Dante & The Dark Seed

by C. J. Pizzurro

  “Seriously? Why would I say anything?” Tim asked.

  Adel got the walkie from underneath Tim’s jacket.

  “They’ll be pissed I left,” Tim said with sincerity in his eyes.

  Adel then had a moment of clarity, realizing he didn’t need to veer off the road, almost killing them. “Oh, so you’ve done stuff like this before?”

  “Uhh, yeah, what do you think I’m trying to tell you?”

  “Well, quit trying to tell me, and just tell me.”

  “Timothy…. Come in.”

  “Is your uncle Rip Tropfin?” Adel asked.

  Tim shook his head. “Nope, now please untie me.”

  “You promise you’re not going to try and get away before you tell me what I need to know?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “Because you know how fast I can put you down right?”

  “Geez, how could I forget. My wrists are really starting to hurt.”

  Adel took his Ka-Bar knife from his waist, cutting Tim free.

  “So, what are you going to tell him?”

  “Uhh, I’m not going to respond at all,” Tim answered.

  Surprised, Adel asked, “So you’re just gonna ghost your uncle?”

  “Yup, I’m goin’ ghost….”

  • • •

  The MC kept trying as he may to get a response from Tim. “God Damnit, Tim, are you there?” He said removing his hood. Rip was by no means a spring chicken, but the man was older still, twenty years his senior. His gray hair was still combed over, and neat.

  “Damnit, my nephew is an idiot. That’s what I get for giving him a job, huh, Rip?” he said backhanding Rip in jest on the arm.

  Rip nodded and grinned, unsure. “Yeah, Jacob, he’s dropping the ball.”

  Jacob’s feminine counterpart took off her cowl as well, with her gray hair pulled into a ponytail.

  “Ahh, he’s probably off with his junky friend, Rob. We’ll find him. But uhh…Rip?” Jacob looked to the corpse then back to again. “Uhhh, I would have asked Dave to take care of it if I knew Tim would have left his post, but I already asked everyone to leave.”

  Jacob grabbed Rip by the back of the arm, squeezing it a little. “Ahh, I see you’re looking strong as ever. Could you take care of her for me? Janice and I wore ourselves out earlier with the others. You understand.”

  The woman nodded, hinting with a smile while Jacob stood there smug.

  “Where is your cart? I use a cart at home, works pretty good.”

  “Oh, us too, we’re not getting any younger, am I right?” Jacob joked. “No, but seriously it’s in the closet over there. Thanks, Rip.”

  Patting Rip on the chest, Jacob walked away hand in hand with his wife.

  Alone in the dark, Rip wondered if the last hour of events could have unfolded another way, as he walked toward the closet. Spotting the cart, he was met with disappointment. This cart had seen better days, with large stains and a squeaky bum wheel. But he pushed it out and next to the sacrificial table all the same.

  “With as much money as they have, why do they have this piece of crap?”

  Loosening the straps, Rip heaved the body onto the cart, then took a hose from beside the table, and turned the knob. With a blank look on his face, he hosed down the table, remembering it had been many moons since he had been asked to do such a thing.

  This duty had always been reserved for younger initiates, but he did it, pushing the cart toward the elevator. As soon as the door opened, a foul stench filled his nose. Whatever it was, it was foul enough to make Rip pinch his nose.

  “Oh, man…that is so not my problem.”

  The basement was massive with walls made of brick, but as the foundation settled over the last couple of centuries, the wall had separated from the floor. Rip pushed the cart over to the old industrial washing machine that hadn’t been used in years, then pulled the lever on the side.

  Sounds of hydraulics engaged and the washing machine rose to reveal a tub underneath it. The massive tub held sludge similar to Rip’s vat at home. Jacob’s on the other hand, held the girls from earlier that day. As they began to become one with it, Rip took the girl, easing her in as not to splash hydrofluoric acid on himself. Grabbing the side of the washing machine, he pulled it back down, until it clicked into place.

  Trudging back upstairs, he left the cart where he found it. The house had grown quiet.

