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  DANTE

  & THE

  DARK SEED

  C. J. PIZZURRO

  Dante and the Dark Seed

  Copyright © 2021 by C. J. Pizzurro. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author.

  www.cjpizzurro.com

  Dear Reader,

  It’s that time again, where you open a book that you’re excited to read. But, unlike most writers, I didn’t plan on thanking or dedicating this book to my amazing wife or my amazing friends that have helped me throughout this process.

  I didn’t plan on thanking my high school English teacher that gave me my allotted dose of ego boost, which helped me believe in myself when others didn’t.

  I didn’t plan to thank my writing mentor, either, but I am.

  In fact, I had planned to dedicate this book to you, the reader and protagonist of your own tale. I’ve spent many nights thinking about you, imagining you turning the pages and smiling. I imagined you in shock. I imagined tears running down your cheeks. But, most importantly, I imagined you using what you’ve learned to help humanity shift into a new era of balance.

  C. J.

  Ode to Humanity

  After the seventh cataclysm had scourged Terra Firma, the days of Dark Sky soon followed, blotting out the Sun with the ash of life burnt asunder

  Life had once more been decimated, but some yet remained, buried deeply under the soot

  Trees that were once mighty were now but a shadow of their former selves, becoming mesas and plateaus

  All of the Earth’s water receded into the Earth

  Showing only glimpses of Earth’s past, the skies parted and a wind from on high blew, uncovering much of what was lost

  Eon’s had passed but life teemed with possibility once more, ingrained with the data of its former self

  Soon, the waters flowed and the nearly hairless bipeds, known as humans flocked to the water's edge

  With only a glimmer of their luminous past, they survived as they contrived, doing the best with what they knew

  But everything the humans knew had not come to them naturally

  My kind since time immemorial have been tasked with keeping an eye on you

  Aiding those in need and, at times when the moment requires for the host most heavenly to upend the Seven Below, who toiled to do the same

  Only a fortunate few ever learned of our existence. Restricted only to the pages of books, some deemed us to be metaphors

  Only time would tell if either faction, would need to intervene

  Remember your Light

  DANTE

  & THE

  DARK SEED

  Prologue

  Samsara

  1987

  It was a cool evening in Anaheim, California, on the eve of November the eleventh. George Luciano sat on the couch as the day’s last gleams of light poured through the window. Earlier that evening, George had gone through the effort of making his wife’s favorite meal, chicken cacciatore. Elayna, radiating with the glow of being with child, had just finished rinsing and placing the last plate in the drying rack when a stream of fluid flowed from between her legs.

  “Honey, my water broke!”

  “Yes, finally!” George yelled as he rose and threw the paper onto the couch. This would be George and Elayna’s first child together after they were wedded four years ago.

  George bolted up the stairs, bellowing, “You just sit tight, dear. I’m going to call my dad real quick!”

  “Honey!” Elayna said, waddling to the base of the stairs.

  “You need me to get you some new clothes while I’m up here? They’re just going to get you something new at the birthing center.”

  “Just bring me something dry. Anything!”

  “Sweetheart, relax.”

  “I am relaxed!”

  George called his father. “It’s happening, pops.” Then he hung up the phone and raced to the closet, grabbing his wife’s favorite floral maternity dress. It was white and covered in hand-sewn, navy-blue hibiscus flowers, yellow stamens and all. Upon catching his reflection in the mirror above their chest of drawers, George looked at himself with a smile. With thoughts of his child soon to enter this world, George wiped a ball of fuzz from the stubble on his olive-skinned face.

  “I’m gonna be a dad,” George said as he fixed his short, black hair. Then he grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom and hurried down the stairs.

  Elayna stood at the base, gripping the arm rail then leaned on George as he helped her pull off her dress. As she stood there with wet legs and outstretched arms, George wiped her down and pulled the dress over her head. Not able to contain his glee, he stared at how perfect she looked. Her hair was as golden as the first day they met, and her skin glowing enough to compete with the setting sun’s last light.

  “Hey, get my dress off the floor,” Elayna demanded.

  “Let me get you to the hospital, how about that?” George replied as he helped her into her dress and out to the car. They hopped in and George peeled out of the driveway, leaving a trail of rubber.

