Dante & The Dark Seed

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Dante & The Dark Seed Page 3

by C. J. Pizzurro


  “Pretty sure my trap just caught something,” Dawayne said while speeding up. The closer they got, they could see that the trap had indeed caught a rabbit, and its pupils were dilated and filled with nothing more than the will to live.

  The rabbit tried its damnedest to escape the hold of the rope around its back feet, but all its efforts were in vain. The boys got closer, and while Dante stopped, Dawayne crept closer. The rabbit was terrified, and with every step Dawayne took, it kept running in circles, attempting to get away.

  “What are you going to do with that rabbit?” Dante asked, staring on with concern.

  “Well, you just buried the other one.”

  Dante shook his head. “Dude, really? I told you before, I don’t want to see this stuff!”

  Dawayne took another few small steps toward the animal.

  “You can turn around while I kill it.”

  “Or you can let it go!” Dante bellowed.

  Both the rabbit and Dawayne stopped moving and looked to Dante while Dawayne’s face on the other hand was expressionless.

  “You need to let it go for me. Dude, please,” Dante urged. Standing there for another moment, Dawayne looked at the rabbit and then to Dante.

  Dawayne pulled up his right pant leg, revealing a knife on his ankle, and walked closer to the rabbit. Never saying a word, Dawayne pulled out the blade and kneeled on the ground. Dante stood there biting his lip, hoping his friend would do the right thing. The rabbit continued to fight as Dawayne pulled it toward him and grabbed the animal by its feet.

  “Do the right thing, buddy,” Dante pleaded.

  Dawayne looked to Dante once more before he used his knife to cut through the rope. The rabbit ran as fast as its legs could carry it, kicking up leaves in its wake, while Dante exhaled a sigh of relief.

  “Are you happy now?”

  “Yep, now let’s head back. It’s starting to get a lot hotter.” And with that, Dante wiped his sweaty brow and came to help up his friend.

  “You know this whole killing animals thing is weird, right?”

  “Not really,” Dawayne said.

  “Well, I can act like it never happened. I just can’t know my friend does stuff like this and be okay with it.”

  Dawayne nodded. As the boys left the woods, not another word passed their lips, which made the journey seem much quicker than before.

  They found themselves back on the road heading home, where the sky was wide open, and not a single cloud was in sight.

  But to the dismay of Dante, the overly neighborly neighbors were still outside, tending to their garden that just so happened to have an assortment of flowers. But the flower that caught the eye of Dante was the very same flower he saw on the trail into the woods—the red impatiens.

  Dante saw them both hunched over, collecting pieces of plants they had pruned, but both of them were like foxes upon hearing the children’s feet shuffling down the street.

  They stood and squinted before the woman said, “Hello, boys,” with a smile on her face. “You look like you need some water.” Dante and Dawayne looked at each other, confident they were thinking the same thing before Dante spoke for both of them.

  “We’re not too far from home. No, thank you.”

  “Then you will have to try some of my delicious fudge,” she said as she jogged up the driveway and into the garage. The boys’ eyes widened at the sound of fudge.

  The man smiled and asked, “You boys like fast cars?”

  They looked up the driveway and saw a red Ferrari, so both of them started walking up to take a closer look.

  Dawayne put down his gun in awe of how the candy apple paint glistened.

  “Wow,” he said.

  Before they knew it, the woman had made her grand re-entrance with a large Tupperware container in hand.

  “So, you boys live here a while?” the man asked.

  “Yep,” Dawayne responded.

  The woman opened the container and held it out in front of them, but then she pulled the container back, asking, “You’re not allergic to nuts, are you?”

  “No, ma’am,” the boys said as they both reached in and took the biggest piece of fudge they could find. Both the boys hummed and hawed as their eyes rolled into the back of their heads.

  The man said, “Well, my name is Rip Tropfin, and this is my wife, Freya. We’ve lived here for a long time. How many years have we lived here, sweetie?”

  “Oh, about seventeen years.”

