. “Not cool!” he said as he spat out a mouthful of dirt and grass.
    Selene gave a little shriek as she fell on top of her brother.
    “Ouch,” they said simultaneously.
    Hector opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to map out what to say. “Okay…” he finally decided on, “Now that we’re all here and no further interruptions will be made−”
    “Hey guys!” another voice said from behind the group that was forming. Terrance wheeled himself over to them, his shattered leg sticking horizontally up in the air.
    “Good grief,” Hector murmured.
    “What’s shaking?” Terrance asked as he wheeled himself to a stop. “Hey Cyndia,” he continued abruptly, “looking as beautiful as ever.”
    Cyndia opened her mouth to say something scornful to him, but stopped as another member of their group came sprinting towards them.
    “Hey peeps!” Rory exclaimed, smiling the crooked smile of his. “Look what the vice principal gave me because I was such a good angel at the Lost and Found.” He produced a slide whistle from the various pockets of his cargo pants and began to play an annoying tune of the Pink Panther.
    Hector’s mouth twitched as his fists clenched open and close. “Now that we’re all here, what the heck is going on? Why was Patrick dragged here in the first place?”
    “Oh… is this about the whole thing about Patrick and Peggy making out?” Conrad asked.
    Elaine turned at him sharply. “How would you know that? You weren’t even there!”
    Conrad cocked his head slightly in a confused manor. “I, um, just knew I guess. Actually, I thought all of you guys knew.”
    “Okay, wait! From the beginning! What the heck is going on?” Hector asked once more.
    “Personally Mr. Daniels, I believe that I have the authority to ask the questions here,” an icy voice said behind them.
    The whole group turned and stared at Mr. Ketchfield. He stared back at them. Sandra shuddered. Rory blew into his slide whistle and played a tune that sounded as if something were sinking or falling.
    “That’s certainly enough Mr. Tract,” Mr. Ketchfield said as he diligently took the slide whistle from Rory’s grasp. Rory opened his mouth to argue, thought better of it, and shut his mouth.
    “Now, what’s the issue here?” Mr. Ketchfield asked, tucking the slide whistle into his coat pocket.
    Cyndia immediately spoke up. “Elaine and I saw Patrick making out with Peggy in the locker rooms.”
    Elaine nodded disdainfully. “It was my locker too.”
    Mr. Ketchfield’s eyes lit up as if he had made a new discovery. It was only for a moment until he nodded his head. “That’s unfortunate news Ms. Heathers.”
    Elaine snorted. “I know.”
    Mr. Ketchfield brushed off his startling red tie, brushed off invisible lint from his dark black suit, adjusted a few rings on his fingers, and patted a peculiar looking key on his belt loop. “Well I must be off,” he said simply as he strode quickly, yet gracefully off.
    Elaine stood with her mouth open. “Aren’t you going to give Patrick a detention, or cremate my locker, or at least hit him!” she called after him.
    The bell for lunch rang loudly as everyone started to scatter. Cyndia put a hand on Elaine’s arm and Lorie gently closed her gaping mouth.
    Hector shook his head as if disappointed. He took Lorie’s arm and motioned to them to head over to the picnic tables. “Time for lunch everyone.”

     
  6. Chapter 5: The Domino Effect
    Patrick followed Hector and Delta to the cafeteria where the food was served.
    “But you said you’d buy me a lunch!” Patrick whined as they passed the macaroni with bacon bits, one of Patrick’s favorite dishes.
    “Then give me answers,” Hector replied absently as he picked through a basket of fruit.
    Patrick turned his puppy dog face into a frown. “Honestly, I have no idea why I even made out with Peggy.” He scowled. “I mean, its Peggy. With her ratty hair and all.”
    Delta stared at him for a moment and turned away, picking up a Coke as he went. “Then why’d you even do that in the locker rooms?”
    Patrick opened his mouth to reply, and closed it again, scratching his head uneasily. “I really have no clue.”
    Hector shook his head and sighed. He led them out of the cafeteria and towards the picnic tables where the rest were seated. “Then tell me,” Hector said, eager to get one straight answer, “how Conrad knew you made out with Peggy?”
    Patrick shrugged. “No clue. I didn’t even think he was in the area at the time. That kid is weird though. Maybe he’s psychic…or something.”
    Hector burrowed his brow in frustration as they arrived at the tables. Hector sat next to Lorie and Delta sat in between Cyndia and Terrance. Patrick circled the table like a vulture, hoping to snag a few bites of food.
    “What did we miss while we were gone?” Hector asked as he bit into an apple he had picked out of the fruit basket.
    Lorie shook her head. “You didn’t miss anything really. We didn’t talk much.” Hector nodded in response and they ate in silence.
    Patrick came up behind Hector tapped his shoulder and waited till he turned around. He got down on both knees and folded his hands together as if he were praying. “Please football god!” Patrick begged, “Just buy me a lunch!” Hector didn’t budge. “I don’t care if it’s just a sandwich! But please I’m starving!”
    Hector opened his mouth to say something but closed it and tilted his head slightly. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing behind Patrick.
    Patrick raised an eyebrow and turned to look. His eyes widened first in surprise, he scratched his head in confusion, and finally narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “That my football god,” he said evenly, “is my little sister. Rochelle Sanders.”
    Rochelle was no older than the age of five, although she looked old for her age. Her glossy blonde hair was tied in pig tails on the sides of her head and her turquoise colored eyes were wide and innocent as she stared at her big brother.
    Patrick stifled a sigh and opened up his arms to his little sister. His sister didn’t budge. “Why are you here Rochelle?” Patrick asked.
    Rochelle played with her hair for awhile before answering. “Mommy went to work and made me come here.”
    Lorie smiled. “Aw Patrick she’s cuter than I remembered!”
    Hector made Lorie turn towards him. “You know her?” he asked.
    Lorie nodded. “I use to baby sit her when I was younger,” she replied. Rochelle still didn’t budge from her spot.
    Cyndia shook her head in disbelief. “Patrick, you’re mom dropped off your little sister here. Didn’t she know you were still in school?”
    Patrick stood awkwardly in his spot. “My mom is a bit of a scatter brain if I do say so myself. Maybe she thought I had swimming practice so she dropped Rochelle here to watch.”
    Rochelle’s eyes lit up. “Are we going swimming Patrick?” only her Patrick sounded like Patwick.
    Patrick sighed. “She really loves swimming, although she tries too much to get herself drowned in the big kid’s pool,” he said glaring at her younger sister. Rochelle glared back with the same ferocity.
    “So…” Cyndia said, taking a swig from a canteen of lemonade before continuing, “What do we do with her?”
    “I guess I could let her tag along with me,” Patrick said still not taking his eyes off his sister. They were now competing in a fierce staring contest. “The teachers would probably be peeved off though.” Rochelle abruptly waved her hand before Patrick’s face, and thus the staring contest was over.
    “I’ve got an idea!” Lorie exclaimed when Patrick had straightened up. Everyone looked at her expectantly and she cleared her throat as if giving a formal speech. “There’s a daycare about a block down from here. I help out there a lot so I’m sure they’ll let me slip Rochelle in.” she glanced at the wrist watch she wore and nodded in approval. “It’s not too far, I could walk her there and come right back.
    “Lorie I don’t find that’s the best idea,” Hector said.
    Lorie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Hector I love you and all that romance junk, but you’re way too protective.”
    “There’s a really creepy guy who lives on the sidewalk you’re about to walk on with a five-year-old.” Lorie didn’t budge at Hector’s warning. “He’s got a beard and sleeps on a tiger skin.” Hector paused for a dramatic effect. “Honestly, I think he stole the skin. Plus he’s always drunk.” He looked at Lorie and her gaze suddenly became uncertain. “Do you really want to face that?”
    “Dike isn’t so bad,” Conrad said and took a bite out of a banana.
    Hector looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Conrad you don’t even live on my street where that homeless dude lives. How do you even know his name, if that is his name?”
    Conrad frowned. “I thought you knew too. I mean he’s already introduced himself to Lorie.”
    Lorie looked at him startled. “Conrad you’ve gone insane. I haven’t even known the dude existed until now.”
    Patrick snorted as he snagged a morsel of food from Delta’s lunch box. “I told you Conrad is psychic.”
    “Patrick I saw that,” Delta said, swiping away the bit of food from Patrick before he could eat it.
    “Saw what?” Patrick asked innocently as he crossed over to Rory. He reached out from behind and tried to snag a cookie from his brown bag before a hand caught his wrist.
    “Patrick you know nothing about stealing stuff,” Rory said matter-of-factly as he took a bite out of the cookie Patrick was going to steal. “First thing you must know about stealing young grasshopper,” Rory said in a terrible Japanese accent, “The innocent act doesn’t work in this century.”
    “Shut up Rory,” Patrick said giving him a playful shove.
    It was the domino effect from there. Taken by surprise, Rory bumped into Conrad who in turn collided with his sister. Selene flicked her brother in the head and Conrad swatted her hand away. Selene’s hand bumped into Terrance’s steady hands as he worked on a metal contraption. The pieces went rolling over the table, particularly in Sandra’s salad. In disgust, Sandra pushed the salad away with a rather strong push and the salad collided with Elaine’s open paint tubes, splattering paint all over Elaine, Delta, Cyndia, and Terrance. Frantically, Cyndia tried to find something to wipe herself with, and the nearest thing was Hector’s shirt. Hector jumped back in surprise and his flailing arms wacked into to Patrick’s face. And that was the end of the effect.
    “Well, that was interesting,” Elaine said after a few seconds of silence.
    “You’re telling me,” Delta mumbled, fingering the splatters of paint on his skin.
    Sandra looked around for a moment, trying to find something. “Has anyone seen Rochelle or Lorie?”
    No one needed to reply to that. They all knew where the two went.
     