  He made his way to the room where they had all gotten ready, disrobed, and removed the necklace from his neck. Making his way toward the door, he realized that he was alone. There wasn’t a single car out front that didn’t belong to him, not even Jacob’s, who owned the manor.

  “Brother Rip,” Rip mimicked the way Jacob appealed to Rip’s baser instinct of wanting to be accepted. It had worked in that moment, but the nakedness of the driveway was the true indicator of the state of his relationships.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Do as Thou Wilt

  Asmodeus made his way through the other side of the wisp and back into his private quarters where his flaky cretin kneeled, waiting for his master’s reemergence. Filth had tidied his quarters and lit the torches hoping he would avoid his master’s ire.

  “Welcome back, Master.”

  As the wisp closed, Asmodeus looked upon his cretin, tossing him the necklace.

  “Take this to our blacksmith to have it inspected.”

  “Yes, of course, Master.”

  Filth gazed at the necklace, how the orb reflected the faintest glimmers of light from the torches. And, while the orb glimmered, the dark metal that encapsulated it, had no shine. In fact, in the hellish realm, the dark metal looked so black that it seemed to negate any light that hit it, and to him, it was the most beautiful thing he ever had the pleasure of holding.

  Asmodeus made his way down the corridor lit only by fire, toward the exit. But he noticed a certain little cretin not doing as he was demanded.

  “FILTH!”

  Filth’s eyes were still immersed in adoring the necklace that he hadn’t heard his Master’s bellow.

  “FILTH!!!”

  Asmodeus’ second bellow shook the very halls, breaking the cretin’s concentration.

  “RIGHT AWAY, MASTER!” Filth yelled as he hobbled toward the sooty, dark, stone door. There Asmodeus stood watching as his minion rounded the corner.

  “Don’t make me wait again.”

  Asmodeus walked toward the door as it split down the middle and opened. He walked into the hall where fires raged and countless demons, in a hurry, made their way with briefcases through the halls. Being the Department Head of Lust, the many lesser demons walked around him. He towered above them all, watching Filth struggle to walk down the hall as the door began to shut. For a moment, Filth thought his master smiled happy to see him, but the door kept closing. Asmodeus’ smile grew wider as the door shut, and Filth jumped trying to get through. But, alas, he was trapped between the doors.

  “Ahhh! Master, I require some assistance!”

  “Ha,” Asmodeus sneered without lifting as much as a finger, watching Filth struggle to free himself. The demons that paced down the halls began noticing the struggling cretin, laughing as they whizzed by. The Ashy One kept smiling, but he grew impatient with his gormless companion, swiping the necklace from him.

  “I’ll take it myself,” Asmodeus said, shaking his head.

  “Ah! But Master if you could just free me, I could take it myself, I swear it!”

  “Let this be the lesson for dawdling.”

  “Don’t leave me here!”

  With the sound of Filth whining at his back, Asmodeus made his way through the infernal halls, finding his way to the blackest smith of them all.

  There was no door to enter, just an opening facing the hall for anyone who needed metals forged. Asmodeus was on the larger side compared to the rest of their kind, but the blacksmith was larger still. Asmodeus stood near the storefront as the smithy, hands at work, had his back to the hall. He had a trem
endous red torso with massive muscles, rippling as he tinkered away. All variety of pendants, chains, and sheets of metal were strewn throughout the shop. The prodigious demon need only turn his head and take a few whiffs to be certain he wasn’t alone.

  Asmodeus cleared his throat and the smithy turned around, showing how many scars he had acquired throughout the eons.

  “Ahh! I thought that was you, Asmodeus! My old friend,” he said as he stood up. Missing his legs that had been lost during the great wars, he had fashioned a dark metal pair that served as a replacement.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you, old friend, Astaroth.”

  “The last few times you sent Filth. So what brings the Ashy One to my shop?”

  Asmodeus lifted the necklace, and after showing it to him, placed it on the counter. “I had the humans fashion it from the dark arts I taught them. Just want to confirm it was done…correctly.”

  Astaroth’s eyes widened with glee.

  “Oh, wow, this must be for someone special.”