  Arriving at the hospital, George helped his wife inside.

  “Okay, ma’am, how far apart are your contractions?” a nurse asked.

  Amid her deep breaths, Elayna responded with a smile, “Long enough to get up to the room.”

  With a short laugh, the nurse handed George some paperwork and they were escorted to their room.

  “Sweet, it’s finally happening, honey.”

  “I know, George.” Elayna groaned. “I’m the one who’s gotta squeeze out this little nugget of joy.”

  George waited by his wife’s side as the hospital staff made sure all the bits and bobs were ready for yet another successful birth at Fountain Valley Hospital.

  A nurse they had not yet seen came into the room. He was tall and muscular, almost bulging out of his white scrubs, with long, brown hair down to his shoulders. “Hello, ma’am, Dr. Katz will be right with you folks, but she wanted me to come get your vitals.”

  Elayna was a goddess, embracing the sacred feminine within while breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. With each passing minute, the time between her surges seemed to lessen.

  “Great breath work, ma’am, first child?” he asked.

  Elayna nodded.

  The man took his stethoscope and placed it on her chest. “Lungs sound great. You two seem like you’ll make great parents.”

  Elaine smiled and moaned. “Thank you, sir.”

  The nurse smiled and headed toward the door.

  “Please see to it that Dr. Katz comes soon. I’m having a quick labor.”

  And just as Elayna said that Dr. Katz and the nurse crossed paths at the entryway.

  “Thank you, Michael, I’ll take it from here.” She took the files from Michael and walked in. Dr. Beverly Katz was a dainty, half-Japanese, half-Jewish woman that got all stellar reviews from their friends around town. “So, we’re progressing nicely, aren’t we?”

  “Just like we hoped,” George said.

  Dr. Katz wheeled over a tiny cart with a screen attached, then took out a tube of gel and squirted some onto Elayna’s belly.

  Michael came back into the room to stand watch. By now it was past 10:00 p.m., and Elayna’s contractions were intensifying. Dr. Katz moved the paddle around until they saw images of their little one holding up its hands, covering its little ears.

  A flash came from the panel and the screen shut off, then all the lights in the room did the same.

  Each room beside the
irs lost power, but they thought nothing of it after the lights came back on. Dr. Katz tried to reset the ultrasound, but it wouldn’t turn back on.

  “Michael, go get me another sonogram from the next room over.”

  Michael did, and in no time they were looking at their little one on the monitor.

  “Ooo, I think the baby is…coming.” Elayna moaned.

  With no time to spare, Dr. Katz shoved the ultrasound to the corner and helped Elayna spread her legs, to find that the baby was beginning to crown.

  “Wow! Okay, push, Elayna!” Dr. Katz encouraged as the clock struck eleven. For the next eleven minutes, Elayna gave it her all until their bouncing baby boy came into the world. Dr. Katz wiped off the little one as he cried.

  “Kid’s got some pipes,” George joked with the widest smile he ever had in his life. And with a smile of her own, Dr. Katz handed Elayna their newest addition to the family.

  His name would be Dante Christopher Luciano, born on the eleventh of November, at 11:11 p.m., at Fountain Valley Hospital.

  “Congratulations, I’d have to say that this has been by far the most interesting birth I’ve ever experienced. The lights going out? An omen, perhaps?”

  “Nonsense, our son will be a child of light.”

  The news soon made it to the waiting room, where George’s father, Vito, and his mother, Edna, waited. Vito was the child of two Sicilian immigrants who worked hard to give him a life of opportunity, keeping him away from a life of crime and the mafia. Through years of studying and hard work, he became a missile guidance specialist at NASA.

  Suffice it to say, Vito had more than enough money to throw around, so he splurged on a top-of-the-line camera to immortalize occasions such as this.

  When they were able to go see their grandchild, they ran through the doors with fervor. Vito and Edna were told Room 13, but in Vito’s haste, he entered Room 18. He readied his camera and flashes ensued.

  With each click, Edna looked on in horror. Turns out they’d interrupted a Chinese family doing what they desired, welcoming their newest addition.

