Here is the dark secret that made him the person he was...
The grey clouds rumbled. Not from Zeus's influence, now that the might of Kronos was reclaiming the sky. Luke Castillan glared the school with a determined face, his cold ashy eyes set. He was chosen for the job.
The son of Zeus finished up his math test. He probably had every question in the bag, except for the last. He just didn't have enough time to draw out the graph.
He followed his friend out of the room. She took his hand and brought him out to the campus. There, she grinned wildly and placed a paper hat on his head. God, he loved her. Her flashing yellow eyes and auburn hair were swept around in the wind. A fallen leaf was trapped in her mane.
She pecked his cheek goodbye, and left him standing in the grass. The air snaked around him, twisting and kidnapping and demolishing those towers of raked leaves, which the janitor had spent all afternoon putting together.
He found the note on his front door. A wet sheet nailed with a skinny bronze stiletto. Soggy words melting off the pages in the rain.
Luke dragged the girl, who was struggling and screaming into the tape. He placed her at the back, beside the two Cyclopes who'll keep her in place. No doubt she was clear-sighted. Her reaction to his sword was proof enough. That made her dangerous, if she wasn't already. Her connection to the outcast sky child was useful.
Luke took out a pre-typed message. There was an invitation, and an address, and a time. The last words, She'll be there.
He told the mortal driver to hold the note up to the door. Luke removed a sharp metal weapon from a box on his seat. He took aim, and threw.
He stood, shivering under a bridge. No cars were out. The kidnapper didn't even give a ransom fee.
He saw a tall, gaunt man with a scar slashed across his cheek step under the bridge, on the other side of the river. He had the look of a person who made sure to eat healthily, but often forgot when. Or someone who took the time to wash his face, but neglected to comb his hair.
The strange man, actually quite young at a second glance, motioned for someone to step forward. Isaline was pushed into view, her auburn hair tied back to keep from whipping in her face. Her golden irises pulsed with fear, but trust and a sort of calmness. Calm and sure he would save her.
The son of Zeus kept his face passive. "What do you want for her?" he shouted across the rumbling river.
The kidnapper stared straight back at him, right into his eyes. His scarred lips moved. "Join us."
This was unexpected. Something bad was going to happen, he's certain. "I don't know what you mean, I don't know anything!"
The scarred lips curled up. "Do you know anything about Greek Mythology?"
The boy's face blanched. So he knew of his heritage, after all. Well, it would just make things simpler
"I know much," he replied. "I will never join the titans, so let her go!"
Luke raised his eyes. "Who said we were working for Kronos?"
The boy muttered something about his mother keeping tabs to keep him safe.
Luke rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter anyways. Join us, or the girl dies."
Those eyes seemed charged with electrical hatred. "And if I don't?"
Luke didn't have to make a comeback. The girl spoke up. "I'll die!" she shrieked.
He stared at the stranger, who had his hands on Isa's neck. "I won't join Kronos. Ever. You're ruining my life."
He still had the knife that pinned the message into his world. He drew it out from behind him.
The stranger laughed. "What will you do with that, swim over and poke me?"
He shook his head adamantly. "I'll do what I feel is best."
He threw the blade. It impaled itself in Isa's chest, and she started coughing. Her kidnapper released his grip on her neck, and she fell.
He caught her eyes before she hit the water. Traitor, written clearly in every corner of her pupils.
'He killed her', Luke thought. 'I didn't know he had the strength. But as clear as it is that he will never join us, he'll never join Jackson, ever. His murder will scar him, until he hits the grave.'
The boy looked at the water. No blood, all washed away by the river. Carrying her body to the sea. "I had no guarantee you'd give her a painless death."
Luke gave a cruel smile, though he felt uncomfortable. "Still, you killed her."
He left the boy kneeling at the water, alone. He'd find his way home. He came here, after all.
The son of Zeus adamantly refused to acknowledge any of his heritage. Perhaps that oppression is what muffled his demigod scent. He looked straight ahead everytime he saw magic.
He never went to Long Island.
He kept her death a secret. When her parents rushed to the school the next day, scrambling and frantic that she never came home, he said nothing.
He was a murderer. But he gave her a painless end.
He did nothing for the rest of his life. Nothing happy, nothing sad. All balanced, uneventful. He earned quite a bit, investing in stocks. Grey tie and polished black shoes. That was how he grew up.
She had a funeral service. He didn't attend, calling in sick. But he watched them bury an empty coffin from the fence of the graveyard.
He still had potential in him, but he resolved never to touch a single strand of it.
Creepier than the first chapter. I'll have to raise the rating from K to T. Does this answer your questions concerning the unnamed?