  “Indeed, it is for the younger sister of a Light Bringer.”

  “Well, I’m sure we’ve also got a few human dogs in this fight.”

  “Always a quick one you’ve been, Astaroth, that’s precisely who this necklace shall be given to.”

  “Is it the other boy? I’ve heard only murmurs. Oh, how it sounds like he would fit right in, he would.”

  “You’d like him, Astaroth. He could compete with our disdain for the upright apes.”

  “Ahh, it must be nice working on the front lines. I miss the glory days, but those days are far gone.” Astaroth knocked on his metal legs.

  “You give yourself too little credit. It was you, the mighty Astaroth, who culled entire choirs of angels, not I. There may soon be a day where you will be asked to do the same, but you didn’t hear this from me.”

  “You’re too kind, Asmodeus. I would revel at the opportunity to clip the wings of more pigeons, but I’m sure you have places you need to be. So, let me take a look at this necklace.”

  Astaroth picked up the necklace, then pulled a lever. A large mechanical device behind him began to sputter. Then, out of its wide mouth, molten magma began flowing into large troughs, surrounding the workshop. The magmas light illuminated everything in its entirety. Astaroth then took a monocle from around his neck, squeezing it into the folds around his eye.

  “The humans could never have forged this dark metal with their technology. It is by far the blackest thing I’ve ever seen them build since before the last fall.”

  “Mammon and I reallocated quite a bit from their forges during the days of Dark Sky. They merely reworked the scrap I gave them.”

  “Was the orb of their making?”

  “Per my instruction and with proper sacrifice, they fused the dark metal and emerald to make it.”

  “Say what you will about humans but every other eon, they can surprise you. Looks great to me, wouldn’t need to make any adjustments for it to do the job…but tell me this. What’s she like?”

  Asmodeus smiled. “Pure as pure can get, she is. We could feast on her alone for a century.”

  Astaroth licked his lips. “Now I must give you some information you may not be privy to. It’s about Mammon….”

  Asmodeus’ smile lessened.

  “Mammon was just here the other day tasking me with making some items that he’d give as gifts to the humans as a means to exacerbate their idolatry. Laden with gold and gems, he also wanted me to imbue them with a spell to inspire any who look upon them to become insatiably avaricious.”

  “Is that not his job? He is the Department Head of Greed.”

  “I see your brothers haven’t voiced their concerns to you yet. Belphegor and Abaddon think Mammon has stepped out of line, making humans give up their faineant ways for that of greed. They think it could lead the lowly to overthrow the rich. We’ve had a good run, but who am I to say. That’s what they think, and I wasn’t one to tell a Department Head that I couldn’t acquiesce. I wasn’t the one who told you this.”

  Asmodeus stood up.

  “As always, much obliged, my eldest of friends. I will dissertate with them soon on the matter. But I really must be leaving now. The sooner I give this to the boy, the sooner we feast.”

  Astaroth grabbed Asmodeus by the shoulder.

  “Until we meet again, Ashy One.”

  Asmodeus made his way back to his quarters, where Filth had tired from exhaustion. As he walked toward the door, it opened, causing Filth to fall to the floor.

  “Master, so kind, thank you for freeing me.”

  Asmodeus stepped over him and, as the doors shut, Filth scuttled in. With a wave of his hand, Asmodeus summoned a wisp. Images of Dawayne, dressed to the nines, appeared. Just getting back from school that clear day, he pulled his car into his driveway.

  His backpack unable to hold any more books, sat in the passenger seat. Not wanting to do anything school related, he left it there, making his way inside. There was still a box of pizza from the other night in the fridge, so he grabbed that and plopped on the couch. He flipped on the television and let out a sigh, easing himself in the comfort of home.

  Lighting struck outside.

  But he didn’t flinch an inch when the lights in the kitchen shut off. The TV hadn’t shut off, so, to him, there wasn’t any need to be alarmed. As the lights came back on a towering figure stood ensconced.

  “Dawayne,” the shadowy figure whispered.

