Dante & The Dark Seed

by C. J. Pizzurro

  What is going on?

  Dante made it outside, finding a nice place in the shade to sit. Distraught yet gracious, he sat there, not saying a word.

  “So, what happened?” Anora asked.

  Dante’s eyes widened.

  “Honestly, I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.”

  “You should try me.”

  “Ya know what, that’s fair, but just wait until my dad isn’t around. He usually gets weirded out talking about things like this. It’s cliché, but it’s kind of a long story.”

  “It’s cliché, but I like long stories.”

  Cara mia, Dante thought while George came up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and looking at Anora.

  “I see my boy didn’t scare ya off, must’ve made quite the impression before he passed out on the floor.”

  “No, him passing out on the floor is what did it for me,” Anora joked.

  George laughed, unable to control himself, and Amy joined in while the two lovebirds smiled at one another.

  “Now that’s funny,” George said, slapping his leg. “So, do you go to school around here?”

  “I’m going to State in the fall.”

  George, impressed, pulled up a chair.

  “What’s your major?”

  “Something in religious studies.”

  “Sounds right up Dante’s alley.”

  Dante stared at his dad with a wide and a goofy grin in hopes he would quit the onslaught of questions.

  George got the hint.

  “I’m gonna give you kids some air and take this little one to the café.”

  “I want a pretzel,” Amy said.

  “One pretzel coming right up, but only for the little ladies that say the magic word.”

  “Please, Dad.”

  George took Amy by the hand, leading her inside.

  “You wanna go grab a bite, Anora?” Dante asked.

  “Yeah, but I’d rather go somewhere down the street. And I planned on going to the arboretum later if you’d like to join me.”

  Dante sat there smiling, not yet wanting to tell her that his parents visited the arboretum on quite a few occasions, but never had he been himself. “That sounds lovely. There’s just one thing, I don’t have my license yet for reasons you saw earlier.”

  “I figured you came with your dad, but it’s cool. I can drive. Have you ever been there before?”

  “Nope, I’ve always wanted to go, though.”

  “I don’t eat meat, but I know this place down the street that makes the best falafel,” Anora said.

  “I love falafel. I’ll let you lead the way,” Dante said.

  “Oh, you'll let me lead, will you?” Anora teased, patting him on the arm.

  “Hey, it’s not every day I feel comfortable enough to let my dad lead me, let alone someone I just met. Count yourself as special,” Dante retorted with a wink. “So, what kind of car do you drive?”

  “You’ll see soon enough.”

  And I’m usually the mysterious one, Dante thought, lagging, enjoying the view. He got out his phone and texted his father: Going to eat, be back later.

  “Car ahoy,” Anora said, pointing to her car. It was a green Honda Accord.

  “I like it,” Dante said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah, and I’ll like it more when we get inside it and blast the AC. I’m thirsty. So, what’s this place called?” Dante asked.

  “Neomonde, it’s the bomb dot com.”

  “Good, I’m glad. What happened earlier took it out of me.”

  “I can imagine,” Anora empathized.

  A few moments of silence passed while Dante looked at the sun, letting its rays shine upon him through the window.

  “This may seem odd, Dante, but I have a feeling you don’t have narcolepsy like your dad said.”

  “Yeah, that’s not odd at all, because I don’t. He just told them that so they wouldn’t put me in the ambulance. It’s not cheap.”

  “So what happened, then?”

  “Honestly, I’m still figuring it out, and like I was trying to tell you earlier, I don’t know if you’d believe me.”

  Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, Anora looked at Dante with sincerity in her eyes. “And like I told you before, you should try me. I can handle it. I mean, I’ve studied things like the Rainbow Buddha, who left the Earth as a stream of light. I think I can handle whatever you think you saw.”

  “I’ll tell you when I’m ready, but it’s my turn.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “So…what does your name mean?”

  Anora smiled, turning into the parking lot of the restaurant. “Anora means light. And my last name, Amiera, means leader or princess, but I’m way more of a leader than a princess, so don’t even think about calling me that.”

  Dante got out of the car and walked around to her side, then opened her door. “Well, I hope you don’t mind if I do this.”

  “Not at all, kind sir. Thank you,” Anora said.

  “Anytime, bonny lass.”

  Anora laughed. “You do accents, too?”

  “A few.”

  Once they were seated inside, Dante guzzled water, and both of them enjoyed their falafels. But it seemed as though Dante enjoyed his too fast for his own good, having remnants of tahini on his shirt as they left the restaurant.

  “Just so you know for future reference, one of the quickest ways to my heart is hummus,” Dante said.

  Anora sat there looking at him, wondering if it was the right time to ask him to regale her with his tale. “Are you ready to talk about what happened yet?”

  Dante turned away. “I still need some more time. Still figuring it out.”

  “Whenever you're ready.”

  They arrived at the arboretum, and as Dante laid his eyes on all the plants erupting with life, his obsession of figuring out what happened dwindled. The visions faded, and so did his desire to do anything else other than soak up the scene where his parents fell in love. Not a single cloud was in the sky, and although it was anything but cool that day, Dante and Anora were like the plants, ready to submit to the light above.

