For more than ten thousand years ago, a group of shamans and witches sealed an ancient spirit of chaos in the
underground of a valley. The spirit was called CYOC, and their power was to create chaos transforming beings
according to the imagination of humans. He could not create anything, so he fed on ignorance and prejudice to
accomplish its evil deeds.
CYOC waited patiently until changed by humanity itself and forget that he existed and finally freed from his
prison. The years became decades, the decades turned into centuries, the centuries turned into millenniums,
until one day a group of enterprising businessmen decided to build a new mall in the small town of
Springvalley, which was once the site of the final battle against CYOC.
While the mall's foundations were dug, the workers ended up breaking an unsuspecting of charms that held the
spirit, as they rushed to finish early in a Saturday.
The awakening of CYOC was quick and discreet. Around the time that had passed in prison, the world had changed
a lot and there was also little changed. There were people from many different type, men of reason and men of
faith, but still had a lot of prejudice about each other.
"This world can still change much." Said the old spirit. He felt that his brothers or had moved away, died or
been imprisoned. Mankind had lost their fear of the old spirits, and was master of the world. "I have much
work to do." Said the spirit, while exploring the town.
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Fred and Zach were playing video games at home, both were students at the local college nineteen years old.
Fred was studying pedagogy and was a descendant of Irish with red hair, while Zach was studying law and had
blond hair. Both were fans of gangster games and hip hop culture and dressed accordingly, but were just
ordinary kids.
"It is better to take a break, I have a paper to deliver tomorrow and need to study." Zach said pausing the
game, and both Fred heard the phone ringing.
"Oh my god, I forgot I had set to meet with Pamela at the gym." Fred said answering the phone worried.
"This girl has trained to obey you pretty fast huh?" Zach said laughing, then immediately decided to go in the
bathroom while her friend answered the phone.
Moments later, when Fred was still turned the phone over his expression had changed. Fred was a pretty relaxed
and carefree, but now his face was tense and angry, he was talking on the phone with someone and swearing a
lot. Will was having a fight with Pam? Anyway there was something different about him, his designer clothes
looked old and ratty, made ​​of inferior material. He looked more muscular than a few moments there and he did
not remember that Fred had done tattoos on his arms.
Suddenly he finished the call and turned to Zach. "We have work to do. Come on." He said while wearing a
hoody. For a moment Zach thought Fred had spoken with a ghetto accent very authentic.
"Where do we go? You were not going to the gym?"
Fred looked strange to Zach and kept walking. Figuring it was some problem with Pam, Zach followed to help.
When they arrived at the car of Fred, was a different car, an older model, with paint worn but with chrome
hubcaps and a super expensive sound system.
"What a nice car! Seems real gangster car." Zach said they immediately got another look at Fred.
"You're on drugs mate? You are talking like a suburban kid." He said with a deep voice and again making a
ghetto accent.
Both got into the car, Zach was concerned. If you did not know better I would say that Fred was more like a
true criminal and not a well educated college student. Suddenly he felt a chill and like an invisible hand had
tapping him. His clothes have suffered the same change of clothes from Fred, and he felt a gun appearing in
his pocket, his hair was braided in cornhows, the violence of the streets got inside his mind, turning Zach on
what and the rappers sing about, a true thug.
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A young web designer parked his Lexxus in front of the Home Depot. Jeff was a descendant of immigrants from
Mexico and was always sad to see the dozens of illegal piled up in front of the store to work as day laborer.
Unfortunately few of them have the same chance that his grandfather had, but those were different times, and
Jeff was an American citizen in the way of realizing the dream. He had his own company and was renovating his
new home.
While walking from his car to the store door, a fat guy in a truck pulled up next to him and shouted " YARD
WORK ? Huh, ...Trabajar ...en el jardín! 10 bucks hour. "
" Sorry pal, i am an American citizen. " Said Jeff with his perfect american accent.
"I'm sorry then." Said the fat before being surrounded by a crowd sweaty after work.
Jeff went on his way a rather annoyed, when he went to Home Depot he was confused with a day laborer just
because he was Hispanic, no matter the clothes he was wearing. Jaff deep breath and continued toward the door
and felt a hand on his shoulder, turned around but there was nobody. Was he imagining things?
Jeff continued his way and began to walk the store looking for things that come to buy. He had a list that the
contractor had given him the necessary material, but it was hard to read. The words seemed strange, as if in
another language. Jeff then approached a store clerk, a man of southern appearance. When looked at Jeff he
seemed impatient and angry, he murmorou something that Jeff did not understand.
"Please, you can look at this list and see if you recognize any material? I think I hired is a foreigner who
does not speak our language." Jeff said, surprised that his speech was a Latin accent. The clerk took the list
and looked for a while and finally said.
"The friend list is right, your boss should have sent someone who could read English better. Do not worry I'll
put it all together for you." Said the attendant relieved not to have to continue in the presence of Jeff.
"Gracias." Said Jeff unconsciously. He had only understood that the clerk would provide the materials for him.
While waiting, he looked at his feet and saw she was wearing a kind of worn leather sandals. He was sure he
had footwear shoes when he left home, his pants looked different too, thick and dirty jeans. Searched in a
bathroom mirror's lane and saw what was actually dressed as a day laborer. What could be happening? He looked
around and could not read anything on any board, all were in a strange language. Panicked and ran out the
store, tried to return to your car, but did not find the keys in your pocket, just a bus card.
Jeff was in despair, looked around and saw a number of day laborers standing talking. Jeff had never learned
to speak Spanish, but I could understand perfectly what they were talking. They wore the same kind of clothes
he was wearing old clothes to good hard work.
He was becoming one of them? What a ridiculous stereotype, these illegal workers were only a small proportion
of Latinos living in america. Sociologically it was ... it was ... What means this "sociologically" word again
? Jeff was regressing in education, his post-graduate degree in webdesign was turning into the education of a
high school drop-out and even that was decreasing.
Jeff felt a mustache forming on his face, some teeth fell from his mouth and others became decayed. His hands
were calloused from hard work, had his arms the muscles of a member of the working class and a beer belly.
Jeff felt dizzy and when he realized he had entered into a van. It seemed that would be taken to a farm
outside the city, Jeff was happy that work and he would have lasted more money for the rent of the month.
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CYOC was just beginning, this new world would be his to torment. Where CYOC should seek new victims? It was
then that he felt his name being called, would exist followers of his in this age ? CYOC laughted hard, it was
time for some changes.