  7. Chapter 6: A Meeting with Dike
    Lorie bailed when a drop of paint splattered onto her spotless white blouse. She walked quickly towards Rochelle and kneeled down next to her so she was level with the five-year-old.
    “Rochelle,” Lorie said in the sweetest voice she could conjure, “How bout I walk you over to that daycare now?” When she didn’t respond Lorie tried again, letting a bit of urgency slip into her voice. “Rochelle please don’t make things harder than it is. We don’t have much time.” This time she nodded and Lorie led her away right after Patrick got whacked in the face by Hector. This made both of the girls smile.

    “Well come on let’s go,” Hector said as he stood up from the table. “Lorie’s brave and everything but I bet even she would be freaked out by that Dike person.” He casted a glance at Conrad who stared into space.
    “Hector,” Elaine said, “We’ll never make it to her before the bell rings.” She tightly screwed the caps onto her paint tubes until she was satisfied. “And Lorie is a smart girl; she’ll be fine on her own.”
    Conrad snorted. “Don’t count on that Elaine. Hector’s going to go after her anyway.”
    Elaine glared at him. “No he−” she looked around for a moment, her face a mask of confusion. “Where’d Hector go?”
    “told ya’,” Conrad muttered, biting into a piece of jerky.
    Patrick squeezed himself in-between Conrad and Selene, holding his nose tightly with two fingers to ease the pain from Hector's hit. “See,” he said in a nasally voice, “Conrad is psychic.” With his other hand, he snaked his arm around Conrad and snagged a stick of jerky, smiling with victory he extracted himself from the siblings and continued to walk around like a vulture.
    “I’m pretty sure that’s not the point here,” Elaine said. Sighing in exasperation she stood from the table and walked away. “I’m going to go and find them. Hopefully they’re not too far out yet.”
    Cyndia stood up, scratched away some paint from her face and went to join Elaine. Shrugging, Terrance wheeled himself towards the two and Delta followed after. After a moment’s hesitation from the others, the rest of the table got up and followed.

    A block away was the daycare. This was simple enough.
    “Water!” Rochelle shrieked as she ran up to the fountain and dipped her hand in. Lorie watched her for a few minutes, smiling in amusement until Rochelle tried to actually play in the fountain.
    “Let’s go Rochelle,” Lorie said gently, extracting her from the fountain and leading her away towards the high school grounds. They were on the side walk and the daycare was as plain as day just across the street. Risking a glance at her watch her heart began to beat wildly in panic. “Let’s run Rochelle.” She suggested. She didn’t budge. “Bet I can beat you there!” And with that statement the race was on. Rochelle was fast for her age and Lorie almost broke a sweat as they raced down the side walk.
    Just at the end of the side walk, Rochelle came to an abrupt stop with Lorie right beside her. The daycare was practically within their reach. She could see the other children playing and hear their screams of delight. But they had one more obstacle.
    An extremely old man lay on the side walk, blocking off their path completely. He had a gray beard and wrinkles etched onto his face. His eyes were covered with absurd looking tiger glasses and he wore an indigo jean jacket and torn black pants. From their distance he smelled of alcohol and much worse. For a moment Lorie thought he was dead until she caught the rising of his chest and heard the snoring.
    “We’re going around the old man, okay?” she told Rochelle as she gripped her hand tightly. Walking quietly towards him, Lorie trying to keep Rochelle as far away from him as possible, they curved their course until they had one foot on the road.
    A hand with a firm grip suddenly lashed out and grabbed Lorie’s ankle, causing her to stumble to the ground. Rochelle only watched with surprise. Looking over her shoulder she saw the man, Dike she remembered, gripping onto her ankle and smiling crazily, his eyes still shielded by his tiger glasses.
    “Our Queen!” Dike yelled, pulling Lorie towards him. Despite her efforts and struggles she couldn’t break free. “Our Queen! Our Queen! She has returned!” Lorie was getting pulled closer to him and amongst the alcohol she could smell sour grapes, and trash.
    “Help!” Lorie screamed continuing to struggle. Rochelle stared at her with wide eyes. The road was clear and no cars were coming. Dike was beginning to stand slowly. “Rochelle, run! Go to the daycare and stay there!” She made no hesitation. As fast as her short legs could allow her she ran full blast across the road and ran into the sanctuary of the daycare. Rochelle was a smart girl, she could convince the babysitter to let her stay.
    “Let go!” Lorie yelled. Dike now stood on shaky legs as if he hadn’t walked in centuries. He was surprisingly tall for an old man and loomed over Lorie, heightening her fear.
    “Our Queen!” he yelled bending over and gripping her by the shoulders. In one movement she was standing up and dangling an inch above the ground. “She’s returned!” Dike spoke with a slurred voice and an almost comical joy like he had been out late at a party.
    “Lorie!” a familiar voice yelled. Looking around frantically she found Hector and the others running towards her. Dike looked too and dropped Lorie to the ground.
    “Our King! They’ve all returned! We’ve been reunited!” Dike stood with his arms outstretched as if he expected a hug. That man was a nut job. “The earth is saved!”
    Selene pushed her towards the front of the group, holding a sling in one hand and a baseball in the other. Her hands moved so fast that all Lorie could see was a blur and soon the baseball went flying. It hit home as Dike fell to the ground, a lump on his head and his tiger glasses broken.
    Hector came rushing towards her and ignored the unconscious Dike. Helping her up and brushing her off he gave her a tight hug and released her. “You okay?”
    “Never better,” she muttered.
    Patrick came next to them, a half-eaten stick of jerky in his mouth. “Where’s Rochelle?”
    “In the daycare,” Lorie replied taking an anxious look over. “I guess I’ll go check to see if she’s okay.
    Patrick and Hector spoke together. “No.”
    “She’s my sister and I’m sure she’ll be glad to see me,” Patrick said smiling at all of them. The bell for classes to start was about to ring. “All the teachers hate me anyways so they probably won’t even care if I’m late. Plus they give away free cookies and juice boxes at the daycare.”
    Everyone hesitated. Patrick sighed. “Just go.”
    Waiting a few seconds more until Patrick crossed the street, narrowly missing getting hit by a biker, the rest of them quickly sprinted back to the high school campus.
     
