Dante & The Dark Seed

by C. J. Pizzurro

  Dante’s whole body had begun to vibrate, rattling his chains. Then, his eyes and mouth opened, and a blinding light began pouring out.

  Rip's eyes were fixed and, for once, in the room behind the fridge, Rip was the one that was terrified.

  “What the hell?” Hearing more movement behind him, Rip turned to see that Dawayne was sitting upright. Dawayne opened his eyes but, unlike his friend’s, they were as black and dark as a moonless night.

  Dawayne tilted his head, gawking at Rip. “What in the hell?” Rip yelled again.

  “What in the hell, indeed, mortal,” Dawayne replied with guttural tone, not of this world.

  Chapter Six

  The Room Behind the Fridge

  Rip sat for quite a while with legs crossed, reading the day’s edition of the Chatham News in his leisure. Freya lounged not far away in the daybed by the window, soaking up the sun while reading a tome of her own. The doorbell rang, but it wasn’t at all like other doorbells. Each time the button was pressed, the beginning of Beethoven’s Fifth reverberated throughout the Tropfins’ home.

  Freya gave a gregarious grin as she rose to meet whoever was at the door. She dialed up her European accent to ten, opening the door, “Hallo, yas, how can I halp yew?”

  George Luciano stood there with his weight distributed between both legs. “Don’t bullshit me, lady, you know exactly why I’m here. My son and his friend said you and your husband drugged them.”

  Freya continued to smile. “Children and their imaginations.”

  George squinted his eyes. “I had a feeling someone would say that, which is why I called the cops.”

  As George stood there with his eyes on Freya, two sets of flashing red and blue lights came down the street and stopped right out front.

  Freya’s smile grew. “Adel, it’s lovely to see you.”

  George looked discouraged.

  “I wish we weren’t meeting under these circumstances, Freya,” Adel said.

  Adel Saleh was a handsome, strong-looking black man with a bald head and a rugged beard, while his pasty Irish cohort fell behind, keeping quiet for now.

  Adel stopped at the base of the stairs. “Mr. Luciano, I presume?”

  “You presume correctly, sir,” George said staring into Adel’s eyes, as they shook each other’s hand.

  “Adel Saleh, Chief of Police, and this is Officer Doug Bonner.”

  “Okay great, where do we go from here?”

  “Come, come into our home,” Freya said.

  Upon the uniformed men entering his home, Rip rose to his feet, while George’s eyes were drawn to the ornate owls above their cabinets.

  “Gentlemen, welcome. Adel, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Rip said, inviting them all in.

  “We are here on official duty, Rip.”

  “Very well.”

  “Would you gentlemen like a drink?” Freya asked.

  “I would, ma’am,” Bonner said.

  “No thanks, Freya. Bonner here won’t need any water either.”

  “No, but I’ll tell you what, I’m a sucker for sweets, and I hear you have some of the best fudge around, so I’m gonna need a piece of that,” Bonner said. “Tell ’em, Chief, I love me some sweets.”

  “Yeah, he does, I don’t know where you put it all. Martinez’s wife just made that tray of brownies for you two days ago,” Adel said.

  “Oh this last batch was no good. It’s too rich and will make you sick,” Freya insisted.

  “It wasn’t a request. We’ll be leaving with some fudge.”

  Freya grabbed a bag and pulled out the fudge from the fridge.

  “You only got the one kind?” Bonner asked.

  Freya nodded.

  “Only the one,” she said as she placed a piece into the bag, handing it to Officer Bonner with the fakest of smiles.

  “Thank you, ma’am, I’m going to enjoy this later tonight after dinner.”

  “Officer Bonner and I are going to need to take a look around the house.”

  “Straight to business today. I respect that. Please follow me,” Rip said.

  Adel turned to George and said, “Please stay here for a moment while we take a look around.”

  And as soon as they were out of George’s sight, he took a little stroll around the kitchen. The backsplash that wrapped around the sink had a black and white checkerboard pattern, and it glimmered as George walked around the island. He looked at all the owl statues. Quite odd they were, but his eyes were drawn to a gold owl that had its right eye closed, above their fridge. “What’s the point of that?” George mumbled.

  Soon, Rip, Freya, Adel, and Bonner came back.

  “We also will need to take a look downstairs,” Adel said as he rounded the corner.

  Saying nothing, Rip walked past George into the kitchen, balled up his fist, and thumped the counter one good time behind the left burner.

  Both George and Officer Bonner looked perplexed, but Adel had the look of a man that wanted to get this over with. The slab separated then Rip opened it revealing their concealed basement.

  “Hmm,” George said in awe while Officer Bonner nodded his head in approval.

  “Show us the way,” Adel said.

  Freya and Rip led the men down to their furnished basement, while George looked around for any inclination that his son had been there. Adel walked into the kitchen, and as he passed the fridge, the bound boy in the back rattled his chains.

  “You hear that?” Adel asked.

  Everyone was silent until Officer Bonner said, “Nope, I don’t hear anything, Chief.”

