I sat in the back of a black sedan, while the blonde drove.

            “I’m Dorothy and this is Rebecca,” she said over her shoulder by way of introduction.

            “I’m Ethan.”

            “We know.”  She said.

            “What else do you know?  Why are they after me?  Who are they?” I asked.  She knew what I meant immediately.
            “They were sent to kill you.  Barring that, they had to do their best to take away your resources.  Unfortunately for them, our mentor brought us along.”

            “So you’re here to explain what’s happening?” I hoped.

            “As much as we know.”  The brunette, Rebecca, said.  “We’re just being trained ourselves.”

            “Why did they kill my uncle?”

            “He was meant to teach you.  He was only waiting until you were older, so he could be sure you found your faith.  Now, we’re running out of time.”  Dorothy said.

            “So, what, he was supposed to be my Obi Wan Kenobi?”

            The black-haired one laughed.  “Something like that.”

            “I know I’m supposed to go with you.”

            “Good.  That part’s easy, anyway.”  Rebecca said. “I didn’t know how we’d convince you.”

            “It would have been impossible, yesterday.”  I admitted.  “This seems like the start of every action movie ever made. ‘ Mysterious stranger gives clueless hero a quest.’  Right now I’m thinking this is very ‘Last Starfighter.’  Are you going to replace me with a clone?”

            “What if we told you that every story you ever enjoyed had a purpose?”  Dorothy suggested, ignoring my irreverent question.

            “I studied symbolism.  I know a lot of people think that stories contain messages from the collective unconscious about the secret hopes and dreams of all humanity, and that most of those symbols originate in the Bible,” I said.  “I’m not stupid.”

            “No one said you were,” Rebecca assured me.  “But that’s not what we mean.”

            “God is the Creator.  All creativity, inspired by the Spirit, somehow flows from that.  It might get turned around by the person channelling it, but God is always in there somewhere,” Dorothy continued.

            “Thereby inspiring the secret meanings of the stories to educate mankind, I get it,” I said, almost bored.

            “No.  We’re trying to tell you that your favourite stories, no matter who wrote them, no matter when, they were all written specifically for you.”  Dorothy snapped.

            “To make you ready.”  Rebecca said softly. 

            “Ready for what?”  I asked.  “You haven’t exactly gotten to that part yet.”

            “Throughout history there have been times of great darkness.  At those times, God chooses judges, or champions, to fight back against darkness.”  She went on.

            “Like Samson.”  I nodded.  I had been reading about Samson.  The Bible says the Spirit made him move, the way it had been guiding me.

            “Yes.  But even outside the Bible.  You’ve heard of Robin Hood, Zorro, the Musketeers, the knights of Camelot?”

            “Who hasn’t?  But those are just stories.”

            “Some stories are based on truth.  They just get commercialized.” Dorothy said, steering the car.  Countryside flowed past.

            “We represent an organization that discovers these heroes, and helps them to achieve their destiny.  The world is filled with lies and doubt, and we take a stand for true faith,” Rebecca said.

            “This is all great exposition, but it still doesn’t help me.  I get it, I’m the dumb hero for this action flick.  But what am I supposed to do?”

            “Ever hear of vampires?”  Rebecca said, looking at me over her shoulder.

            I laughed, long and hard.  “I was hoping for something more like Lord of the Rings.  You’re casting me for Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

            “It’s much worse than that,” Dorothy said, hitting a highway and speeding up.

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