  Dante started to feel woozy. He looked at the fudge and then to Dawayne, but Dawayne was still digging in and even asked for another. Freya, with a menacing smirk, looked to Dante.

  “Is something wrong, little one?”

  She then turned to Dante, opening the container.

  “Here, why don’t you have another like your friend?”

  “Oh, boys, you don’t look too good,” Rip said.

  Dante began having problems turning his head while his vision waned, but he managed to see Dawayne’s legs beginning to buckle.

  Dawayne turned to Dante and said, “I think this may have been a bad idea.”

  Both Dante and Dawayne’s eyes got too heavy to stay open, and they both hit the concrete.

  The last thing Dante could hear was Freya saying, “They look like they’re going to be awfully sweet boys,” and the sound of the man called Rip snickering, then everything went dark.

  Chapter Four

  The Boys Who Lived

  Rip, with blood gushing from his leg, hobbled to the cabinet, ripping an unlabeled tonic from it. It reeked of iron as he squeezed the dropper six times into his mouth. As though a surge of electricity coursed through him, his body stiffened, and his pupils dilated. “Ah, yeah! That’s the stuff!”

  • • •

  Dante began seeing a familiar flood of ultraviolet colors and they began changing geometric shapes, many of which he had seen before in other dreams. Then he saw something before him, and because he had read a lot about Buddhism, he knew it to be a mandala. It shifted into a lotus flower, then gyrated and contorted, flashing in every color of the spectrum.

  Dante began hearing a sound, a crackling of sorts, like a fuse being lit. He ascended toward the floating floral pattern, and, as he did, a relaxing transcendental tone began. The tone kept rising in pitch until he could hear it no more.

  Dante cascaded through the kaleidoscope until he broke through a barrier, leaving the realm filled with ultraviolet colors, only to enter another realm of unspeakable magnificence. He had entered an etheric realm of light and love. All that he could see was covered in light, and everything he perceived before him was made of light. It was all-encompassing, leaving all of his worries behind. He felt no fear, only gratitude.

  The light dimmed, but only enough to see two luminous beings floating before him—similar to humans but with larger eyes. They smiled. Dante couldn’t fathom an experience where he felt more loved and welcomed.

  Together, the beings held out their light-laden arms and Dante followed their lead. He noticed that he, too, was covered in light, as he grabbed their hands. They closed their eyes and he followed suit. He felt a tingling sensation course into his forehead, and soon he could hear what he knew to be the thoughts of the beings.

  “We shall call you what those on Earth call you, Dante.”

  With their eyes still closed, the beings continued in conjunction. “You are meant for much more than saving rabbits, young one. You and others like you are capable of tethering a great light to the planet, healing it. But in order to change the world, you must first change yourself.”

  Another jolt of energy shot through Dante’s forehead, causing him to open his eyes, only to see that they, too, had opened theirs.

  Both of the beings then let go of Dante’s hands, and raised their fingers to his forehead, channeling, “Your carbon vessel isn’t safe now, so we must aid you in your journey back. Even before your birth, we appointed a Protector of the Light that will accompany you in the coming years
. Goodbye, Dante, we love you.”

  Everything before him faded, then he began hurling down into yet another kaleidoscope of fractals and colors until all he could see was darkness.

  He opened his eyes with the feeling that he had the best dream of his lifetime, but it seemed like a far-off place. He was in his room, and the clock on his nightstand read 1:11 PM. His mind began to race.

  It couldn’t have been much later than 11:00 when we came out of the woods. A sinking feeling made his stomach clench as he remembered passing out at the Tropfin’s house.

  “Who drugs two kids?!” Dante yelled without thinking whether his father was home or not. He sat up and looked down to see blood all over his legs and shoes. Dante felt around his body, checking to see if he was bleeding anywhere else.

  Dante took off his shoes to find both them and his socks drenched in blood. He ran out and into the hall yelling, “Anybody home? Dad?”

  Dante ran downstairs toward the garage, expecting the dog at the very least to be home. He turned the knob and threw the door open to see that his dad's car was gone.