  8. Chapter 7: A Horse Lover’s Dream
    The ten of them made it onto the high school campus just as the bell rang. They had all left their lunches on the table so they decided to grab them and just carry them along in class. As it turns out, all eleven of them were in the same class which they had planned out the previous year (excluding Patrick who had marked the incorrect box). The door to their class was closed which was unusual because their teacher had always called their entire class ‘a bunch of sweaty buffoons.’ The class didn’t like the teacher.
    Carrying a book bag over his shoulder and his lunchbox in a hand Hector shrugged and opened the door to their class.
    They all crowded into the doorway, each one trying to get in before the other. After a silent agreement they all filed in and stopped in the very front of the classroom gazing around with wide eyes.
    “What the…” Delta whispered, staring around their usually bland classroom in horror.
    It was an equestrian’s dream come true, but any normal person would consider it a strange dream or a nightmare. Horses. The startling white paint that used to cover every inch of the room was now splattered with murals of horses doing horse-like things. Anything that wasn’t painted in a mural had a few posters on it with, guess what, horses. Even on the chalkboard and white board there were shadowy images of horses and on the SMART Board, the teacher’s background on their computer was of a horse. The old wood that used to make up their desks was replaced with a chocolate brown color with a glossy coat. The wood complemented the horses quite nicely actually…
    “Ah, my students!” an unfamiliar voice said from behind.
    Simultaneously they all turned around, expecting to see a cowboy or some dude in their forties wearing an I Love Ponies t-shirt. Their results were satisfactory. A man in his mid-twenties smiled at them. He had long, messy hair as if it hadn’t been combed for a week and the stubble of a beard. He wore dark brown trousers, a black shirt, and a tan jacket.
    “Please, please take a seat at your usual seating accommodations,” he said, walking in-between the columns of desks. He walked like anyone would except he had a bounce to his step, as if he were excited or nervous.
    The ten didn’t move. They only stared.
    The man turned on his heel, looking confused, and then smiled again. “Oh my! So sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name is Charles Heffner, Mr. C for short if you’d like. I prefer Charles though.” Looking upon the blank expressions of the students up front he continued. “You’re usual teacher, Ms. Terrell? Is that it? She requested a substitute and I’m the man for the job.” He smiled as if he made a joke.
    “Okay… that doesn’t explain why our classroom looks like a ranch for a twelve-year-old horse lover,” Rory said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
    Charles frowned and said, “I used to live on a ranch Mr. Tract. That is your name I suppose? We had a lot of horses back there and I happen to be an equestrian at the moment.” Large pieces of information were missing from his life story and it didn’t convince any of the eleven at the front of the room.
    “Yo Ms. Terrell!” Patrick said as he stormed into the room, a grin on his face. He didn’t seem to notice the horses yet. “My other teacher said I had to come here and−” his eyes widened. “Whoa…” he started, “This. Is. Awesome!” he exclaimed, prancing to the front of the room.
    Hector looked at him in disbelief. “You cannot be serious.”
    Patrick shrugged and walked over to his desk, fingering the glossy wood.
    “Are we studying horses or something?” Elaine asked, refusing to give up. “If we are, that would be kind of weird because this is English class so…”
    Charles waved his hand, dismissing the question and motioned them to their desks. When they were all seated he said, “I just thought it would be nice to share my interests with you and that’s that. Now, Ms. Terrell has made up an intense schedule for you that I’d like to follow, so if we could get started that would be nice.”
    The schedule actually was intense. Some students were actually breaking a sweat as they struggled to keep up with the sentence diagrams, fragments, onomatopoeias, excerpts from Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare, and Pride and Prejudice. The task was nearly impossible and when the forty-five minutes of class finally ended the students were literally jumping for joy.
    Rory had just one more sentence to write before he could leave. Unaware of Charles looking over him he continued to scribble. So far he had written: Romeo and Juliet had an EXTREMELY sad ending, especially when they died. Shakespeare is OK, but I’m still a Dr. Seuss fan. In his haste he pressed down on his pencil much harder than he had expected and the lead broke.
    Rory froze for a moment and randomly juggled the pencil between his hands screaming, “Arrgg!” as if he could sharpen it that way.
    “That’s enough Rory,” Charles said snatching the pencil out of Rory’s hands before he could hurt himself. Rory looked up and smiled apologetically. He reclaimed his pencil and stuffed it into his many pockets and gathered up his books in his arms and proceeded to exit the room.
    “Ah, Rory please wait for a moment,” Charles said, arms crossed and legs jittering as if he needed to use the restroom.
    Rory looked out the door to find his friends leaving without him. He frowned, considering whether to make a run for it. In the end he sighed, making no attempt to hide his displeasure, and sulked back to where Charles stood.
    “Can you tell Mr. Ketchfield something for me Rory?” Charles asked with a serious expression on his face.
    “You just want me to send him a message?” Rory responded. Not the most interesting task he had been asked to do but he’d do it willingly.
    Charles nodded. “That’s exactly what I want you do. Tell him that Charles Heffner has come.”
    Rory frowned. “Why don’t you just tell the actual principal? And shouldn’t Mr. Ketchfield know that you’re here? I mean he does handle all the applications and drop-ins.” Rory had used Mrs. Quinn, the real principal, as an excuse to exclude himself from talking to Mr. Ketchfield. The vice principal gave him the chills.
    Charles shook his head, his shaggy hair bouncing around. “No, no. I’d like you to tell Mr. Ketchfield personally. I’m sure he’d be most surprised.” Charles smiled a mischievous smile that Rory wore almost 24/7.
    Shrugging indifferently he replied, “Yeah, sure. Okay.” He began to walk towards the door when something popped to his mind. “I’ll tell Mr. Ketchfield under one condition.” He said imitating the smile Charles wore.
    Charles raised an eyebrow and frowned. “And what would be that condition Mr. Tract?”
    Rory leaned heavily against a desk and checked his fingernails like he saw people do on television. “Mr. Ketchfield took something important from me.”
    Charles eyes flared up and he stood up straighter. “Important?”
    Rory nodded. “Mr. Ketchfield took away a slide whistle from me that he gave me.” Rory pouted and crossed his arms like a toddler. “I thought I actually had a future as a musician when I played it.” Somewhere in the school, Conrad the virtuoso laughed abruptly and loudly.
    The flame in Charles eyes vanished and he seemed to age ten years. “Sorry Rory I don’t think I can do that. I’m sure Mr. Ketchfield had a perfectly good reason for confiscating it.”
    “No whistle,” Rory said with an edge to his voice, “No deal.”
    Charles glared at him for a few seconds, but finally gave in and nodded in response. “Deal.”
     
  9. Chapter 8: Schedules and Classes
    Hector was having a particularly odd day. Conrad’s random outburst of laughter was another thing to add to his list of oddities.
    Delta glanced at Conrad briefly. “You here a funny joke or something Conrad?” he asked curiously.
    Conrad hesitated. “Yeah, a funny joke… Sure let’s go with that.” He fumbled around in his bag before he produced a recorder. He pressed the instrument to his lips and was about to play when Delta interrupted him.
    “So what joke was it?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips.
    Conrad sighed and looked up, thinking. “Erm… Why’d the chicken cross the road?”
    “To get to the other side, duh,” Sandra said as she rolled her eyes. In the small time of space in the halls she had weaved some flowers into her hair and proceeded to attach one to her shirt.
    “Nope. To get away from the KFC.” He attempted a half hearted laugh and hoped the others would join in. You could almost hear the crickets chirping. Comedian was now crossed off his list of possible jobs. He began to play Beethoven’s Fur Elise on the recorder as they walked to their next class.
    The sound of running footsteps sounded behind them. Delta instinctively turned around, grabbing a pencil from his bag to use as a weapon and stood in a defensive stance.
    “Hi guys!” Rory exclaimed slowing down just enough so he could talk to them. His fingers were moving much more than usual. Delta eased out of his stance, a bit disappointed that he didn’t get to use his pencil. So instead, he threw the pencil at Rory’s face. “Ow?” Rory replied to the pathetic stunt. He stooped low picking up the pencil and stuffing it into his many pockets before Delta could argue.
    “I’m pretty sure we all have home economics next,” Lorie said abruptly as she peered carefully at a schedule in her hand. “Or we might have science next. I can never tell! This schedule is all screwed up!” In her frustration she crumpled the schedule into a fist and threw it to the ground. That was probably the most violent thing she had ever done.
    “Well I have choir now,” Conrad said as he finished the last measure of the piece with a flourish. He lifted up his shirt sleeve to reveal a small watch on his wrist. “Oh. I’m late again,” he groaned as he jogged away.
    Sandra finished pinning a flower to her shirt and said, “I’ve got to meet up with the principal. We’re discussing a whole lunch menu based on wheat!” She turned on her heel and walked towards the office at a slow pace.
    “I’m gone,” Patrick said turning with his hands in his pocket.
    “To…?” Elaine said slowly, suspicion in her tone. “If you’re going to make out on my locker again I swear I’m going to…”
    “I’m not!” Patrick snapped a bit irritably. “I think I have to meet up with the swimming coach or something. Anyways I’ll see you later.” With that he disappeared around a corner.
    Lorie bent down low to pick up her crumpled schedule, planning to review it again to make sure everyone went where they were supposed to. Hector draped an arm around her shoulder and gently took the list out of her hands. “And that means,” Hector began, “we all have home economics now.”
    “But I...the schedule…and…” Lorie stuttered and eventually gave up. She perked up considerably now that she knew what to do. “We have cooking classes in home economics today.”
    Hector nudged Delta playfully. “Try not to set the teacher’s hair on fire this time.”
    Delta smiled, remembering what the teacher looked like with a burned scalp. “No promises on that one.”
    All of them had a good laugh at that one including Rory who stayed just long enough to hear the joke. He departed from the group to deliver the message to Mr. Ketchfield. Thank goodness, Rory thought as he headed towards the office, I get to skip a few minutes of math.
     
