-Where is my son? -a mother asked amidst the crowd gathered around the council of elders.
The meeting had summoned ten citizens from each of the fifty strongest tribes. They had come together due to urgent circumstances, as many children had been disappearing in the middle of the night. No matter how hard the parents searched, they found no traces on the plaster walls or signs of struggle. They only saw the door wide open.
-We know how hard it is to lose a child in this way -began the eldest of the council-. My grandson was caught up in this wave of abductions. The recent war between two cities has devastated us as small city-states. Even so, the king has requested soldiers to be assigned for the search. We will not let our society fall.
-The abductions are happening in four other distant cities -said another council member.
-They've reported sightings near the forest of... near the beach of... A fisherman friend told me he saw figures moving in the darkness at midnight -added a farmer.
The discussions and plans of action continued as expected: many ideas, but few actions. Among the crowd was an eight-year-old boy named Palestís. At such a young age, he had already begun his military training. Not even that strict training could keep him from feeling fear as he watched his friends being abducted one by one.
-Mom -he said to a woman shouting insults at the parliament. Ignored, he tugged firmly on her tunic.
-What do you want, Palestís? -she asked, irritated.
-I don't want to be taken -he said, his hands trembling.
-Neither do I -she said, stroking his head with a bit of affection-. That's why we're fighting, so they'll heed our pleas.
-Let's go home, son -said his grandfather, who had just arrived-. Let your mother stay here and tell us later how the meeting ended.
The boy nodded and said goodbye to his mother. She gave him a light hug and turned back to the council. His grandfather took him by the hand to lead him away from the agitated crowd.
As they descended the plaza stairs and reached the meadow, the smell of grass and the starry sky calmed the boy. Seeing this, his grandfather sat on the ground and gestured for him to do the same. Palestís sat and closed his eyes. He prayed to the gods that all the children would be safe and return home soon.
A slight tremor shook the boy and his grandfather, and after that, an overwhelming fatigue made it difficult for them to breathe. When he opened his eyes, Palestís saw a man before him, clad in an entirely black chiton with a patch over his left eye. His grandfather seemed terrified, but Palestís let out a small laugh at the sight of the man wearing a peplos, typically women's clothing.
-Thanatos? -his grandfather asked-. Have you come for me?
The pressure in the air slowly faded until it was no longer felt.
-I don't know who that is -said the man with a smile-. I'm only here for the meeting about the missing children.
As he stared intently at Palestís, he approached him. Up close, the boy noticed that the man's only visible eye was completely white with a strange glow.
-You're very lucky to still be here, boy. I'll only give you one piece of advice for when you need it most. I know you'll need it. In the darkness, remember that friends often become thieves of our time.
Having said this, he headed toward the meeting at the agora, blending into the crowd. When Palestís looked at his grandfather, he noticed that he was already standing.
-Let's go home; the night might trap us. If we stay in this open field, I feel something else could happen.
Palestís nodded, and they began their journey. He, too, felt something might happen if they stayed there. The silence of the night unsettled him, as if the immense darkness of the forest bordering the field was watching him. They walked for half an hour until they reached the farmlands, where his father worked when not at war. As they walked through the wheat fields, Palestís heard a familiar voice calling to him:
-Come.
-Did you hear that, Grandpa?
The old man shook his head, puzzled.
-You're tired. Go to bed.
Palestís obeyed. He went to his room and lay on the floor, maintaining his training discipline. Through his small window, he gazed out and couldn't believe that his peaceful city, Epinoiméni, was enduring such a situation. The night cradled the uneasy boy in his cold bed, carrying him to the realms where imagination makes all things possible. A wolf howled in the distance, and a moth fluttered against the boy's window.
He slowly opened his eyes and saw, to his terror, a strange shadow projected from the window. It appeared human, but upon noticing the boy was awake, it ducked out of sight. His heart racing, Palestís got up and hesitantly approached the window. The utter silence made him feel immersed in the situation, as if darkness had swallowed everything, leaving him alone in the scene.
He saw only a hand and part of a head. The silent wind outside slightly moved a single visible strand of hair.
-What do you want? -asked Palestís in a defiant tone, contrary to what he truly felt.
-Come -said the childish voice, beckoning him-. Or do you want to keep training only to be sent to a war where you'll die for no reason?
-I'll die with honor -he said, clenching his fists.
-Honor doesn't exist, friend. Let our white mother grant you the chance to join us.
-Was she the one who took my friends?
-Mother hasn't stolen anyone, Palestís. We all accepted her grace without resistance. We were tired of training to die; now we play and enjoy ourselves forever.
Hearing this, the boy became agitated. That child knew him, and the voice belonged to one of his missing friends. The figure began to rise in the window, revealing an abnormally large face, pointed ears, and an enormous mouth full of sharp teeth dripping a dark liquid. Its dirty clothes reeked from a distance; the boy recognized it as a friend from training. Filled with terror, Palestís ran to the door to escape the house.
Through the hallway connecting his room to the dining area, he heard an elder groan in pain.
-Grandpa! -he shouted.
-Run, Palestís! -cried his grandfather, crawling through the kitchen, bloodied. Entering the dining area, Palestís saw his grandfather legless, and in the back, two deformed children devouring them.
-Run! Don't stop for anything!
Palestís cried and dashed to the door.
-Why didn't you accept the gift? -the cannibalistic children asked in unison-. It would've been so much easier.
Letting out a scream, Palestís flung the door open. Terror made him wet himself. Hundreds of those children were in the wheat field, erratically walking toward the house.
-Come, friend. Everything's easier here. We eat whatever we want, and no one forces us to train until we cry -said another, even more familiar voice. Turning around, he saw his lifelong best friend, Chaménos, the last to disappear.
-If you had accepted, no one would've gotten hurt.
The black saliva burned the grass where it fell. Palestís ran, dodging the children as they slowly approached him. Jumping over a stream irrigating the field, he looked back and saw a child carrying his grandfather's head in their hands.
Palestís ran toward the council, his heart racing and breathing labored. He saw how the forest surrounding the meadow filled with glowing eyes. Under the moonlight, the eyes quickly approached, revealing themselves to belong to the children with sharp teeth and oversized heads. They laughed and drooled. There were likely hundreds of children staring at him.
The eight-year-old boy couldn't stop crying as he ran in terror. Upon reaching the Argón, the plaza where meetings were held, he quickened his pace, searching for the adults gathered there. However, everything was silent. The tumult was gone, and a suspiciously white light illuminated the area. Climbing the stairs, he saw with horror the patio of the plaza: hundreds of mutilated bodies surrounded an enormous white figure with golden glimmers.
The light prevented him from seeing it clearly, appearing as a white blur. From the sounds, it seemed to be chewing. Looking around, he found his mother, devoured up to her chest, her face frozen in horror.
Exhausted, he fell to his knees and wept bitterly. His cries were drowned out by the laughter of the deformed children.
He closed his eyes, and hundreds of teeth consumed him.
From afar, atop a mountain, a black figure shook its head and closed a book.
