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MONSTER	By : Radius Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 10984 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N: Howdy guys! Yep, me again! I’m posting these chapters back-to-back, aren’t I, lol. I might as well. The internet link I’m using is really unstable. Some days I get in, most times I don’t. Seeing as I don’t want you guys waiting 300 years for the next chapter, I’m posting as much as I can while this link is still working. Excuse the grammar since I’m pretty sure I missed a few here and there. Once this entire story is loaded, I’ll go back and fix each one. I’m just so busy I rarely get the chance to do it. :-(

Some warnings about this chapter, other than some sexual content (which isn’t much but I’ve gotta warn you guys anyway), there is drug use and suicide material here. Enjoy and thanks for dropping by.

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<< | Make the Most of Today | >>

As promised, Trish was gone by the next day. Had it not been for the note she left on his desk he would’ve thought it was all a dream. Both the room she used was left at its original state and, with the exception of a missing water bottle and pop tart, the fridge was left alone.

Make the most of today, she wrote in the letter. He really wanted to do just that.

In a manmade dark room located at the basement of Devil May Cry, Dante focused on an image. He adjusted the side knobs of a large device that looked similar to a microscope. Secured on the device’s platform was a blank sheet of glossy paper. Once he saw the image was clear enough through his lens, he flicked on a light switch. With the image now invisibly imprinted on the sheet of paper, he carefully took the paper by its edges and headed toward a table that had several trays, all filled with various chemicals.

Surrounded by red light, Dante placed a glossy and blank 8 ½ X 11 sheet into the first tray, using tongs with rubber ends to move the paper deeper into the clear liquid. Also on the counter were several bottles, packages of glossy paper, articles on the brutal incidents, a cup of cold coffee, a radio, and his cell phone. Hanging by a wire that reached from one end of the room to the other were several black-and-white photographs. They were the images of the college kids and homeless people who died three days ago.

The radio played indie rock music while Dante developed the photos he’d taken last night at the hospital’s morgue. When he saw the bodies in person he could tell he was dealing with an unworldly creature. One bite mark was too wide to be classified as normal size. A single tooth was roughly a foot long. Judging by the crush of one of the victim’s skull, the creature had incredible strength too. A bulldozer couldn’t have done a better job. And, of course, there were the claw marks Enzo mentioned. Several gashes from the bodies served as gruesome clues about this creature’s lethal features. Judging by the depths of the wounds and how wide they were, most of the victims received only the tips of the creature’s nails.

Yes, he was in vacation, but that still didn’t prevent him from taking an extra trip to the actual site of the college kids’ demise. Once his long hangover from two nights ago was over, his mind was clear and he was now ready to resume his investigation. Luckily, with the amusement park’s incident spurring great interest, the college kids no longer garnered attention from the media. There was still the yellow flimsy police tape around the scene, but no one was guarding the area anymore. Dante took in the sights and scents. He noticed the tipped trash can and smelled the urine on a wall of a nearby abandoned building. After a few hours of note-taking and photographing, he was done and ready to analyze.

The current photo in the tray was finally developed and Dante carefully grabbed the edges. He let it soak in the tray of water for a few seconds before hanging it with the others.

The black-and-white image showed the chest of a male. Above his belly area was a tattoo of a naked demon. There was nothing beyond it because the rest of his body was torn off. How they were going to cover that fact at the mortuary amused Dante. Still, he had more serious issues to contend with than clever make-up tricks. So far, the row of victims all met the same demise. As Dante studied each photo, he put himself in the creature’s shoes.

He was an efficient and careful killer who used the night to his advantage. He stalked the grounds first before he struck, being mindful of the area’s layout. He smelled their blood, piss, beer, pizza, burritos, sea-salt sweat, sexual juices, and the ashes from cigarettes and the bonfire. He heard the radio, the people, the cracks of fire, and a few distant cars brushing by the bridge above. Content, he came out hard and fast. He went for vital areas to silence his first victims, so as not to alarm the others. His first target was the abandoned building housing the homeless. There were many shadows to hide there and the liquor his marks consumed made them delusional enough not to notice or understand him. Some were paralyzed when they saw him; others were too confused to act. While his hunger was unbearable, he needed to make quick work of them all. There were still the kids outside. They’d prove to be a challenge. It was open ground. No shadows to hide in. He’d have to be fast and need a distraction. The bonfire. Tip the can. Make them focus their attention on it and be confused. Take advantage of the blasting radio to mask out the first surprised gasps. Let the following screams be mistaken for hollers of celebration. Be fast. Be efficient. But wait. One more. There came the one he saw moments ago, pissing at the wall with a demon tattoo on his belly. His belly, a warm ecstasy filled with delicious meats. He wanted to save him last. He needed a good meal. He’d been too fast with the others and didn’t have time to enjoy their flavor. Their blood. Yes. Their blood, the very first thing he smelled. It nurtured and provided spices to the tender meat within. It soiled the meat, making it soft enough to gently pierce into and digest with a satisfied sigh. Their flesh gave him life, sustained him. He needed more, much more.

