Dante
Dante sat in the back of the car with the agents looking for this employer that Vito spoke of. His plan had worked, but not to his credit. There was no time to set the bait properly, unless his father went after Vivianne as revenge. A personal score. Either way it worked.
The guy they caught- attempting to use a drug with some kind of sedative or tranquilizer- had talked, but only so much. He mentioned having an accomplice, promising that his part was only to deliver the bodies to some mystery person he'd never seen before.
Right now we were on some wild goose chase for a made up ghost that didn't exist. His story had too many holes in it. Why would he deliver bodies to someone he's never met before? To pull this off all these years, leaving no evidence behind, and in so many cities, he just didn't buy it, but the Feds ate it up.
Dante looked out the window at torn buildings, tagging on signs and walls promoting this gang or that one. Other words and images he couldn't even make out. They passed by a car damaged by fire, missing it's tires. It had been set on cinder blocks.
He should have despised this town, but somehow it seemed to fit like a glove. The caution in the air, the dark streets and alleyways. All nooks and crannies hidden within deep shadow. Before, he would never have identified with such places, but that was a long time ago. His father made sure that softness would never again describe him in any way. Men weren't soft- they were feared- and in this world, it's fear or be feared. His mother's words came to mind. She had told him that softness was a strength, not a weakness. She was also dead.
YOU ARE READING
Wrestling the Kraken
Mistério / SuspenseOne evening in 1963 entangles the lives of a certain group of strangers. Eight years later, the circus is in town, but everywhere they've been...death followed. Will the city of Fox Hollow be its last stop? As the serial killer prepares the plan, so...