  10. Chapter 9: Office Party
    Rory quickly hustled towards the office. Outside of the school it was oddly quiet without any people about. They were all in their classes beginning to learn something new and boring. The doors to the office were in sight and Rory picked up his pace. He had his hand on the door knob and a feeling of dread suddenly overwhelmed him. Shrugging, he entered the office anyway.
    Bright lights shown into his face and air conditioned air chilled him to the bones. He sat in a nearby chair, waiting for someone to walk by so he could ask for Mr. Ketchfield. He twiddled his thumbs impatiently after a minute or so.
    “But Mrs. Quinn,” a familiar voice began, “You’ve got to consider all the benefits!” An irritated looking principal in high heels strode out of her office followed by the red-headed Sandra who carried a small notepad with her.
    Rory sat back in his chair suddenly intrigued. When Sandra wouldn’t let up Mrs. Quinn turned on her heel and embarrassingly enough almost fell. “Sandra many of our students here at Divinity XII are allergic to gluten based products.” Mrs. Quinn stopped midway through her rant and looked at Rory curiously. Rory smiled the most pleasant smile he could muster.
    “Please don’t mind me,” he said, waving his hand.
    Sandra smiled brightly like she normally would and waved enthusiastically to Rory. “Hiya Rory!”
    Mrs. Quinn rubbed a temple as if she had a headache. “Rory why are you here?”
    “I’m here to see Mr. Ketchfield,” he said looking around again. “Any ideas where he might be?”
    Mrs. Quinn sighed a bit melodramatically while Sandra stood waiting patiently next to her. “Perhaps he’s through the door that has the sign Mr. Ketchfield on it?”
    Rory looked to where she was motioning to and was rather surprised when he saw a black sign made of stone with white letters painted on it. “Heh, heh. Oops, sorry Mrs. Quinn.” He quickly shuffled towards the door and entered before Mrs. Quinn could lecture him on manners and attentiveness.
    When he closed the door behind him a cold struck him, much colder than the cold he had experienced with the air conditioning. This cold seemed almost, evil. Or perhaps it was the apple bran cookies he had eaten earlier at lunch.
    The office he stood in was nothing like he had expected. To put it simply, the color scheme was simply black and a few shades of red. Which included Mr. Ketchfield’s dried blood colored desk and a few maroon curtains that shaded the windows. Everything else was the color of obsidian rock.
    Mr. Ketchfield suddenly appeared from a black door on one of the black walls and closed it gently behind him; using the key he kept on his waist to lock it tightly. He stood up straighter then and turned to face Rory. “Mr. Tract?” he asked, leaning casually against the door he had previously opened. The smell of smoke seemed to emit from the door, but perhaps it was just the scattered ash trays around the room. “Why are you in my presence?” He shifted his weight a bit more on his shoulder, as if he were trying to keep the door shut.
    Rory ignored his question and looked past him at the door. “Where does the door lead to? I’ve been around the school a dozen times and around the office. I’ve never seen an extension for the door.” When Mr. Ketchfield didn’t budge he asked again. “Where does it lead to?”
    Mr. Ketchfield hesitated a bit before answering. “It’s a, ah, private restroom.” He responded.
    “All right then,” Rory said taking a seat in an ornate looking chair. Mr. Ketchfield relaxed slightly as he folded his arms.
    “Well, why are you here?”
    Rory looked up at him and frowned. “What?”
    “You barged into my office, remember?”
    Rory shook his head. “No not particularly…” he had a creeping urge to say something for someone but couldn’t remember what…
    “Perhaps when you remember Mr. Tract,” Mr. Ketchfield said quickly as he picked Rory off the chair and attempted to usher him out of his office.
    “Wait!” Rory exclaimed as whirled around before the Mr. Ketchfield could open the door. “I remember! I’ve got two things to say.”
    “I’m waiting.”
    He cleared his throat and attempted to imitate Charles voice, which as you may assume failed on a high level. “Charles Heffner has come.”
    Mr. Ketchfield went paper white and for a moment Rory thought the vice principal was going to faint. He cleared his throat and pulled himself together, despite the fact his eyes were filled with anger. “What was the second thing you wanted to mention Rory?” asked Mr. Ketchfield, an edge to his voice.
    Rory looked around the office with his hand on the door knob. “Have you considered redecorating around here?” he asked. “Looks kind of Goth to me.” And before Mr. Ketchfield could chastise him, Rory slipped out of the vice principal’s office.
     
  11. Chapter 10: A Plead for Help
    Delta set the teacher’s hair on fire, again, much to the amusement of the other classmates in cooking class.
    “Well at least you didn’t burn off all of the teacher’s hair,” Terrance mused, fiddling with a battery while he wheeled himself with his other hand.
    “I almost wish you did,” Cyndia chimed in as she wheeled Terrance away from a wall he was about to crash into. “He has dreadful split ends and dread locks just aren’t working out for his features.”
    Delta shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I try my best.”
    Elaine strode up next to him and wiped her flour covered hands on his black t-shirt and jumped out of his reach. “Yeah, you try too hard to get yourself in detention. How are you supposed to concentrate for the wrestling match today?”
    Cyndia stopped wheeling Terrance away from walls as she froze. Terrance crashed into a locker as a result. “The match is today? Already?”
    “Yup, today’s the day,” Elaine said as she wiped off the rest of the flour onto her jeans.
    “Okay then.” Cyndia replied absently as she walked on. Terrance mumbled to himself as he wheeled himself away from the locker and towards the group. As they continued their walk down the halls Patrick emerged from another door, ear buds in his ear and his head nodding rhythmically.
    “Patrick!” Hector called as they passed. Patrick paid no heed towards them and continued. Sighing deeply Delta caught up with him and yanked the ear buds right out of his ears.
    “Watch it you…” Patrick began as he turned. His words died as he realized who he was talking to. “Oh hi Delta!” he said, rubbing his ears and replacing the ear buds inside.
    Hector and the rest went up to meet him. Patrick’s head was nodding rhythmically and he was beginning to do a horrifying little dance. “What are the ear buds for?” Hector asked to no avail.
    Delta yanked the ear buds out again and yelled directly into Patrick’s ear, “What are the ear buds for?
    Patrick jumped back in surprise and landed on his back. He stood up and brushed himself off. “Okay. Firstly, ow! That really hurt! I think you exploded my ear drum…” he moaned as he rubbed both his ears. “And secondly, my swimming teacher gave me this weird guru ocean noise cassette to help me become one with the water.” The others look at him strangely and he shrugged as he replaced his ear buds. “My swimming teacher was a hippie in his youth days,” he said as he nodded his head again. “The noise is quite relaxing actually.”
    “If you say so,” Hector responded, well aware Patrick was now fully absorbed in his guru ocean noises.
    As they walked towards the exit of the school, hoping to get a few minutes of air before the next period began Sandra slipped into the group. Her head hung low as she embraced the defeat of her wheat based menu. Hector opened the door to the exit and immediately Rory came rushing in, face extremely pale.
    “Choir room… Conrad… ran past… door locked… screaming… tired… out of breath…” Rory gasped before he fell to his knees, moaning for water.
    Selene pushed herself forwards until she was in front of Rory. “What’s wrong with Conrad?” In a feeble attempt for a response, Rory pointed a shaky arm towards the choir room.
    Hector stepped outside. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
     