Breathing hard, Dante had to steady himself against the counter. He moved aside long bangs from his right eye. Jesus. This monster wasn’t going to stop.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Dante grabbed the first article on the stack he brought with him. He reread the scene at the amusement park, trying to read between the lines. With eyes slightly cast down, he gripped his mug’s handle a bit tightly.

No. He couldn’t jump to conclusions. It was just a coincidence. Seth was acting funny that day, sure, but that didn’t automatically make him a suspect. They just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Right…?

Dante tried to be satisfied with that answer. And yet, he couldn’t dismiss the blood he smelled on him that day. Nor could he easily dismiss his sudden disappearance. Where did he go when they separated? And what happened to the young Goth that accompanied him that night?

                Dante set his cup down. Grabbing the news articles and photos, he headed upstairs.

It was a hot day, a scorching one-hundred degrees. Fucking global warming, he thought as he opened the windows. He couldn’t afford air conditioning so he left it to good ole’ Mother Nature to blow in some wind. The rest was up to the ceiling fan, which he often felt was mere decoration. Agitated after sitting behind his table for a few minutes, Dante took a quick shower. Afterward, he drank three bottles of water and tried to concentrate on his work.

Fanning himself with a magazine from time to time, Dante took several notes. He was disturbed when he compared the claw marks from the college kids’ bodies to the claw marks from the department store many weeks ago. They were similar. Looking through his notes, Dante found the timing very peculiar. The events started just a few weeks ago. Meaning, whoever was stalking the streets arrived recently. Somehow, the timing didn’t fit with what he had in mind.

At twelve, the illegitimate dog came and he took a break. After scolding the hairy mutt for humping on his leg, he gave him his meal and returned back to work. Dante was about to sit behind his desk again until someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Dante announced as he sat down. He was about to ask for the password until he looked up at his visitor. He smirked. “Yeah? What do you want?”

The young female investigator paused, brushing back a strand of her double-colored hair and looking nervous. Damsel stood near the door sporting a mini-skirt and a blouse that hugged her body too tightly. Her skin sparkled, trickled with sweat. She blew on her face to cool herself but didn’t take another step forward, choosing to stay where she was. Dante was glad she did.

“I’m sorry,” Damsel said from across the room. “But… I was wondering if you knew where Rain… er, Seth was. I called his place but he’s not picking up.”

Dante tried not to frown or appear bothered. “What? You don’t know where he lives?”

“I, uh… forgot where I put his address. I came here because you obviously know it.”

Dante chuckled. He was amused but also glad all that pot she smoked was enough to screw with her memory. He looked back at his work. “Well, if he’s not picking up, then that means he’s not home. Call him later or something.”

“I’ve been calling him. For a long time, in fact. At one point, an operator’s voice told me his connection was cut off.” She sounded worried. “I was hoping you’d tell me where he lives. I know it’s in the east side of town but that’s all I remember.”

“What’s this about?” he demanded.

Damsel went quiet. When she spoke again she kept her voice calm, “I need to talk to him. I gave him a survey a few days ago. I’d like to talk to him about it.”

With his feet up on the table, Dante rocked back and forth against his chair. He crossed his arms behind his head. “Survey, you say?”

“Yeah.” Damsel took a couple steps forward but remained a good distant from Dante. She held up a folded sheet of paper. “Paranormal Five gave out surveys all over the city, inquiring about paranormal events and such.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Dante didn’t bother answering the questions he received in his mailbox, eventually trashing it along with the other junk mail he got. Remembering the questions and knowing Seth had answered them made him regret his decision, though. Granted, the young group lacked the investigative skills to ask the serious and crucial questions, but they were enthusiastic enough to inquire about the juicy, tabloid-type of information.

“Mind if I read what he wrote?”

Frowning, Damsel folded the piece of paper. “Sorry. Client confidentiality.”

Dante grinned, rocking back and forth in his chair. Yes, he had to admit, he liked Damsel. A bit a klutz and always at the wrong place at the wrong time, but the young woman certainly did have spunk. And what the hell, she was pretty good looking too. No wonder Seth got along with her so well. If she was headed down the path of an investigator, though, she’d need to lay off the dope and stop getting into messy situations. And speaking of getting into messy situations, she was about to get into one right now.

“What? Can’t do a fellow investigator a favor?” Dante asked coyly behind his desk. “I’ll make it worth your wild, honey.”

Damsel blinked and tried not to flush. She knew Dante was an asshole but there was a reason why women kept falling for him. She was determined not to be one of those women.

                “Kiss my ass, Han Solo.”

                Dante blinked, a bit surprised by her answer. His reaction made Damsel smile. Proud of herself and, as if to prove her point, she turned around, bent down, and put the paper inside her underwear. She slapped her ass and gave Dante an ugly look over her shoulder.