  Anora looked at Dante, as though he were a tall glass of water, and he did the same as they walked side by side, gazing at the trove of trees. Above them was a variety of vines that had woven themselves into the trellises and alongside the lattice. Were it not for the vines, the sun-beaten wood would be much worse than it was. But regardless of how preened the plants were, or how mulch had escaped the confines of the flower beds, Dante reveled at every plant gracing his vision.

  “Wow, it really is beautiful here,” Dante said as the sun’s glints followed them under the canopy.

  “Yup, been coming here since I was a kid—well, here and Pullen Park.”

  “Never been there before, either. Looks dingy, though.”

  “Okay, I’m just going to act like I didn’t hear you say that.”

  “What, was it me saying dingy?”

  “There you go, saying it again.”

  Dante acted like he was zipping his mouth shut, pursing his lips together.

  “…So, is it as nice as you imagined?”

  “It’s better.”

  Anora smiled. “Is it because I’m here with you?” she asked, blushing.

  Dante walked to the end of the covered trellis, then stopped and turned away, if only for a moment. Anora followed. The silence grew, and the sound of cicadas was all that could be heard.

  Anora stood beside him as he stared at one of his favorite trees, a red Japanese maple.

  “It’s the timing of everything. I hoped to meet someone like you today, and my mom told me about this place so many times…. But no one, not even my dad, had brought it up until you did today.”

  Anora put her hand in Dante’s. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, I think we’re meant to be. Sounds crazy, I know, but let’s just see where this takes us, shall we?”

  “I’m
ready for anything.”

  Dante smiled, letting go of her hand as they made their way around. “So, how long has this place been like this?”

  “Everything looks just like it did when I was a girl. Even the greenhouse over there is the same. Why?”

  “I just wanted to imagine my parents walking through here. They came here often when they were both students at State.”

  “That’s sweet…. I knew there was a reason your dad took such a shining to me. Do you remember them telling you anything particular about this place?”

  “No, but my mom told me that they came here often.”

  “Why hasn’t she taken you?”

  “She died.”

  They found a park bench underneath a tree and sat close together.

  Anora grabbed Dante’s hand, asking, “You want to talk about it?”

  “If you really want to know, sure.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to know about the woman who made you.”

  Dante sat there, thinking how best to start. “My mom, Elayna, has been my North Star for the last few years. She always knew what to say and never missed an opportunity to be kind, showing me how to love, even if I didn’t feel like it. She was creative and loved to tend to the garden with my dad. They were both horticulture majors, which is why they loved this place so much. Maybe that’s why my dad never brought us here…too painful for him.”

  “I could only imagine. A woman like that, I hope she died peacefully.”

  “…She didn’t. She died during childbirth. She just looked to us, then off into the corner and said, ‘Okay, I’ll go.’ …As the nurses pulled Amy out, my dad looked her in the eyes, yelling, while she closed hers. I think I was in shock. All I could do was watch as my dad shook my mother, screaming, hoping she’d wake up, but I couldn’t hear anything other than this super high-pitched sound.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “That’s not even the half of it. So much crazy stuff has happened since then.”

  “Oh, you mean like passing out on the museum floor?”

  “That’s nothing compared to what happened in the dream.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you in a sec, but my gut tells me that she was taken from us like she had no choice, but to leave us.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t really know, but what I do know is that I’ve been kept safe from whatever is after me.”

  Anora took her gaze from the cardinal that had just landed on the dogwood in front of them. “After you?”

  “Pretty sure. Ever since the day she died, I’ve been having these weird dreams, you know the one I was telling you about earlier.”

  “Yeah, how could I forget,” Anora said.

  “Most of them take place on Giza Plateau, like I told you before, but what I didn’t tell you is what happens after….”

  Dante went on to tell Anora of how the sand opened up, and about the dark voice that greeted him after he fell into the tomb.

  “…But, I had had a similar dream today, only this time I was saved by this luminous being, this mighty angel. Normally, I would have laid there in that tomb until I woke, but today, he shattered it.”

  Anora’s eyes widened.

  “With this kind—yeah, kind smile—he touched my forehead, and…that’s the last thing I remember.”

  “Sounds like he touched your pineal gland.”

  “My penia-what now? Can’t say that’s something I recollect.”

  Anora giggled. “I can tell.”

  “Why, what does it mean?”

  “You’re a wizard, Dante,” Anora joked.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hegelian Dialectic

  “My Liege, I’ve just gotten word that the patient draws nearer.”

  “Show me,” a deep voice grumbled in response to the shriveled cretin, as it hobbled in the shadow of his master's black throne.

  “Right away, master.”

  With skin like that of a naked mole-rat, dry and scaly, the tiny cretin scuttled to the foot of his master and waved his hand. Small flecks of the little cretin's skin fell off and drifted to the floor as a grey wisp filled the space in front of them.

  “I’ve been waiting to see the young man Belphegor’s been going on about.” The wisp illuminated showing a grainy image of Dawayne. The image grew, and Dawayne could be seen sitting alone, writing in his notebook. Underneath an awning with a scowl that came and went, he finished his sentence as small droplets of rain began hitting the metal above. The concealed being raised his shadowy hand and waved it, making Dawayne’s thoughts and written words audible.