  12. Chapter 11: Syrene
    Previously in choir room.
    Conrad entered the darkened room, fumbling about for a light switch. “Hello?” he called out as he continued to walk blindly. “Anyone here? Sorry I’m late!” Hushed whispers sounded from a corner and Conrad stumbled towards the source of the noise.
    A yellow light abruptly flashed on, spot lighting a group of girls clad in black dresses. “Oh hello,” the first girl said in a sing song voice. She stepped forward and approached Conrad, her red heels clicking on the floor. “Sorry to intrude. I’m Syrene.” She held out her hand, red painted nails and all.
    Conrad found himself losing focus in front of the girl. He took the hand and forced himself to let go after a quick shake. She smiled and adjusted the loose bun she wore so that her black hair fell over her pale features. The other girls behind her walked up, dressed exactly the same but having different skin tones and hair colors. They all licked their lips. Conrad figured their lips were just getting dry under the red lipstick.
    “So… what are you doing here?” he asked wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and denim jacket. “I don’t see you around school.”
    One with blonde hair walked next to Syrene, her dress swaying. In closer inspection it seemed to be covered with small feathers. “We’re exchange students from Dublin. We wanted to see the choir room and the lights just blacked out,” she said in a voice that belonged in an album. On a stranger note she added, “We heard the music teacher here is fantastic.” Giggles erupted from the arrangement of girls. Even that belonged in an album.
    Conrad had an abrupt migraine and closed his eyes, hoping the pain would ease. He saw a few flashes of a black bird on a deserted island and when he opened his eyes the group of girls was looking down at him curiously. A feeling of dread washed over him and he stepped back into the darkness, scrambling to find the door.
    “After him,” Syrene said. The other girls ran towards the door before Conrad could even see it. He heard the lock click into place and panic fluttered in his stomach. Syrene looked down at him in the dark and he could’ve sworn she flapped her arms like wings. “Welcome to hell Apollo,” she said in her sing song voice. Making a split decision Conrad screamed.

    Selene desperately tried turning the handle on the door to the choir room to no avail. She was reduced to pounding on the door screaming Conrad’s name over and over. A few screams sounded in response.
    Delta gently pushed Selene towards the side. Cyndia ran to his side and both of them backed up. They ran in synchronized speed and in seconds the door crumpled to the ground like foil.
    Selene ran in first, not caring about unseen dangers. She cast her own pale light as she walked through the darkened room. “Conrad!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. The others scrambled in after her, stepping over the ruined door. Selene ran around desperately, trying to find her brother in the dark.
    “Stop!” a euphonious commanded. Everyone stopped in turn, with an exception for Patrick who had gotten lost in the dark.
    Syrene turned on a light and the whole room illuminated, revealing Conrad who was surrounded by a group of girls. Syrene and her group continuously twitched their head from side to side and flapped their arms erratically.
    Selene spotted her brother and nearly collapsed. “Conrad!” she yelled as she sprinted towards him. Syrene tilted her head and smiled.
    “Selene, be a dear and come over here,” Syrene sang in different octaves that flowed perfectly together. Selene stopped and turned her head towards Syrene, eyes wide with curiosity. Conrad whimpered, but Selene was already over powered by the song coming from Syrene’s mouth.
    Everyone in turn took hesitant steps toward Syrene and eventually fell to their knees. “Fantastic!” Syrene exclaimed clapping her hands together. She surveyed the crowd in front of her and cocked her head again. “Aren’t they’re supposed to be twelve of you?”
    Patrick peeked around the corner he was hiding behind, hoping Syrene was distracted enough. He briskly adjusted his ear buds, making sure they wouldn’t fall out, and gave a large battle cry like a maniac as he charged out of his hiding place and tackled Syrene.
     
  13. Chapter 12: Singing Enthusiasts
    Idiot was all Delta could think of as Patrick tackled Syrene to the ground. She flailed around under Patrick’s hold, flapping her arms about as if she could fly out. The other girls watched in horror as their leader was being attacked. They left Conrad’s side and shrieked in extremely high octaves. And somehow, the noise could still melt your heart.
    Patrick pinned down Syrene’s arms and managed to flip her over on her stomach. He attempted to sit on her to try and keep her steady, but she shook him off before he could even try.
    Hector watched in fascination as the girls ganged up on Patrick. Then they started to sing, hoping to break through Patrick’s ocean noises. Patrick seemed to falter for a moment. Hector melted all together, along with the rest. Lorie had enough sense still left in her to smack her boyfriend in the back of his head.
    “How can he even take the singing for a second?” Lorie asked as Hector rubbed the back of his head. Despite the sense Lorie still had left, even she had the urge to get up and walk over to hear the singing more clearly.
    Delta sat up with a jolt, realizing the big picture of the whole situation. He pressed the heels of his hands against his ears and all noise was blurred. He could still hear the singing, but the noise was muffled enough to break the influence over him. He stood and looked around at the others.
    They looked backed up at him and followed his actions, smiling in relief. Selene rummaged through the pockets of her pants and produced a white leather bag. She zipped it open and tossed the contents on the floor. Orange cylinders the size of mini marshmallows tumbled out. Everyone frantically grabbed two in a hand and stuffed the ear plugs in their ears. They all stood with renewed strength. Selene put the leather bag back into her pocket and smiled.
    “I always bring some when I go hunting with my rifle,” she stated, well aware no one could really hear her. Selene rushed over to her brother, handing him too ear plugs that he stuffed into his ears.
    “Their…birds Selene,” Conrad muttered as he stood on shaky legs. “They called me Apollo.” He murmured as he pressed his lips together, eyes bulging.
    Delta ran towards Syrene, bringing her into a choking position which she feebly clawed at to try and escape.
    Hector shook his head in disapproval. “No violence Delta. We don’t want to hurt them.” As if it were a signal, Charles Heffner came in through the ruined doorway, a silver bow in one hand and a quiver strapped onto his back. Selene watched with a strange light in her eyes as Charles drew an arrow from his quiver and strung it to the bow. In a fluid motion the arrow flew off, impaling itself directly in Syrene’s chest. She never even had a chance to shriek before she evaporated into black smoke. Delta stumbled back in surprise and managed to crash into a drum set as he did so.
    Charles took another arrow from his quiver with less enthusiasm and aimed it at the blonde. She gave what sounded like a caw and sprinted through the doorway, followed by the others in their black dresses and red heels. Charles released the tension on the bow and lowered it so it pointed to the ground. Rory came running through the doorway, tripping over the ruined door before he stood next to Charles. He was gasping for breath again and his forehead was slick with sweat.
    Everyone looked at Charles with awe and Patrick removed the ear buds from his cassette. A mechanical shriek of a seagull sounded and everyone jumped, passing glares at Patrick as they got their bearings.
    “So much for no violence,” Hector whispered under his breath as he stuffed the orange ear plugs into his pockets. No one moved for a long moment as they continued to stare at Charles.
    He motioned to the doorway calmly and stood there for a few moments, contemplating what to say. “Meet me in front of the Student Council room in ten minutes. Don’t worry about your other classes,” said Charles as he stepped over the door without waiting for a response.