                Dante absolutely hated being called that name. Even when he wasn’t a part of their sad little posse, he was designated a nickname anyway. He should’ve given Damsel his usual two cents. Instead, he laughed, greatly entertained and aroused by Damsel’s defiance. She definitely had fire. A voice somewhere in his mind, though, told him to put it out before Seth had a chance to be drawn to it again. Even though they weren’t together anymore the last thing Dante wanted to see in the streets was the two holding hands.

                Lifting off his feet from the table, the veteran investigator casually walked up to Damsel. He had to sneer, noticing Damsel hold her ground. The smartest thing for her to have done was walk out and close the door behind. Instead, she waited for him to get close enough to stare down at her.

                “You’re twenty-one, aren’t you?” he asked.

                “So what if I am?”

                “You’re old enough to know better than to mess with a guy like me, baby.”

                “As if I give care.” She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to the left.

                Dante’s gaze suggested he was more impressed than insulted.

Under his stare, Damsel admittedly felt naked. Standing below a man that felt like he was twice her size, she wanted to whimper out a help. His piercing blue eyes both violated and terrified her. She heard many stories about Dante, most of them portraying him as a malevolent creature with a calm look on his face. She thought it was all bullshit, all exaggerated and distorted truths. But here, at this very moment, with him just an inch away from her, she felt an incredible power emanating from him.

God, what the hell was he? Was he even human?

Dante’s next action didn’t give Damsel much of a warning except for the playful, bent smile. Right as she glowered at it, though, he grabbed her hips and lifted her up to his pool table nearby, propping her there. It happened so fast and she didn’t react when he forced her to lie down and raised her legs up in the air with both hands. Damsel finally gasped out loud, watching him spread her legs, bending them at the knees. Instinct compelled her to close them again but the man’s hands were like iron. Between her legs now, Dante towered over her, one arm placed on both her sides.

“You wanted me to kiss your ass, didn’t you?” he asked smoothly, the smile still on his face.

Damsel couldn’t form words. Her mouth was completely dry and her body shivered underneath the man looming above. What started out as fear transformed into something else.

The woman in her couldn’t help it. He was the biggest player in town but he was also the sexiest. He was that slice of high-fat creamy cheesecake, bad for the health but yummy to the taste buds. Damsel knew she wasn’t the only girl in her block fingering herself at night, perversely thinking of this man. He used to drive her mad with jealously whenever the city’s sexist bachelor had a girlfriend. But as she grew older and got to know him little by little, she learned how much of an arrogant jerk he was. He was a pretty face with too much baggage for anyone to carry around for long. It amazed her Rainbow stuck with him. In fact, Damsel heard all the horrible stories from Dante’s ex’s. It was the same-o crap.

Sexy. Incredible in bed. Easy-going. Listener. Passionate. Lover. Hater. Intense. Reclusive. Arrogant. Unbearable. Asshole. Never again.

                As far as Damsel was concerned, Dante was nothing more than the subject of her wet dreams. It broke her heart that Rainbow was still with this guy. Though, there was rumor that they broke up. Regardless, Rainbow was an emotional and passionate man, eager for true love. He deserved better. Unfortunately, Rainbow was of rare breed. He was beautiful in every way, the light that attracted the darkness. It wasn’t a surprise Dante clung to him, unwilling to share him with anyone. Of all the lovers the investigator ever had, she noticed how protective he was of Rainbow.

Damsel realized it was a mistake coming here. Dante wasn’t going to tell her his address and now she was in deep trouble.

                “What’s the matter, baby, don’t want to talk anymore?” Dante purred to her, his hands slowly trending under her miniskirt.

                “I… I…”

“Hmmm? What was that?” He reached the top of her legs, the thumbs grazing her inner thighs. “I can’t hear you, doll face.”

                Damsel moaned and her bent legs trembled. She couldn’t help it. His hands were so strong but delicate at the same time. The thumbs were rough but somehow soothing at the same time. No, she couldn’t blame Rainbow or all the other lovers for wanting Dante.

                When Dante’s pupils shifted in size a bit as they took in her details, Damsel was completely transfixed by them. Those white-blue eyes… They were surreal and powerful, almost like an animal. Damsel was lost in them.

Dante continued examining her like a predator watching his prey. No curve was overlooked. No crease ignored. Everything was studied under extreme scrutiny. Where his eyes traveled, an area in her body felt exposed and vulnerable. With ease and painful patience, his fingers reached her pink underwear and Damsel’s breathe shuddered. His body slowly crept over hers.

Dante’s lips hovered just over her chest, right between her breasts. When he looked up at her face, his chin barely touched the skin. The smile on Dante’s face faded and he traveled up, his lips eventually brushing against her long neck. His warm breath trailed up the same direction, immediately causing tiny bumps to form over the young woman’s body. Damsel sniveled in reaction when Dante slid his lips up to her chin. He paused, finally stopping right in front of her lips.

