Wrestling the Kraken

Dante

Dante

Sitting at the bar, Dante kept his head low, listening. He didn't care much for his own thoughts right now and wanted to hear how other people's lives were going. This was the second bar he visited this night. The other one was closer to his hotel and more lively. He didn't feel lively right now. This bar was more his mood. Not quite in the ghetto, but away enough from the downtown vibe and brought out people who seemed more... real.

A woman's voice caught his attention. It sounded familiar. Lifting his head up, he looked into the mirror behind the bartender. His eyes held wide open when they caught the image. Claire was standing behind him in her nightgown, her throat slit opened, a rose loosely held in her fingers.

With disbelief, he blinked several times. She was gone. A different woman, one he didn't know, had gotten up and started to play a round of pool in the spot where Claire had been. It was time to go. Rising from his stool, he paid the bartender. He lifted his glass, throwing back the last ounce left and walked out.

Making it back to his hotel suite, Dante turned the key and opened the door. Taking one step in, he could feel it underneath his foot. Again? Oh, God! Not again! He pleaded in his heart. Closing his eyes, he was frozen in place. He had stepped on a landmine and now that he knew about it, there was no going back, no pretending it wasn't there.

Taking one deep breath, he bent down to pick it up. Stepping inside, he bolted the door behind him. Why is he still tormenting me? Who is it this time?

He felt the envelope in between his fingers. No return address, no names, just like always. Opening the envelope, a card slipped out. The card had a message typed onto the face of it. A location.

He balled the card up and tossed it in the corner, then placed his hands on the counter, breathing heavy. When will this end? He straightened up, looking around the room. Ruining his father's reputation and taking away the business he loves wasn't enough. He knew it wouldn't be, but placed a small measure of hope on the possibility.

The next phase of the plan would have to move quickly. The idea his mother's lawyer came up with was perfect. It had crossed his mind before, but he often sensed a pull back. He didn't know why his father was doing this.

On the surface, it was because he thought he knew what was best for Dante, eliminating his obstacles, so his future would be unhindered...but to go to this extreme? Was he mad? Maybe he just needed some time in a facility to help straighten him out?

These questions are what invaded him, everytime he attempted with more drastic measures in his plan. Too many people were paying the price for his caution. For now, though, something else pressing had to be taken care of.

Walking over to the crumpled up card, he picked it up and smoothed it out. Then placing it in his pocket, he grabbed his keys and left.

♦

Dante stood in front of the body. Coat collar up, hat brim low, casting a deeper shadow on his face than the ones surrounding him.

The building was in the midst of a blighted area. A run down borough of Fox Hollow called Paramore Hills. All the lights were dark, except for a dim street lamp back on the main road.

He was on the first floor. Dusted tarps and machinery lay scattered, with some walls torn down, opening up the space. Construction had started, but from the looks of it, ceased altogether, or at least for the time being.

In the middle of the cold floor, lay the body, neat and veiled. If there was one thing he could be grateful for was that his father at least cared enough to treat them well in death. If only he could do so in life.

In his gloved hand, he held a rose. The scent, barely reaching him, still caught his attention. A loose, red petal dropped, as he spun the stem in between his fingers. He brought it to his lips and kissed the soft silk, before laying it down on top of his mother.

She was still covered in the white sheer fabric. He couldn't remove it- didn't want to remove it. Her eyes were open wide, staring back at him through the fabric as bent over her. He wondered what her last thoughts were. This was a sick game he was tied up in.

Knowing his hands weren't completely innocent themselves, he still felt like this... this... had taken it too far. These lives lost and for what?

He stayed bent over his mother, looking into her face. There weren't many memories between them. She usually stayed at the villa in France with his sister, while he toured with his father at a young age. Still, he had often felt more connected to her than to his father.

Then his gaze shifted to the small diamond shape pressed into the wax. He never understood why a diamond. The wax held a small envelope. He gave a heavy sigh and pulled back the fabric, removing the envelope. Opening it, he read the typed message: ALMOST DONE. HANG IN THERE.

Clenching his jaw, his thoughts moved to the pressure in his teeth. He closed his mother's eyes, trying to give her some semblance of rest. Standing up, he took out a silver lighter with his initials on them, and burned the corner of the card, watching it catch on fire dissolving into ash. Dissolving the gesture made on his behalf.

He straightened his coat and went to leave. There was no need to move her body. Using her to prove a point, to make his father face his deeds, seemed pointless. It never worked, yet he continued with the fruitless action, asking the dead for one last favor. This time, he would ask nothing of the dead. He would make sure she had a proper funeral, but first he needed to make an anonymous call to the police.

Stepping out of the building, he walked out a few paces. A motion caught his eye. Looking up, on the third floor of the neighboring building, a curtain moved. Dante lowered his hat a bit more and pulled up his collar, then turned around and walked away.

♦

After Dante cleared the area, a figure hugged the shadows, making their way into the building. Creeping over to the body that lay on the ground, the figure bent over and hovered for a brief moment. A hand reached out and touched the soft silk of the petals. Then the figure placed a small item in the pocket of Ms. Rossini. Getting up, the figure rushed out.