    Chapter 13: Debate
    Conrad wouldn’t snap out of shock, no matter how hard Selene pleaded or how hard Delta flicked him in the ear. He muttered to himself and flinched at every bird that flew above them.
    “What do we do?” Selene wailed as she tried to snap her brother out of whatever state he was in. Everyone was shaken up, no doubt, but whatever those ‘demons’ did to him had the most effect.
    Hector ignored Selene’s question and checked his watch. In seven minutes they were supposed to be in front of the Student Council room for whatever surprise Charles had for them. He shuddered at the thought of a wave of arrows raining down on the eleven of them. “Maybe we shouldn’t see Charles,” Hector eventually said. “I mean, for all we know he could be a raving mad man with an arsenal of weapons.”
    “But he helped us,” Lorie said quietly as she tried to fix her braid back to its original interlocking colors. First Dike and now animal hybrids. This day just keeps getting better and better. “Maybe he’s not a mad man. Maybe he’s a guardian angel of some sort.”
    “Yeah, a guardian angel for horses,” Delta snorted indignantly. “That guy has an addiction and a creepy one at that. I saw we don’t go.”
    “But you’re addicted to fighting,” Elaine pointed out.
    “It’s not an addiction,” Delta insisted, “It’s a hobby.”
    Selene fixed her snow white hair into a loose bun and led her brother away from the shelter of the supply closet. “Maybe he can help Conrad,” Selene said. Conrad didn’t seem to be getting any better. “And what if this is only a onetime thing? What if we hold it off for a day and he’s not there the next.” She frowned slightly. “He just came so abruptly. He might leave the same way.”
    “She does have a point,” Elaine mentioned. “We could just ask if he could help us and if he says no we bolt.” She thought for a moment. “Then again he might hold us hostage, shoot us, or run after us. Honestly the possibilities are endless.”
    Selene glared at her. “That’s not helping!”
    “Just pointing out the facts.”
    Hector had a silent debate in his head, considering the risks and possibilities. When he looked up he saw Selene’s pleading face and he caved in. “Okay, we’re going. We’ll stake out for a few moments and if something creepy happens we’re gone.” He checked his watch again and saw they had only four minutes left. “I suggest we leave now.”
     
  14. Chapter 14: Locked In
    They strode wearily towards the Student Council room, peeking around to make sure no creatures would jump out at them. When they came closer into view they saw Charles eating a bag of trail mix, discarding the M&M’s in a rhythmic fashion.
    “See,” Delta said in a hushed voice. “I told you he has problems. Who would get rid of M&M’s?” Elaine hit him in the base of the neck with the heel of her hand.
    Hector hesitated. “Maybe he can’t see us or maybe he’ll forget. Let’s just get out of here while he still can’t see us.”
    “Ahem,” Charles called from his position in front of the Student Council room. He munched on a handful of trail mix. “You do realize I can hear you, right?”
    “We’re screwed,” muttered Delta.
    They strode towards Charles wearily again, half expecting him to pull out a quiver filled with arrows and a bow. He quickly grabbed another handful of trail mix and stuffed it into his mouth unceremoniously. He made a gagging noise and spit out a candy coated piece of chocolate. “Severe chocolate allergy,” he responded to the curious stares of his students. He folded up the bag of trail mix and put it into his coat pocket. He stood there calmly, as if waiting for them to speak first. “Fancy seeing you here.”
    Hector frowned. “You told us to come here.”
    Charles nodded. “Yes, yes I did.” He waited again, expecting them to speak. He scowled. “You can’t expect me to do all the talking. That piece of chocolate is giving me a hoarse voice.” He chuckled as if he said something funny and quickly silenced himself.
    “Why do you want us here?” Delta asked impatiently.
    Selene pushed her way to the front of the group, dragging her twin brother by the wrist so he would follow. Conrad had stopped muttering, but now was hunched up with his head down low. “Can you fix him?” Selene asked, concern coating her voice. “I haven’t seen him like this since he accidentally broke his guitar strings.”
    Charles had a bemused expression on his face. “Now why would he do that?”
    It was Selene’s turn to look bemused. “Do what?”
    “Break his guitar strings. I thought he loved instruments.”
    “I don’t know!” exclaimed Selene, throwing up her arms in exasperation. “He was playing too hard? How do I know?” She narrowed her eyes. “Quit changing the subject! Can you help him or not?”
    “He’ll be fine,” Charles said as he took a small golden key from his pocket. “He’s just in shock that’s all. He’ll heal himself eventually.”
    Selene barked a laugh. “Conrad? Heal himself? Oh please. I’ve seen him try to put a band aid on a paper cut and he had to go to the hospital afterwards.”
    He opened the door to Student Council room after a few seconds and stood aside. “Hurry and go inside.”
    Patrick frowned as he whispered into Rory’s ear. “I don’t trust that guy.”
    Rory rolled his eyes. “Why? Because he could be a psychopath with a chainsaw that’s trying to heard us into a room defenseless? That’s just stupid Patrick.” Even so, both Rory and Patrick stood behind Delta so he could act as a shield. Delta sighed.
    They all took a few seconds hesitation and slowly filed in. One of the eleven gave a high pitched scream and the rest turned around.
    Terrance was struggling to get out of a nearly invisible metal net. He flailed his arms around erratically and rolled back and forth in his wheel chair. The net only got stuck in the wheels and the chair toppled over, along with Terrance.
    “Save yourselves!” he exclaimed as he got even more tangled. “I’m a dead man! A dead man!”
    “More like delusional,” Elaine muttered.
    “Before I go,” Terrance continued, “I just want to say Cyndia I’ve always loved−”
    “Somebody shoot me!” Cyndia yelled as she screwed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears. As an awkward silence filled the room she slowly opened her eyes and removed her hands. “If you end that sentence with you Terrance I’m going to kill you.” Terrance smiled, hoping Cyndia would smile back to admit her joke. No such thing came and Terrance clamped his mouth shut.
    “So sorry!” Charles said as he hurried up to Terrance in two strides. “We should’ve removed that net awhile ago.” As he untangled Terrance, he helped him up back into his wheel chair, folded the net, and dropped the now visible net onto the floor. “Now, where were we?”
    Rory eyed to door and without any hesitation what so ever made a bolt for it. He slammed into the door as Charles closed it before he could escape. Rory made quite a show as he pounded on the door repeatedly, yelling, “Help us! A mad man has us captive!”
    “Rory they can’t hear you,” Charles said, a sigh creeping into his voice. “The room is soundproof.” Rory then quit his insistent pounding and backed up about three feet. He gave a loud yell and ran himself into the door. The door didn’t even shake in its frame. Charles sighed this time. “The door is reinforced.”
    Rory rolled around on the floor, clutching his head and moaning. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?” he muttered.
    Ignoring the question Charles pulled up a chair and sat with his legs stretched out in front of him with his ankles crossed. “So what do you think?”
    Patrick stepped up. “I think you’re a sociopath with a chainsaw who’s going to kill us in this room against our will with absolutely nothing to protect us.”
    Rory frowned. “Hey, that was my idea.”
    “But you didn’t use the word sociopath.”
    Charles cleared his throat, silencing the quarrel. “Ah, no. I don’t mean what you think of me, I mean what you think of your new ‘headquarters.’ And sociopath? What does Ms. Terrell teach you for heaven’s sake?”
    “Wait, headquarters?” Sandra asked. “As in HQ? Oh, are we spies now? Do we get cool spy gear and spy outfits? But if we do get spy outfits can I get mine in pink?”
    “She’s a bit, ah, eccentric I see,” Charles said uneasily. “And no we’re not spies, but that would make things a lot easier on me.”
    “So why are we here?” Hector asked impatiently. His eyes seemed even darker than usual.
    Charles seemed to age a few years and he leaned back into the chair a bit further. “We’re all in trouble you see. Mortals and immortals alike. About a decade back the oracle had predicted a great twelve and an awful war that would take place in our time period.” He smiled weakly at the confused and slightly startled stares of his students. “I don’t mean to sound so ominous but there’s no other way to describe it. And it appears my suspicions are being confirmed. I believe that you are the twelve.”
     