They were only a breath away from each other.

“You smell pleasantly…” Dante started in a husky voice, with eyes halfway closed, “… horny.”

                The young woman underneath tried to talk but couldn’t. Her body was moist all over, including the area between her legs. Damsel regretted wearing a miniskirt today. Of course Dante smelled her. She smelled her. But that was the least of her worries. She couldn’t breathe properly. She was panting, the organ beneath her chest pounding loud enough for Dante to hear. She was glad she was lying on the pool table since she would’ve fallen on her ass ages ago. Dante was too powerful, too much for any woman or man to handle. It was no wonder why everyone flocked to him, even when he left them high and dry.

Damsel trembled when Dante’s fingers wrapped around the strings of her underwear. He pulled them down, sliding off the material inch by inch. All the while, his eyes were set directly on hers, his lips dangerously close to hers. Damsel wanted to lift her head to press them together but resisted. The look in his eyes indicated that was what he wanted her to do. Damsel tried to control any deliberate actions on her part, not wanting to give him that satisfaction.

Her eyes caught sight of the pink flimsy fabric moving over her knees. Her breath hitched when the underwear descended the slope her bent legs made. Damsel moaned louder and she didn’t resist when Dante moved again, this time lower. Lifting her head, she saw a nasty grin settle over his face again, his head moving between her legs. She felt his lips gently lick the inner part of her left cheek, right near her exposed gender. Trembling again, Damsel’s head settled back down.

                Oh god, she thought, Dante was going to eat her inside out. Right now. On top of his pool table. Her nails scratched the surface of the table, waiting in anticipation, wanting to feel Dante’s wet tongue slide right into her hole and wiggle inside until she came. Or better yet, his length. She heard all the stories concerning his size. Some called it legendary. Others called it frightening. People in the streets knew when a girlfriend got laid by the way she had trouble walking or sitting.

                Seven? Eight inches? To hell with pride. If Dante wanted her, then he was free to take her. This was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. Was he the aggressive type? Or the passionate type? Would he be as divine as Rainbow had been that night?

                Moments passed and Damsel remained on the table. Her eyes fixed on the ceiling, she couldn’t sense Dante make another move. She couldn’t hear him either. Her breathing going more and more desperate, Damsel grew anxious and tried not to groan in frustration. She regretted not kissing him earlier. While she didn’t want to appear desperate, her hormones were demanding immediate results. Youth and impatience wanted it fast. Unlike Dante and all the older adults who long passed that stage, she wasn’t in the mood to wait for ages to savor an orgasm. She had the rest of her time to learn how to do that. The young woman wanted it right now.

                Tossing self-control to the wind, Damsel gathered the strength to sit up and make her demands known. She frowned.

Dante was gone.

Looking around the office, he was nowhere to be seen. Confused, Damsel got off the pool table, her feet kicking to the ground. She hit something hard but soft.

                “Hey, watch it, sweetheart.”

                Damsel gasped.

                Dante was sitting on the floor, right under her. He was reading off a crumbled sheet of paper, her pink underwear near him.

Damsel took a step back from Dante and recognized what was in his hand. Touching her bare ass to confirm what she thought was missing, she immediately kicked him.

                “You creep!” she yelled. “You mean to tell me…? Right now…? Just to get…? Asshole!”

                “Oh, c’mon.” Dante laughed even as she kicked him in the arm. “You told me to kiss your ass. I did. Now we’re even.”

                “Give that back to me!”

                “Aw, honey, don’t be that way. Go play a game of pool. I’m busy reading this.”

                “Client confidentiality, you damn jerk!” Damsel declared and kicked him again. “Client confidentiality!”

                She swung her leg for another round of abuse. This time, however, Dante caught it. Damsel yelped and struggled to set her foot free but Dante’s hands held onto her. When she almost fell backward Dante sighed and set the paper down. He stood and took a step forward while bending Damsel’s leg at the knee to close the gap between them. Lifting her up by her bare crotch with the other hand, Dante placed her back down on the pool table.

                “Sit down and be quiet,” he commanded.

                Shocked by what just happened, Damsel’s mouth was wide open. He just… With just one hand… Her crotch…

Damsel was speechless.

                Dante looked at his glossy hand and appeared impressed. “Damn. You’re really wet, babe.”

                Damsel remained quiet while he entered a door behind his desk. The sound of water running from a faucet was heard shortly. Several seconds later, Dante reemerged. It was until he came near the pool table that Damsel tipped over like a frozen statue, her side hitting the pool table. She didn’t blink.

Frowning, Dante snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.

                “Doll face…? Still with me?” Dante sighed after not getting a response. He went back to the other side of the room and grabbed a bottle of water from his desk. He splashed it over Damsel’s face.