  “What the hell?” Dawayne said as the being stepped into the light. Unafraid, Dawayne stood up ready to go toe to toe but was relieved to see that it was Asmodeus.

  “Oh, thank God, it’s just you.”

  “For whom do you thank?” Asmodeus asked, disappointed in the boy.

  “It’s just an expression. I know God isn’t real.”

  “If you think God isn’t real, that would be your first mistake, young one. May I come in?”

  “Why yes, of course, you can, Asmodeus. I have been awaiting your return. But just so you know, you could have knocked.”

  “My kind doesn’t knock.” Asmodeus took a seat in the recliner across the room from Dawayne, looking like a giant as he leaned back, enjoying the chair. “Ahh, you humans and your leisure.”

  Dawayne looked disgusted.

  “Please, don’t liken me with the rest of them. You certainly wouldn’t be here if I were.”

  Asmodeus sat up straight, looking at Dawayne with a sinister grin. “You couldn’t be any more right.” Dawayne pushed his box of pizza aside, crossed his legs. “So, what do I owe the pleasure, Asmodeus?”

  Asmodeus leaned forward and reached behind him, grabbing the necklace.

  Confused, Dawayne saw the vantablackesque chain as the light hit the green pendant in the center. “You seem to have me confused with another. I won’t wear that…ever.”

  “Good, it’s not intended for you. Long I have waited for the opportunity to have you repay us for the debt of saving your life. Were it not for yours truly, you would have perished eight years ago at the hands of Rip and his wife.”

  Dawayne just looked back at him with a blank stare, reminiscing about the day he came to, covered in blood, walking to Dante’s. He had not yet told Dante that he had been made privy to the events of that day due to who revealed them. He just knew Dante wouldn’t approve. So, while Dante wasn’t here, Dawayne’s mind was already made up.

  “So, what shall you choose?” Asmodeus asked.

  “Well, I’m sure I’d be foolish to decline. So, of course, I say yes in hopes that one day soon you would aid me as you had all those years ago.”

  Asmodeus leaned forward, clasping his hands. “If the need arises, I can arrange that.”

  Unencumbered with concern, Dawayne asked, “So what would you have me do?”

  “It’s merely a simple task I ask of you. All I ask is that you give this necklace to the sister of Dante on the eve of her next birthday.”

  Dawayne was perplexed. “I have one stipula
tion.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I must have you promise me that you won’t harm her.”

  Asmodeus stood up bowing looking Dawayne square in the eyes. “I assure you, Dawayne, I will never harm her.”

  Calculating, Dawayne squinted at Asmodeus. “Well, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

  A sinister smile emerged on Asmodeus’s face. “And everything to gain.”

  Dawayne knew in the back of his head that this agreement could go south quick, but he still wanted to convince himself otherwise.

  “So, it’s really that easy. All I have to do is give her this necklace…. What if she doesn’t like it? It’s not very girly.”

  Asmodeus handed Dawayne the necklace. “Easy as pie as you humans would call it, and, yes, she’ll wear it. She may even love it.”

  “Again with the lumping me in with them, I’ve never said ‘easy as pie.’”

  “Fair enough, young one…fair enough.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Black Notebook

  “Honey!” Adel yelled into the house. Brianna came running downstairs while Adel Jr. stood curious, at the top of the stairs. With suspecting eyes Brianna looked at Tim, seeing the shiner that was beginning to form on the side of his face.

  “What’s going on now?” Brianna looked Tim up and down. “And what did my husband drag you into?”

  “Uhhh, nothing,” Tim said not wanting to say too much.

  “Oh, that doesn’t look like nothing. You get into a car accident or something?”

  Tim stared wide-eyed at Adel. “I guess you could say that, ma’am.”

  “Well whatever happened, let me get you some ice for that.”

  Adel stared daggers at Tim, daring him to reveal where he acquired the lump.

  Adel Jr. came down and without saying a word, listened at the bottom of the stairs. He had packed on quite a bit of muscle over the years, playing football like his dad. And because Adel Jr. had been able to play football at such a high level in addition to being masterful on the piano, he was offered a full ride at Duke University.