  15. Chapter 15: The Truth
    Volleys of questions were fired at Charles.
    “What’s an oracle?” “Immortals?” “War? As in World War III?” “What twelve? There are only eleven of us.”
    Charles sat up sharply. “Eleven?” he asked. “There are only eleven of you?”
    “Last we checked,” Delta said matter-of-factly.
    To make sure, Charles counted the people in the room, excluding himself, and sat back down again in his chair. “Eleven,” he whispered. “That can’t be right.”
    “What is going on?” Hector yelled, his patience nearly gone. “Why are we here trapped in the Student Council room? None of us are in Student Council!”
    Charles looked up. “There are suppose to be twelve of you.” He sat up and his eyes were hopeful. “Maybe the oracle is wrong! Maybe it isn’t you!” He stood from his chair and smiled a bit.
    “The oracle is never wrong,” Conrad said from out of the blue. He seemed to be back to normal but now his eyes were glazed with anger. “The oracle may be unclear at times but it is never wrong.”
    “What’s the oracle?” Elaine asked curiously.
    Conrad frowned and his brow creased. “I’m…not sure anymore.” He looked down as if he was thinking and he snapped his head back up and looked at Charles. “Those girls in black. The ones that acted like birds. They called me Apollo. Why?”
    “They know,” Charles whispered and for a moment it appeared he would faint but he still stood sturdy as ever.
    “How come I don’t get a nickname?” Patrick whined. “I deserve one just as much as you do. I won four swimming medals and I pick up trash at the beach.”
    “We want an explanation!” Hector demanded, his arms crossed and his eyes blazing. The darker his eyes became, the more definite the silver specks were in his irises. It resembled something close to a lightning storm.
    “The Greek gods,” Charles said briskly. “You all resemble the Greek gods. And my suspicions lead to saying that you are the gods.”
    “Are you saying we’re so awesome that we have godlike abilities?” Elaine asked. “Or are you saying we might be demigods? Like hybrids or something.” She smiled. “I could use the type of power a demigod has.”
    Being a god and being related to a god are two completely separate things,” Charles explained. “There are absolutely no demigods in existence at the moment.”
    “So we’re not demigods?” asked Elaine who was apparently disappointed.
    Charles shook his head. “I’m saying that you are the gods, which is a completely different thing. More likely incarnations of the gods, which would make more sense.” No one responded, either out of confusion or shock. Charles went with confusion.
    “Incarnations?” Elaine asked.
    “It’s like the spirit of the god living inside of you,” Charles said, and just as quickly realized his mistake.
    “We’re possessed!” Elaine exclaimed in an octave louder than her usual voice. She held her hands against her head as if she could think the god out of her. “Are we even… us? Are we just shells for the gods and we have their personality?” She shivered at the thought that her personality was just gods’ or goddesses’.
    Charles scratched his chin and eventually shook his shaggy head. “No, no, you’re most certainly and completely human, and mortal too. It’s just that an essence of a god or goddess inhabits you. You’re personality and will is completely your own.” He scratched his chin again. “But the spirit of the god you inhabit appears to have altered a few appearances and physical abilities.”
    “I’m finding this hard to believe…” Hector began slowly. “If the Greek gods are all powerful, why would they need to inhabit a human?”
    Charles sighed. “And that is what deeply worries me. Not only have the gods and goddesses fled to inhabit someone, but other mythical figures have inhabited others too.”
    “Then where do you tie into all of this?” Lorie asked quizzically. “Are you a god too or some evil monster who’s going to kill us?”
    He smiled proudly. “I hate to jump to conclusion, but with my knowledge of Greek myths and my love of… horses, it appears Chiron has inhabited me.”
    “And that doesn’t creep you out at all?” Hector said. After he had thought about every creepy thing that has happened in his life, this topped the list.
    “No, not at all. I know that I’m basically myself and I have added abilities that makes me, me.”
    “So we’re the gods?” Lorie asked, a bit of excitement in her voice. “Do we have any powers?”
    “Depends on the god or goddess that currently inhabits you,” Charles, or Chiron, replied.
    “I still don’t understand how that doesn’t creep you out. I mean, you have a god living inside you.” Hector rubbed his stomach tentatively as if that was where his god lived.
    Charles sighed. He was probably frustrated that he had to repeat information over again. “You’re not two separate things so the spirit of the god cannot take control over you. You are the god at the moment until you die.” He hesitated. “Then that essence moves on to another suitable person to live in.” He looked at each of them closely. “I’m guessing you’re having trouble grasping the idea?”
    “Just skeptical,” Hector replied. He bit his lower lip lightly and finally asked, “Which god are we?”
    Charles gave a chuckle and motioned to the table that stood behind them. The table had twelve chairs, twelve different nametags, and different pouches in front of the nametags. “I guarantee you’ll believe me once I show you the best part about this room.”
     
  16. Bump for New Readers!
     
  17. Hey. This is really good. Would u mind if I let u read my book and let me know wat u think
     
  18. Chapter 16: New Toys
    Rory picked up a nametag, squinted at it, and finally put it back down while he rubbed a temple. “I can’t read Egyptian!” Rory whined. “Or I may just be suffering a concussion.” He picked up a nametag again and held it up for everyone to see. “Aren’t these called… hieroglyphics or something?” He looked at the nametag again. “Or maybe it’s in Chinese…”
    “You can’t read Chinese Rory,” Delta remarked as he eyed a crimson nametag. “Or hieroglyphics.” He eyed Rory craftily. “You can barely read English, dude.” Rory stuck his tongue out at him immaturely and looked at the other tags.
    “You know,” Elaine said as she squinted at a nametag, “We’re not even on Student Council.”
    “I ran for it and won,” Rory said smiling proudly.
    Elaine grinned at him. “You were the only person to run for the school mascot and you don’t even get to participate in Student Council meetings. But at least you still have your dignity.”
    “For your information Elaine,” Rory said, “I lost my dignity about three years ago. And I think dressing up like an eagle and dancing around a field is very dignified.”
    Elaine rolled her eyes and picked up the name tag she was squinting at. “This is written in… Greek, right? How do you expect us to read in Greek?” Charles shrugged and started humming the tune to The Daring Horseman. Elaine fumed. “Then how are we suppose to read−”
    “There are captions,” Hector pointed out. He found the small words HECTOR DANIELS typed below the symbols Δίας on a sky blue name tag. He raised an eyebrow at Charles. “So… is there where I sit?” Charles nodded, apparently pleased.
    Elaine looked at the name tag she was still holding and read SANDRA FLORA underneath the symbols Δήμητρα. Elaine motioned to Sandra who happily skipped over to her seat.
    Everyone got assorted and finally the eleven were sitting in their proper seats with Hector at the head of the table and the boys and girls separated from each other. There was one empty seat with a blank name tag and no pouch in front of it.
    “We’re missing someone,” Hector pointed out. Charles nodded deep in thought as he twiddled with a loose cuff link.
    “So this is the best part about this room?” Delta asked with disappointment in his tone. “A table and some chairs. Big whoop. I’m not impressed.” He leaned back in his chair and found a drawer in front of him with a small golden key in a lock. As the others leaned back they also found a drawer with a key. Delta raised an eyebrow towards Charles and he nodded. Shrugging, he turned the key once and attempted to tug the drawer open. It didn’t budge. The others were having similar problems.
    “It…won’t…open!” Rory exclaimed as he tugged on the drawer furiously. After about three seconds he stood and began to tug at it again, causing the whole table to shake.
    Terrance fidgeted in his wheelchair. “Cut it out!” he snapped. He wheeled himself over to his own drawer and turned the key twelve times. It clicked times and he gently pushed the drawer inwards. It popped open in front of him. “Nice,” Terrance smiled, apparently pleased. “Twelve tumblers in one lock? Very impressive.”
    “Nerd,” Delta muttered as he turned his own key twelve times and pushed inwards. The others followed suit and in a few seconds open drawers stood before them. He peered inside the drawer and reached in his hand experimentally. He pulled out a wicked looking sword with a crimson hilt moments later. “Whoa,” he breathed as he turned the blade in the light.
    Hector smiled and reached his hand in. He produced a gray bag with a golden string tying it together. Frowning, he poured the contents into his hand and gray marbles with silver centers tumbled out. “Marbles?” he asked pointedly at Charles.
    Electric marbles,” Charles corrected. “I didn’t want it to be too conspicuous.”
    “Awesome!” Patrick yelled as he pulled out an aquamarine trident that was as tall as him. It appeared to have small air bubbles and small fish swimming inside.
    “And that’s not conspicuous?” Hector argued as he pointed to Patrick’s trident. Charles chuckled.
    The others pulled out various weaponry and squealed in delight as Hector sulked in his seat. One reason he sulked was because of the pathetic looking marbles he received. The second reason was for the twin golden and silver arrows that nearly impaled his head. Courtesy of Conrad and Selene.
    “Why do we need weapons?” Elaine asked as she polished a small bronze disk. She bit her lower lip slowly and turned a triangular shaped panel on the disk. She continued turning more and more panels until the small bronze disk grew into a full sized shield with a picture of an owl at the front. “No way,” she whispered as she pretended to block an enemies’ hit. She folded the shield back into itself and put the disk in her pocket.
    “To answer your question,” Charles said as he adjusted a quiver of arrows onto his back and strummed the string on his bow. “I’ve mentioned that mortals and immortals alike are in grave danger.” He sighed and set his bow onto the ground. “We’re going to war.”
    Rory stopped tying his new shoes as he jerked in his chair. He fell to the floor with a thud, a golden Converse in his hand. “War?” he croaked with a dry voice. “You mean like a video game right? As in Black Ops or Halo Reach, right?” He hastily tied his other shoe on and scrambled into his seat. He looked pale.
    “No Rory, I mean actual war. I know you’re all, what fourteen? I don’t have every detail yet but I know you’re all vital to this particular war.” Charles looked at each of their worried looking faces, with an exception of Delta who looked positively elated.
    “Bring in the military!” Patrick yelled angrily. He gripped the trident in a fist, which changed from a calm aquamarine to a stormy gray color. “You can’t send us out to war! We’re freaking teenagers!” He collapsed back into his seat with the trident still in his fist. It was back to a calm aquamarine color.
    “Patrick,” Charles said in a gentle voice. “I know you’ve been through a lot with your father out in the army, but this is something that the military can’t deal with. Sure they have their arsenal of weaponry but they won’t stand a chance against gods.”
    “Gods?” Cyndia asked, “I thought we were the gods.”
    Charles looked at us with a guilty expression on his face. “I’m very sorry my students. I should’ve told you all of this before you got dragged in.” He took a deep breath before speaking again. “The minor gods are rising and they’re targeting all of you.”
     