  “Oh, I thought I heard something,” Adel said, dismissing his inclination and kept on walking through the kitchen. Adel walked back to the base of the stairs. “Everything seems to check out. Mr. Luciano, we can give you a ride back to your place.”

  “Wait, so that’s it?”

  “Hop in my car,” Adel said. “I’ll take you home.”

  “I can get in the passenger seat right?”

  “Sure, you can,” Adel said with a smirk.

  “I’ll follow you, Chief”

  “Copy that, Bonner.”

  Before George even had his seatbelt on, he cleared his throat, saying, “I’m gonna be honest with ya, Adel, I really thought you were going to be more partial with them.”

  Adel put the key in the ignition, turned it, and said, “You seem like a good guy wanting to be a good dad so, between me and you, I don’t completely trust that they are above board.”

  “Well if I’m being honest with ya, Adel, my son wouldn’t make up stuff like that. He’s the kind of kid that just wants to believe the best in people, ya know, give them the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Yeah, I could say the same about my son. He’d be turning eleven this year,” Adel said with a longing in his eyes.

  “Oh, so you have a son Dante’s age?”

  “He’s been missing for a few months,” Adel said.

  “Oh, man, I’m so sorry….”

  “Well with your kid’s testimony, blood sample, and the piece of fudge, I’m hoping we can prove they are tied somehow to the missing children in the area.”

  “Children?” George asked.

  “I’m not supposed to be telling any of this to you because it’s an ongoing investigation, and my kid isn’t the only one missing. The Tropfins’ are really well connected; they’ve even hosted fundraising events for the police force, which is how I know them so well.”

  “We’re a little farther up the street the house with a basketball hoop out front,” George said.

  George and the Officers went into the house.

  “Dawayne, the police are here,” Dante said.

  Dawayne walked into the front hall.

  “You must be Dawayne,” Adel said.

  “You must be perceptive. Dante did just say my name,” Dawayne said.

  Adel snickered, hunched down a little, and said, “Your friend’s dad gave us the details of what happened today, but I want to hear it
from you two.”

  From the look on Dante’s face, George could tell his son was a tad, unassured. “Before we get started, this is Adel, the Chief of Police, and he wants to get down to the bottom of this. He’s a good guy.”

  “Hey now, I'm a good guy, too,” Officer Bonner joked.

  Adel asked, “So what happened guys?”

  “Well, what do you know about what happened to us?” Dante asked.

  Adel said, “Well, I know you two accused those people of drugging you.”

  “We’re not accusing them. They drugged us with the fudge,” Dawayne chimed.

  “Are there any other details you remember that could help?”

  “Oh, crap, I forgot about my gun,” Dawayne divulged.

  “What about your gun?” Adel asked.

  “Before we ate the fudge, I put my gun down while Rip talked to us about his car. They had to have taken it.”

  Officer Bonner took out a pad of paper and pen and began writing.

  “The last thing I remember is the woman talking about how sweet we looked, and then I hit the ground,” Dante said.

  “Yup sounds about right,” Dawayne added.

  Adel looked at the two young men, prying, “Is there anything else that you can remember?”

  Dante knew it best to conceal the fact that he woke up in bed, and that Dawayne came to while walking to his house. The boys glanced at each other than shook their heads.

  Adel exhaled. “So, how did you boys get away?”

  The boys’ eyes grew wider.

  They hadn’t planned on the cops asking that.

  “They don’t remember how they got free or how they made it back. They came to, covered in blood that wasn’t their own,” George said.

  “And we’re pretty sure it’s Rip’s blood,” Dawayne included.

  Adel looked at George, cogitating. “Do you still have the bloody clothes?”

  “It’s like someone was watching over them, Chief,” Bonner said nudging Adel. “Kinda like those bumper stickers I like. You know the ones that say, ‘Jesus, take the wheel.’ How else would they get away?”

  Adel looked at the table and rubbed his beard, contemplating.

  “I could see why you wouldn’t want to say anything, boys. At first glance, all of this would be crazy to most people but you’re lucky because I’m not most people. I’m going to need you two to come to the station with me, so we can take a sample there. And we need those blood-soaked clothes.”

  Dante handed Adel the heavy bags, as George grabbed the car seat for Amy.

  “You ready?” Adel asked looking at George.

  Patting his pockets, George muttered, “Phone, wallet, keys, kids. We’re good to go.”

  Amy babbled in Dante’s arms as he and Dawayne walked out the front door. With George at the rear, Thaddeus came to say his goodbyes, whining.

  “Be a good boy and protect the house,” George said.

  And while everyone got into the car, Thaddeus stared at them through the window, panting, pacing, as they got in the car and drove off.

  Chapter Seven

  Manifest Destiny

  In the realm on high, two of the most luminous beings conversed over an order the other couldn’t comply. With their backs turned, a feminine figure forged in fluorescence forewent not telling her truth, “It’s not yet their time for us to make ourselves known, Michael.”

  Michael put his luminous hands on his waist. “The Creator made us to serve and serve I must. He knows not what it is to transpire, and it must be made known to him, Azrael.”

  “All in their time, Michael, all in their time.”