                Out of her trance, the young woman gasped and sat erect. “What…? Huh…? Where…?”

                It took Damsel awhile to fully come to, her gray eyes wide and blinking. While she settled back to her usual self, Dante grabbed the crumbled paper from the floor and resumed where he left off. He was done with the first questions. He wanted to laugh at some of Seth’s answers, especially the one where he didn’t believe in Devils. It was a damn shame he never got the chance to tell him what he was, at least to get a freaked out reaction from him.

Dante was about to read the next question but a hand grabbed his wrist. Dante looked up. Despite having just gone through a major freak out, Damsel finally recovered.

                “You can’t read that, Dante. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything to you but Paranormal Fives takes client confidentially very seriously. Rainbow placed his complete trust in me. No one but me knows he wrote that.”

                “It’s supposed to be anonymous. I get that. But the fact you know it was him who wrote it defeats the whole purpose of an anonymously-treated questionnaire.”

                “Maybe. But he knows I would’ve read it. He gave it to me in person, at club ICE.” Damsel looked slightly away and said in a low tone, “Rainbow had something to tell me. This was his way of saying it.”

                Dante gave her back the paper. Or rather, crushed it and threw it on the floor. “His name’s Seth. Stop calling him ‘Rainbow’ damn it. It’s Seth. And no, he didn’t have anything to say to you. You gave him a survey to fill out and he gave you what you wanted. Stop reading more into it.”

                Damsel immediately noted the pitch in his voice. His eyes were intense too. She must’ve pushed a red button.

Damsel took a deep swallow. “Rainbow is my friend. Besides, what’s your problem? My group is inquiring information about the paranormal. I have solid reason to inquire about Seth’s answers. What’s your excuse?”

                Getting off the pool table, Damsel retrieved the crumbled paper and her underwear from the floor. While she slid the piece back on, Dante headed back to his desk without answering her question.

                “Are you jealous?” she asked.

                Dante stopped in his tracks. He turned around. “What?”

                “You heard me. Are-you-jealous?”

                “You better leave, Damsel.” He kept walking. “You know the way out.”

                “It’s a simple question. I mean… you haven’t told me Rainbow’s address and right now you’re throwing a hissy fit. Are you pissed Rainbow can communicate with me better than with you? Does it bother you I can call him ‘Rainbow’ because he told me he likes that name?”

                “Damsel, I swear. If you want to live past today, I suggest you leave. Now.”

                “So you say. But you still haven’t answered my question.” She leaned against the pool table, appearing self-assured of herself now. Damsel smiled a little, gazing up at the ceiling. In a soft voice, she inserted, “You don’t deserve Rainbow. You’re too hard for a soft guy like him. You should set him free so he can find someone else who really cares about him.”

                Dante was within a foot of his desk when he turned around again. He was silent. Dead silent. If Enzo were present he would’ve high-tailed it. Unfortunately, Damsel couldn’t read Dante’s behavior as well as his informant did. The young woman remained by the pool table, crossing her arms.

                “But he chose you,” resumed the young woman and looked at him now, “Rainbow chose you over me. And while I still think you’re a major slut… I have to respect his decision. Who knows, maybe the two of you really do belong to each other.”

Damsel headed toward the door. She paused, however, placing the crumbled survey on the pool table. “You keep this. I have the original one anyway.”

She left, closing the door softly behind her.

Dante sat on his desk. The grandfather chimed once before ticking quietly again. He held his breath and let it out slowly, feeling his body relax again. He was both irritated and calm.

In many ways, Dante felt disappointed at himself. He should’ve told Damsel Seth’s address. Other than spite, there was no other excuse to hold back that information. He and Seth weren’t together anymore so Damsel was entitled to know his whereabouts. Yes, he’d see him again, but it would strictly be for business and only business. Seth was a suspect, after all, someone he’d have to question. That was it.

For a second, Dante contemplated over going after Damsel to give her Seth’s address. Two steps forward, though, and he stopped.

God, he wished he didn’t feel this way.

The investigator in him wanted to visit Seth’s apartment and question him, at least to clear some unsettlingly thoughts away. The wounded man, on the other hand, wanted to stay away, finding it too painful. And then there was the lover, the one who was desperate in seeing, hearing, and smelling Seth one more time, longing for his touch. He was almost glad Damsel didn’t know about the breakup.

Dante walked toward the pool table, staring at the crumbled survey Damsel left behind. Everything seemed to point to one thing. He had to see him again. As difficult as that would be, there had to be some type of closure, both on a business and personal level.