  He paced, hoping Dawayne was okay, then ran to the sink and grabbed cleaning supplies and spent the next few minutes wiping up all the floors wherever there was blood.

  Dante then had a nice cool shower and watched the blood run down the drain in one long, pink stream. He got out of the shower, and, while staring at his reflection in the mirror, a jolt of energy coursed through his forehead, and the doorbell rang. He rushed to his closet, tossing on some clothes, and bolted downstairs.

  Dante turned the knob and opened the door to see Dawayne.

  “Well, you certainly clean up nice,” Dawayne joked, covered in even more blood than Dante was.

  “Go meet me inside the garage,” Dante said.

  As the garage door shut, both of them stared at one another.

  “What the frick happened?” Dante asked.

  Dawayne shrugged. “I have no idea, buddy. The last thing I remember was passing out in those people’s driveway.”

  “Yeah, same here.”

  “Whose blood is that?” Dante asked.

  Dawayne, not all fazed by how much blood he had on him, responded, “Well, it’s not mine. That’s for sure because I’m fine.”

  “So, you don’t remember anything either? Then how’d we get away?”

  “I have no idea, but what’s even weirder—I woke up while I was walking here.”

  “For real?”

  Dawayne nodded. “How’d you get here, then?”

  “I woke up in my bed.”

  “Well, aren’t you the lucky one,” Dawayne retorted while Dante ripped a black Chefty bag from the box, holding it open. “Take off your shoes and clothes and put them in this bag, for now. I can wash them before my dad gets home.”

  “Oh, crap,” Dawayne said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My knife is gone,” Dawayne said as he stood there, staring at his empty sheath.

  “I wonder which one of them you stabbed.”

  “The guy looked like a bleeder,” Dawayne joked.

  Leaving his friend to shower, Dante set out a towel and a change of clothes.

  “The Tropfin’s drugged us, so the clothes might be evidence,” Dawayne said as he got out the shower.

  Dante gave Dawayne one of his old favorites, a white shirt with a black wolf and some khaki shorts.

  “I just wonder where my dad is. The sooner we tell him, the better.”

  While Dawayne flipped on the telly, Dante took the gathered the bloodied clothes into the trash bag and headed downstairs as the sounds of skittering paws on the hardwood filled his ears. Thaddeus, then George came in, with Amy and groceries in tote, as the words BREAKING NEWS came across the screen.

  A woman reporter with a hand to her ear, stared into the camera, waiting with dark brown hair, for her cue.

  “This is Orella Kaleema, and we are live in front of Northgate Mall, where there was an active shooter earlier this Fourth of July afternoon. We have been informed that there were no casualties thanks to local schoolteacher Alec Coe. More at two.”

  “Where was that guy when we needed him earlier?” Dawayne joked.

  George placed the bag on the counter and looked at his son. Dante looked back with eyes wider than his father had ever seen.

  “Care to explain what’s in the bags, boys?”

  Chapter Five

  Rosebud

  “Now is a good time to start talking, boys,” George said.

  “Well…” Dante muttered.

  “What, son?”

  “Well, we got a lot of blood on our clothes, which is why they are in the bags.”

  “Well, did you catch something?”

  “Mr. Luciano, we don’t know who the blood belongs to, and we didn’t catch anything, Dante saw to that.”

  Well, that just throws a wrench in my plan of easing my dad into it, Dante thought. “So, within a minute of leaving the woods and heading home, we passed the Christmas house, or you’d know them as the people who drive the Ferrari.”

  “Never seen them, but okay,” George said.

  “They asked us if we wanted water and we said ‘no,’ so the woman named Freya ran and got fudge for us to eat.”

  “Freya got you two some fudge, and then?” George asked as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

  “And the last thing I remember is waking up here in my bed with my clothes covered in blood, and Dawayne was missing his knife. He doesn’t remember how he got back here either.”

  George stayed silent while his eyes were filled with both fury and shock.

  “And we’re pretty sure that the blood on the clothes belongs to the guy,” Dawayne said.