  “He doesn’t have much time himself, but you would know that if you spent more time on Earth with the humans,” Michael said.

  “There are many planetary systems that need watching.”

  “A darkness has fallen over their land that dwarfs the others. They know not of the light they carry…. He can save them, and you know this to be true, Azrael,” Michael pleaded.

  “Not alone, he can’t. And he will need help from the others. They have yet to have yet to awaken, and awaken they must before we render aid to them.” As Azrael finished, a gust caught hold of her golden hair.

  “He needs to know that he is not alone.”

  “He has his friend for now,” Azrael suggested.

  “But you know as well as I, he will sway.”

  Azrael turned, showing her radiant face. “Is that not the irony of physical life? His closeness to the darkness will bring him closer to the light, as it always has.”

  “We already meddled in their karmic cycle by removing him from danger, but I will make myself, and myself alone, known to him,” Michael said as his brilliance intensified.

  Azrael looked to him with a loving glow of her own, telling him, “If that is what you so choose, you know I will support you, Michael.”

  Michael turned his back to Azrael, closing his eyes. His luminosity began to dim, causing him to fall through the surface of light they stood upon, and began falling through a cylindrical tunnel filled with a kaleidoscope of colors, bending inward on itself. Every part of Michael, from his luminous locks to his fulgent feet, dimmed until he looked human.

  His locks had become dark brown while his skin was now olive-toned. Michael, staring headfirst toward the end of the tunnel, begun hearing crackles of static.

  In a field in the middle of nowhere, Michael exited the wormhole, and massive wings of light emerged from his back, catching the wind.

  Michael soared around for a moment, adoring everything his eyes gazed upon.

  “What a present.” He glided down toward the grass, where his feet were greeted by each blade. His wings of light vanished and he felt a surge of energy jolt through his body.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why a human as smart as Schumann needed to name that after himself.” Michael looked down at the rest of his body and knew what would work for the town of Pittsboro. He lifted his hand to his shoulder, and with a wave, clothes materialized. First, a white tank top, then a pair of light-blue jean shorts, and a pair of Ferkenstock sandals clasped his feet.

  Michael wriggled his toes and snapped his fingers, causing him to vanish and reappear in an alleyway. He exited and walked to the crosswalk where he could see the old town courthouse. He walked to the street corner, soaking up the rays, waiting.

  • • •

  Dante could see the old courthouse in the distance as they got closer and closer to the Pittsboro police station. He felt pulled to look to his right and as he did, he saw Michael staring at him through the window. He smiled at Dante, then time seemed to slow down as Dante made eye contact.

  As Dante stared into the eyes of the towering man, he received a message, You are never alone, Dante. Remember your light.

  Dante had no idea what was happening. His eyes began to bug as he began seeing flashes of light and vivid imagery from what he thought were his dreams from earlier, but it was only a flash and the memory soon faded.

  Dante blinked, and time sped back up, but the man was no longer there.

  Dawayne tapped Dante on the leg, asking, “Dude, did you see that nerd in the jean shorts?”

  Dante brushed it off. I’m never alone? Did that guy have anything to do with how we got away?

  Adel pulled into a parking lot, and Adel stood near the front doors. “C’mon boys, we need to head inside,” Adel said, corralling the boys into the door.

  Amy nestled her head into George’s chest.

  Adel would go on and get blood samples, and every bit of testimony he thought he needed to nail the Tropfins. But, he’d also receive an anonymous threat that if he didn’t lose the entirety of the evidence, he’d never see his son again. Even the possibility that Adel and his family could once more be whole, was enough for the boys to agree to lose the evidence. And all they could do was hope.

  Chapter Eight

  ’Til I See You Again

  It wasn’t long after the boys were
kidnapped by the Tropfins that they were both enrolled in Brazilian jiu-jitsu.

  In no time, they moved up through the ranks. The days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned into years. Along the way, the boys took other classes and researched other martial arts, in addition to taking a few months of boxing together.

  While Dante learned what he did, Dawayne was drawn to the more brutal Krav Maga. But regardless of how much they beat each other up, the boys kept coming back for more throughout the years.

  • • •

  But while the boys were free, the same couldn’t be said for the young man with dark skin who had gotten the brunt end of the deal. Rip had long considered keeping his word to his old friend, but three years had passed and he still kept his son captive.

  “Pipe down, boy,” Rip demanded, as the young man screamed through the gag in his mouth.

  Rip and Freya had slowed their habit of acquiescing children, so instead they focused their efforts on the young man that put an end to them being investigated, and what led to Adel losing his job.

  The young man kept trying to make his voice heard.

  “Boy, after all these years, I thought you would have learned by now that I don’t like it when you make a racket. It will end poorly for you.”

  The boy’s eyes widened as he quieted himself. Rip removed a small and mysterious electrical device from the cabinet, wiping a thick layer of dust from it, as the boy sat there bound.

  Rip pulled the cord from around the device and brought it over, placing it in front of the young man. He plugged it in and pressed the switch, then a vertical row of lights lit up. With another flip of a switch, the lights began moving from side to side. “I’m going to take this off now, so if you make any noise or talk out of turn….”