***

Lance slowly hung up his cell phone, his eyes wild. Outside of the meat factory, he sat alone in one of the benches. The hot sun penetrated him, causing him to break into a sweat. Lance didn’t care. Putting his phone on the bench, he covered his face with both hands. His mouth extremely dry, Lance was glad to be sitting down since he knew his legs would’ve given out. The news he just received was too upsetting to fully comprehend. Never in a million years did he expect to hear something so disturbing like that before. And it was so sudden, so unexpected. Why, just a few days ago, things were all right. There was nothing to indicate things were taking a nasty turn for the worse. Yet, Lance recalled the conversation just now. While it still sounded too surreal to believe, it finally started to settle in. When it did, Lance didn’t know whether to be severely pissed or severely devastated.

Lance immediately stood and charged back into the factory. Everyone was getting back from their lunch break. Hopefully, his advisor was one of them. Quickly making his way to the second floor, Lance was relieved when he found him just entering his office.

“Sir, I have an emergency, can I take half the day off?”

“Absolutely not,” a tall man with red hair replied with a laugh. “Whatever happened, you should’ve dealt with it during your lunch break.”

“But I… I just received the news right now.”

“I’m sorry, Lance, but the results of your group’s ethics tests are in. It’s important everyone be present when the EO arrives.”

Lance glowered. “Sir, this really is urgent.”

“Lance, you know the rules.”

His advisor entered his office before he had the chance to go any further into the issue. Lance clenched his fists, having an incredible urge to punch the wall.

“You look mighty peeved,” a high pitched voice said from behind.

Lance turned and found two of his fellow coworkers. Edgar was fair colored, with a short but well built frame. Michael, on the other hand, was taller and skinny. Both were young. Trying to earn money on the side to pay for their college tuition, they were the youngest in the factory. While they were the only ones who talked to him, Lance didn’t consider them close friends. Any time lunch was around the corner they quickly left just to avoid him. He couldn’t blame them, really. After all, who wanted to hang out with an old fart like him? It was only because he knew the ropes around this place and no one wanted to bother with them that they talked to him at all.

“Sorry we missed you,” Michael inserted in a scratchy voice. “We were about to call you over for lunch but, well, we got hung up.”

Lance wanted to say, ‘no need to have an excuse’. Instead, he replied, “No need to explain yourselves. I understand.”

“So, what’s up?” inquired Edgar with the same high pitch voice from earlier.

“There’s an emergency and I have to go but Wilks won’t let me leave.”

“Yeah. He can be an asshole.”

“What happened?” asked Michael.

“It sounds serious.”

One of the things that annoyed Lance about these kids was how nosy they were. They had a terrible habit of sticking their noses into other people’s business. Still, he had to play nice with them.

“I need to see someone. He needs my help.”

“Don’t tell me, it’s your dog again.” Michael crossed his arms. “He’s sick, ain’t he?”

Lance paused. “Yes… He’s sick. He needs my help.”

“Aw, man,” said Edgar, scratching his head. “You’re gonna get into real trouble because of that stupid mutt. You’re already taking scraps to feed him. If Wilks or Jan ever discover you’re taking food from the factory your ass will be toast.”

“If you ask me, that dog is a lot of trouble,” added Edgar. “You should ditch him.”

Lance frowned at them. “I thought we agreed not to talk about this.”

“Oops, sorry,” chuckled Edgar. “My bad.”

The other man laughed too. “Yeah. Don’t worry, we’ll be quiet.”

Lance sighed. He hated that they knew he was taking food from the factory. They had no idea how much food he’d actually taken or that he had the missing keys to the maintenance room in the basement, but they knew enough. Naturally, they discovered it because they were being nosy sons-of-a-bitches. He had to play nice with them, though, and pay both twenty bucks every week just to keep them quiet. It wasn’t enough they kept taking his money, but they couldn’t keep their mouths shut. At this rate, it’d only be a matter of time before they spoke too loud or spoke to the wrong person.

“Where are you going?” asked Michael as Lance walked away.

“I need to take a piss,” Lance grumbled back, even when he had no intentions of going to the restroom.

***

                “Rainbow? Are you there? Please pick up. It’s me, Damsel. I’ve been calling you forever. At least call me back. I’m worried about you. It’s important we talk.”

                For a moment, he considered calling her back but decided against it. After all, what would he say? Hi, Damsel. It’s nice talking to you again. I saw you on the news yesterday. Wow, you’re famous. Sorry for not answering all of your messages, by the way. I’m having personal issues right now. Huh? How am I? Well, I just had a fine meal, currently wearing an expensive suit, talked to a dear friend an hour ago, listened to great music, and am about to kill myself right now. And how are you?

                No. That wouldn’t do. And it wasn’t like he could lie to her by saying he was going to see her again and not to worry about him. That was all bull crap and Damsel deserved much better. They developed a connection and he’d rather her go on believing he had gone to some exotic place like Tibet, met a group of gypsies along the way, started a heavy metal band with them that played nothing but eighties music, and dressed like prom queens.