  “I don’t think Dante will ever understand. His hopefulness still confounds me ’til this day, and yet I don’t see a reality where I don’t call him friend. They’ve done nothing but fall for the control schemes and yet he still wants to help. Like horses, they need blinders, and can’t be made to drink. Like sheep they need sheering and like rams, they butt heads senselessly for the sake of dominance over one another.

  The Bible may or may not be a book to be repudiated, but alas I can’t think of a better discourse than that of a deluge or an erection of salt. So I must give credit to God this one time for seeing the error of his ways, and rectifying the egregiousness of the leeches he calls humans.

  Tolkien saw it with the coming of the industrial age whether he wrote of it or not, and Tesla says it best.

  ‘Our virtues and our failings are inseparable, like force and matter. When they are separate, man is no more.’

  I know he’s been querulous on the subject at times, and I hope he’ll come around but I’m certainly not holding my breath. He still doesn’t know, nor do I plan on telling him of my newfound extracurricular activities, as I know he wouldn’t endorse me. But mother will find out soon enough that rabbits are a thing of the past.”

  “Master, need I fetch your scepter?”

  “Mmm, he’s no angel…AWAY WITH YOU!”

  “Right away Master! My sincerest apologies!” The tiny cretin whined and wailed, scuttling off into the darkness.

  The concealed being stood, raised his hand and with a snap of his fingers once unlit torches lit themselves, illumining the room and halls behind his throne. While the sound of his minion's wails still echoed throughout the chambers, every detail of his master's muscular physique became seen in the inferno. And unlike his spindly brother Abaddon or his bulbous brother Belphegor, his feet and legs were sturdy, strong, and proportional.

  And like his statuesque legs, his midsection was svelte and sculpted. In like fashion to some of the Creator's original work, his jawline was chiseled, while his eyes were as black as a moonless night.

  His skin was as grey as the soot from an extinguished fire and his brow furled just under his black horns that curled off to the sides. With a slight tap of his finger to his horn, both of his horns grew and changed into long, deep black strands of hair. Walking toward the wisp, he lifted both of his hands, placing his palms together. He placed them in the wisp, parting it like a curtain, creating an opening.

  A chill ran down Dawayne's spine upon hearing a rustling in the leaves, so he reached for his gun, never far from his side. Dawayne had seen his fair share of danger in his eighteen years and had grown quite accustomed to sensing when he was not alone. With a few whiffs of his nose, Dawayne caught an odor on the wind.

  “I know I’m not alone. You reek of sulfur.,” Dawayne said.

  Then like a whisper in his ear, he heard the faintest of murmurs. “But, you have always been alone….”

  With gun cocked and at the ready, Dawayne turned around to see the grey-skinned humanoid. He towered above Dawayne. With blackened eyes and hair, the being stood there perplexed that Dawayne wasn’t cowering. While Dawayne stood there looking just as perplexed, he aimed his shotgun toward the being's chest.

  “Hmmm, I do like your gusto. You must be Dawayne whom I’ve heard so much about.”

  “Hmmm, you must be looking to get shot.”

&
nbsp; “You should think for a moment human before you do something you may very well regret.” The grey-skinned being laughed, sounding like a hundred-year-old motor trying to turn over.

  “To think that you actually expected this to cause me harm.” The being then grabbed the tip of Dawayne’s shotgun barrel with his palms blocking the opening and without much thought, Dawayne pulled the trigger. Smoke and sparks seeped from the end of the now warped barrel. The grey hominoid squeezed it shut with the slightest bit of exertion, and the buckshot that was fired fell to the ground. The being was unscathed.

  “Damn. I just got this gun,” Dawayne said while his hands were still clasped around the stock.

  The being grabbed the gun, and tossed it in the air, where it vanished without a trace. And with a twirl of the being's fingers, another shotgun just like Dawayne’s appeared out of thin air, then fell into his hand.

  “I came to converse with you Dawayne, and if you can be a good little human for just a minute, I might give this back to you. Now please, we have much to discuss,” the being said pointing to a seat.

  “Before we start, have you ever heard of lotion?” Dawayne asked with a smirk.

  “I was born of a fire hotter than you’ve ever known human.”

  “Oh, okay so like give or take a few billion degrees Fahrenheit? …That explains the sulfur smell, but you didn’t answer my question. Have you…ever heard of lotion?”

  With a smirk of his own the grey being responded, “Very well, your firearm is of no consequence to me.” With another slight heave, he threw the gun in the air and it vanished.

  “Okay, okay, you win.” Dawayne caved. “What do you want?”

  “I haven’t come to bargain,” the being said as he picked up Dawayne’s notebook and flipped through the pages. “We have been watching you for a while now, Dawayne.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel nervous or scared?”

  “No, it’s meant to prove you feel nothing. You’ve quarreled with me for the sake of it or maybe it was for the sake of your pride, so that would be another department’s responsibility entirely.”