  “Why didn’t you call 911?”

  “How would we explain all the blood on our clothes, how Dante woke up in his bed, but I showed up at your front door?”

  “So, neither of you boys have any recollection of what happened?” George asked.

  Dante and Dawayne shook their heads.

  “Well, whatever happened to you two kids, I’m going to their house right now, and then I’m calling the cops. You two keep an eye on Amy.”

  • • •

  Two hours earlier, Freya looked at the two unconscious boys with a glisten in her eyes as they lay there on the driveway. “We can’t leave them here. Get them inside the garage.”

  Hunching, Rip grabbed Dawayne underneath the pits, then pulled him into the garage. “I’ve seen you lug boys heavier than him, so go on and help me, woman.”

  Freya huffed and dragged Dante to the garage, grunting along the way.

  “Use your legs, Freya, you’ll hurt your back that way.”

  “They are too heavy. You need to take them downstairs.”

  Freya walked past Rip through the door and into their house, without as much as looking at him.

  She walked up to her island in the kitchen, banging her fist on the marble behind the back left burner. The marble split in two. Freya then lifted the slab with ease, until it clicked into place. She swung open the wood panel to reveal a hidden stairwell.

  “Thank you, dear,” Rip said as he lugged Dawayne down the stairs.

  Making his way to the bottom, he let Dawayne’s limp body fall, then flipped a switch, illuminating their furnished basement and kitchen in the back. Rip headed back upstairs.

  “Can you get his feet? I don’t want to throw my back out.”

  Freya rolled her eyes and, while they brought Dante’s limp body downstairs, Rip sneered, “You know it wouldn’t have been fair if you wanted to enjoy these two later, especially if you were going to be so reluctant to help.”

  “I’m helping, aren’t I? And didn’t you say you want to get an elevator installed, what about that?”

  “We won’t be doing this for much longer,” Rip said as they plopped Dante next to his friend.

  Freya walked up the stairs, while Rip left the boys, and walked over to the bar. He grabbed a bottl
e of vodka, pouring himself a glass. Rip and Freya had gone to no expense getting a massive stainless steel industrial refrigerator and other high-class furnishings into their windowless basement. While Rip poured and helped himself to another drink, he stared at the boys, relishing the moment.

  He put his drink down and reached behind the industrial fridge, pressing a button. The fridge came forward, revealing yet another secret room, and the sounds of rattling chains echoed into the basement.

  “I hope you're being a good boy in there. You have some new roommates,” Rip said as muffled screams filled his ears.

  The room was lined from floor to ceiling in white tile, with a workstation in the front followed by a row of tile-covered cells. Rip walked past two of those empty cells, each with their own clear plexiglass door.

  Sounds of chains clinking and young ones muffled screams continued to reverberate throughout.

  “I thought I told you, that you need to be a good boy,” Rip said, making it to the third and the final cell to find the young man that had been making all the fuss. He was dark in complexion, no older than Dante and Dawayne. He sat there bound and gagged.

  Across from the boy lay another, blue and still.

  Rip left the cell open for now, heading toward the opposite end of the room where there was a metal door with a red skull and crossbones. Rip grabbed the cart underneath the metal door and pushed it to the third cell.

  He unshackled the cold boy and threw him onto the cart, then pushed him back toward the metal door, opening it.

  Rip heaved him above then pushed him down the hatch. Rip then pushed the cart out into the finished basement where the boys were. It was no later than half past noon when Rip put them both on the cart and pushed them back to the third cell.

  “Say hi to your new roommates!” Rip jeered, looking into the eyes of the terrified boy, then Rip pulled them back to the second cell.

  As the shackled boy looked on in horror, Rip slid the door open to the second cell where there were mounted chains left empty. He picked up Dante and leaned him against the wall, fastening the shackles. Leaving Dante’s mouth ungagged, Rip retrieved Dawayne’s body and brought him into the cell. But when he went to fasten Dawayne’s first arm, Rip heard a high-pitched buzzing noise coming from behind him.

 

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