                Standing in front of his long bedroom mirror, Seth adjusted his tie. He donned an all-purple suit, which fit smugly against his lean and tall frame. Surrounding him were remnants of his ‘going-out party’. On a small portable table was a half-eaten vanilla cake and ice cream that started to melt. Balloons and ribbons containing all colors of the rainbow floated across the ceiling. Meanwhile, New Order’s ‘Truth Faith’ played in the CD player.

                Seth straightened his tie one more time before grabbing a lipstick from the top dresser. He carefully applied bright pink rouge on his lips.

“I feel so extraordinary…” he sang along. “Something’s got a hold on me… I get this feeling I’m in motion… A sudden sense of liberty… I don’t care ‘cause I’m not there… And I don’t care if I’m here tomorrow…”

Seth smacked his lips together and put the lipstick away. He opened a desk drawer and took several candle sticks out. Then he headed toward his bed.

“Again and again I’ve taken too much…” he continued singing, “Of the things that cost you too much… I used to think that the day would never come… I’d see delight in the shade of the morning sun… My morning sun is the drug that brings me near…”

Seth checked the needles and the large bag of snowflakes on his bed. It was enough to kill three elephants and more. He’d need to liquefy the drug on the roof since the smell would, undoubtedly, alarm the neighbors. The last thing he wanted was for them to call the paramedics.

“To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear… I used to think that the day would never come… That my life would depend on the morning sun…”

Seth hummed the rest of the words to himself. For a second, he contemplated on leaving a ‘goodbye cruel world’ letter. The gesture sounded too corny, though, and he gathered all the necessary objects he needed to take up to the roof instead. He stuffed them all in a Duffy bag. Once that was accomplished, he grabbed several balloons and a purple Carebear from the windowsill. Seth checked his apartment one more time, making sure it was neat and tidy. He left enough cake for anyone who wandered in. He also left an envelope with this month’s rent on top of the TV. Other than those little things, there wasn’t much left to do. Seth turned off all the lights, leaving only the CD player on. Then he locked up.

A few minutes later Seth was on the rooftop, the cool wind brushing against his face. He saw the evening sky approach, observing the vivid shades of orange and dark blues. Seth took a moment to look at it, almost crying from its sheer brilliance. It was such a beautiful, peaceful night. He was almost tempted to go back to the room to grab a guitar and play a song. But he chose not to. Instead, he settled at a spot near a ledge and set his things down.

In his head, Seth heard the rest of ‘True Faith.’ He hummed its melody, forcing himself to smile. No regrets, he told himself. And why should he? He made the most of today. He did all that he wanted to do, minus uphold a promise he made a long time ago and see Dante one last time. At least he had a Carebear to remind him of that crazy night they had together.

Smiling at that last thought, Seth secured the balloons to a fallen brick from the roof’s ledge. Afterward, he fired a portable burner and placed a pot pan on top, filling it with the large bag of coke he brought with him. While waiting for the drug to liquefy, Seth placed many candles around him. Yes, he was going to kill himself, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make the scenery a little nicer.

“When I was a very small boy, very small boys talked to me…” Seth sang quietly when he finally sat down on the cold pavement of the rooftop. He looked at the Carebear sitting across him. “Now that we’ve grown up together… They’re afraid of what they see… That’s the price that we all pay… And the value of destiny comes to nothing… I can’t tell you where we're going… I guess there was just no way of knowing…”

Somewhere between his singing, Seth wondered what the point of living was. His entire existence was full of misery and regret. He came here for a fresh start and actually found a promising life. Not only did he prove to himself that he could make it on his own, but he discovered someone real intriguing along the way. But, again, the Animal ruined it for him. The Animal was never far away, no matter how far he tried to run from it. Now, the city was the Animal’s new playground and Dante was its new whore.

Just like Phil Le…

Seth lowered his head, slowly recalling Dante’s face. He really was a beautiful, passionate man. Unfortunately, he was also emotionally unstable. Remembering the day of their breakup, he was frightened by Dante’s words and actions. It was as if the Animal possessed him and was speaking through him. That was impossible, of course, but it really seemed that way. Seth hoped Dante would wake up soon. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up like the Animal. They already made a brilliant pair.

The powder in the pot started to bubble and Seth turned off the burner. He let the chemical cool down awhile before grabbing many needles and injecting the drug into each of them. Afterward, he lined them up and stared at them.

Death by overdose. Either it’d give him a really good high or downright kill him. Both had its benefits but Seth was leaning toward the latter. This was his only chance. His body’s healing capabilities made it impossible for him to die naturally. Severed appendages quickly repaired themselves or replaced missing parts. Likewise, bullets and knife wounds automatically healed. Whatever that was keeping him strong and alive, had also prevented immediate death.

Part of Seth was tempted to use silver but he never believed in any of that fairy tale bullshit. At least an overdose was a good way to die and presented the most promise. The only setback back was that it wasn’t a full guarantee it’d work. While his body was susceptible to the effects of many chemicals, it was also very resilient against them. Seth could only hope he had enough coke to force his body to go into a cardiac arrest, causing it to overload and crash. The body couldn’t heal what was already in his bloodstream, right?