  19. Chapter 17: Camouflage
    The information slowly sunk in, and when it finally did chaos reigned.
    “Aren’t there like, seventy minor gods?” Elaine asked with a strain in her voice. “There are only eleven of us. We don’t stand a chance! Even with our weapons!”
    “Not everyone has a weapon,” Cyndia murmured as she fingered a jeweled pocket mirror and belt.
    “If there was any other way…” Charles said quietly. “No one else can fight this war for you. You are the twelve; you just need to find your last comrade.” He smiled reassuringly, a spark in his eyes. “I assure that you won’t go unprepared. You’ll be training every day beginning tomorrow and you’ll be completely ready.” He motioned to the pouches that stood in front of the nametags. “Keep those pouches with you at all times. They have medical supplies and…something else.”
    Delta reached for his pouch and began to open it until Charles shook his head towards him. “Not yet Delta. Bring it with you when we begin to train. Disguise your weapons for now and bring them with you tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch and nodded approvingly. “School is almost coming to an end my students. I suggest you find your last comrade today.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully as he looked at the empty chair and continued. “I assume that your last comrade has the spirit of Dionysus or Hestia in them. Now run along.” Charles approached the door and looked back. “Don’t forget to disguise your weapons.” And with that he walked through the door.

    Delta attempted to wrap up his sword in his jacket so it wouldn’t be as noticeable. The jacket practically disintegrated at the sword's touch and he sighed in frustration. “How does he expect us to ‘disguise’ our weapons?” Delta set his sword on the table and shook his head. “I mean, seriously!”
    “At least some of us won’t have any problems disguising our weapons,” Cyndia muttered as she looped the belt around her waist and placed the mirror in her pocket. Hector tied the bag of marbles around a belt loop and sighed deeply.
    “Maybe there’s some secret mechanism that reduces its size,” Elaine suggested as she unfolded her shield to its full size.
    “Maybe,” Rory said. “But how are you supposed to know how to use it? All I got were a pair of Converse and a stick!” He thrust his ‘stick’ out in front of him and frowned. It was carved out of ivory and plaited with gold. It had a pair of wings near the top and two entwined snakes wrapped around its base.
    “That’s a caduceus you bimbo,” Elaine snapped as she folded her shield once more. “It’s a symbol for Hermes and used for healing purposes. I’d take care of it if I−” Elaine was cut short as she shrieked loudly.
    Rory began to bang the caduceus on the table repeatedly yelling, “It doesn’t work!” as he banged the staff with each syllable.
    “Cut it out!” Elaine yelled. Rory banged it about three more times before his thumb fingered one of the snakes. The snakes seemed to slither around the caduceus as they wrapped themselves around the whole staff. In seconds Hermes’s symbol was reduced to a clickable pen.
    “I disguised it!” Rory exclaimed as he clicked the pen experimentally. He wrote on his hand and yelled, “And it writes in gold ink!”
    “Not fair!” Delta said as he scowled. How am I supposed to disguise my sword?” He slammed the blade into the ground and a cracking sound reverberated around the room. He looked down at his sword with wide eyes and picked up a serrated edged knife with a crimson hilt. “Got it,” he said as he wrapped the blade in a scrap of his jacket and tucked it into his pocket.
    Patrick gripped his trident in two hands and experimentally moved his fists closer together. As he did so the trident shrunk until it was about the size of a key chain. He nodded approvingly and tucked the tri-pointed spear into his pocket.
    “What are you going to do about your hammer Terrance?” Sandra asked as she examined a pack of seeds in her hand.
    Terrance shrugged and said, “Eh, people know I do a lot of metal working so they probably won’t care.” He nodded towards Conrad and Selene who were pretending to shoot each other with arrows. “What about your bow and arrows?”
    “I’ll tell them I joined Selene’s club,” Conrad suggested. He hugged his bow close to his chest and it was an apparent a sign he was not going to let go of his new weapon.
    “Oh no,” Selene said redundantly. “You are not joining my club. Do you know how many girls are going to swarm in just because you joined?” She looked away and bore a hole into the floor. “It’s just stupid.”
    Conrad smiled uneasily. He didn’t look hurt but it was apparent that his sister’s words had truly injured him. “I don’t actually have to join you club, I’ll just say I’m joining it.” He leaned back in his chair and looked down gloomily. His eyes peered up slightly and he reached his hand in his still open drawer. Moments later, Conrad produced a pair of black sunglasses with a glossy finish. He immediately put them on with a genuine grin on his face. “Girls will definitely swarm me now. Guilty is charged.”
    Selene pretended to shoot Conrad with a finger gun and smiled at him. The bell for the end of school rang soon after and the sounds of feet shuffling outside in the halls were heard from the Student Council room.
    “I guess we can go now,” Hector said.
    Simultaneously they all stood and walked towards the door, remembering to carry their pouches along with them. Cautiously, Lorie peered out and opened the door widely for everyone to step through. “It was getting stuffy in there,” Lorie stated as she quickly pocketed a wax figure in her pouch away from prying eyes.
    “What now?” Cyndia asked as she fingered her new belt with a disgusted look.
    “Remember what Charles said?” Hector said. “Apparently we need to find a new comrade to join our little club. The real question is who to find.”
    “Well,” Elaine speculated, “Dionysus is the god of wine and Hestia is the goddess of the hearth. So basically all we need to find is a drunk guy or a fireplace shop owner.”
    Hector breathed in deeply and exhaled loudly. “Somehow, I don’t think it will be that easy. Where on earth are we suppose to find those people? For all we know they could be celebrities or a multimillionaire or−”
    “A homeless guy living on the street,” Rory joked as he comically slapped a knee.
    Conrad perked up. “Rory you actually might be on to something.” He shivered as he thought about that statement. “Wow, that’s a first.”
    “Really? I was just joking you know,” Rory said. He smiled crookedly and announced, “I’m actually becoming a genius.”
    “Let’s get back to something that’s actually possible,” Conrad said. “So we’re either looking for Dionysus or Hestia right? Well I think we have a contender for Dionysus.”