He had to try. He was tried of living like this, tired of the Animal getting the best of him. In a way, it was a good thing Dante and him broke up. There was nothing to cling onto. It was time for the happy and foolish clown to bow out.

“I feel so… extraordinary…” Seth sang very slowly, “Some… something’s got a hold on me… I-I get this feeling I’m…” Seth wiped his face from the inevitable tears that started flowing down his cheeks. He grabbed the first needle and pushed it into an arm vein. “A sudden sense of … I don’t… And I-I don’t… care if I’m here… if I’m here… t-tomorrow…”

                Seth squeezed in the chemical into his system. Then he added a second. After the twentieth shot, Seth mentally told himself everything would be all right. He could sleep now. He could forever dream of things he’d never have in real life. He could sleep somewhere in a place full of blue with the wind blowing against his face. No more sorrow. No more pain. No more Animal. He’d be free of it all.

                Seth stabbed the rest of needles into his arm, one after another. Each time, his head started to feel light and the heart beneath his chest rapidly beat, trying to keep up with the change of temperature and blood pressure. Even when he was sitting still Seth felt as though he were moving, spinning and twirling. Seth laughed and choked at the same time, the drug’s effect taking hold of him.

                It was a good high, one that grabbed hold of his mind and sent him in some far away place. Seth saw the sky turn to a purple shade of color. The Carebear in front of him smiled and pointed upward, telling him to fly there.

                “Okay…” Seth muttered back; his eyes half closed.

In the clouds, Seth saw Phil Le, a young, skinny man with a shaved head and baggy clothes that smelled of rotten eggs. Phil Le was singing and playing in a beat-up guitar that took the shape of a bright pink, giant-sized banana. He jumped from one cloud to another.

Seth laughed. Phil Le couldn’t sing for shit, he never could, but he still carried a manageable tune. Seth called out to him, hopping from one cloud to the next after him. Each time he tried to catch up, though, the other man giggled and told him he already forgave him. Afterward, he asked if they could sing a duet like they used to in the old days.

                “I’m sorry, Phil Le,” murmured Seth back, “but I left my guitar back in my room.”

                The punk rocker frowned. He told Seth not to call him ‘Phil Le’ anymore.

                “Sorry,” apologized Seth again, chuckling nervously. “Force of habit…”

“Seth?” a male’s voice suddenly called out.

“Huh?”

Seth couldn’t tell which direction it came from. It sounded real intense. For a moment, he thought he recognized it but it was quickly tuned out by Phil Le’s horrible singing.

“Like a Virgin, hey, touched for the very first time…” Seth sang with him. He stopped to say, “Man… that’s a good song.”

Phil Le agreed and played even louder.

Seth tried to catch up to him. His vision grew blurry. The other man jumped from one cloud to another faster and faster. Seth told him to slow down but Phil Le never did. He kept moving forward and soon Seth started to cry.

“Don’t leave me!” he yelled after him. “Please, come back! I won’t call you Phil Le anymore!”

Phil Le didn’t stop.

“Oh God!” Seth sobbed, “Stop! Wait for me!” Seth couldn’t choke back his tears. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I didn’t know what happened! I’m so sorry the Animal did that to you! I won’t call you Phil Le anymore! I promise! Please, come back!”

Phil Le never did. He was gobbled up by the moon.

“What the fuck, Seth? Who are you talking to?” It was the other voice again.

Seth couldn’t determine where it came from. It was hard to tell since his vision was getting blurry. Still concerned over Phil Le’s fate, Seth reached out to the moon and tried to save him but his head rang with an incredible pain.

Seth immediately fell backward and started to convulse.

“Seth!” the same voice called out. It was quickly followed by, “Jesus! Goddamn it, Seth…! Goddamn it, you stupid fucking prick! What the hell did you do! What the hell did you do!”

                His mouth foaming with a mixture of saliva, drugs, and blood, Seth couldn’t answer back. He felt someone tugging him and thought it was the Carebear telling him it was time to wake up and go to work. He couldn’t tell for sure, though. His mind in a daze, Seth’s vision remained distorted. The yelling grew louder. Seth wanted to find the remote to lower the television’s volume but his mind shut down and everything went pitch black.

-----------------------

A/N: This is it for awhile, guys. While I got this story done, I added a few scenes in the other chapters. It’ll take me awhile to flesh them out and make sure they flow with the rest of the story. The moment I feel comfortable of the next chapters, I’ll post them up. ^_^

Hopefully you guys are seeing interesting things about Seth’s past and why he’s obsessed with the eighties. And for those wondering, ‘wtf was all that stuff in the end about?’ Seth was in a drugged state. He didn’t really fly and follow anyone playing a banana guitar in the sky. :-P
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