  So Vito and Edna apologized as the kind people smiled, thinking nothing of it. They then went where they had meant to go, and once they were sure they found the correct room, Vito proceeded to lay an onslaught of clicks and flashes.

  Chapter One

  Canis Familiaris

  Ten Years Later

  The date was July 4 in the year 1998, and Dante’s baby sister, Amy, slept in her crib, growing golden strands of hair reminiscent of the mother she never met. Thaddeus, the white German Shepard mix, stood guard right outside her door. Thaddeus would have laid his arthritic body there for another few hours, but ten-year-old Dante had crawled within an inch of the watchdog.

  “Do you wanna go potty?”

  Thaddeus opened his eyes and yawned, blasting rancid wind right into Dante’s face.

  “You wanna go potty, boy?” Dante asked again, then moseyed down the stairs.

  The dog barked.

  “Dante, keep the dog quiet,” George said as he enjoyed his grapefruit.

  Dante brought his finger to his lips.

  “Shh, Thad. Amy is sleeping.”

  Thaddeus’s ears flattened and he trudged to the back hall where Dante let him out. It was a humid morning as Dante stood there, watching his dog do his business. Thaddeus trotted back inside the best his old bones would allow, headed to the kitchen, and stared at the bag of food next to his empty bowl.

  “What do you have planned this beautiful Fourth of July morning, son?”

  “Dawayne and I are supposed to hang out.”

  Thaddeus furled his lips and barked.

  “Quiet, Thad,” George admonished.

  “Dad, you're pretty loud yourself. We don’t want to wake up Amy.”

  “She’s fine, son.”

  The dog barked again.

  “Quiet down, Thad!” George bellowed.

  Not a moment later, Amy’s cries could be heard on the baby monitor.

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Dante said.

  He opened the door to find his new best friend, Dawayne, standing there, holding what Dante presumed to be a gun case.

  “Well, are you going to let me in?”

  “I’ll consider it,” Dante said with a smile. “Just get in here already.”

  Thaddeus growled at Dawayne, baring his teeth as he entered.

  “Stop it, Thad! Go to your bed,” Dante ordered.

  Thaddeus slumped off to the family room with his tail between his legs.

  As Dante shut the door, he saw his father come down the stairs with Amy in tow.

  She was so tiny, not even sixteen pounds. She kept her eyes on Dawayne.

  “Have you eaten yet?”

  George stared at Dawayne to reemphasize his question, while Dante leaned in, asking him, “Want some food?”

  “Depends on what you’re offering.”

  “Help yourself to whatever is in here, but just don’t load up on the sweet stuff.”

  Dante got out two bowls and spoons. George always had a feeling Dawayne wasn’t well-fed, just by how the kids looked like they were conspiring to keep it a secret. Dante went right for the Wheat-O’s, while Dawayne went straight for the Toasty Cinnamon Crunches.

  Dante walked over to the table and sat down.

  George leaned over. “So, Dante said ya wanna go hunting later?”

  “Yes, sir, that’s correct. I built a blind in the woods and I wanted to show it to Dante and maybe, just maybe, shoot a few things.”

  “Deer?” George asked.

  “Can’t, I’m not old enough. But I set a few traps the other day, so maybe I caught something.”

  “Yeah, I just have to put on some more fluorescent clothes, so nobody shoots me on a holiday,” Dante commented.

  “Yeah, I’d prefer my son didn’t get shot on any day, okay thanks.”

  A rumbling came from Amy’s rump.

  “Was that a poot, Ms. Poopy Pants?” George asked but as soon as the words left his lips, he began feeling a warmth coming from her backside.

  As the boys ran upstairs, George stood there for another moment. So he took a deep breath through his mouth, and muttered to himself, “More like Dependents Day.”

  The boys put on whatever fluorescent clothes they could find.

  “Wow, you stick out like a sore thumb,” Dawayne said, looking at his friend’s Albert Einstein shirt and orange vest.

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s head out, shall we?” Dante asked. As they headed down the stairs, Dante announced, “Dad, we’re leaving.”

  “Okay, son, just don’t leave me too long with Miss Poopy Pants and be safe.”

  “You got it, Dad. Love you.”

  “I love you too, son.”

  Dawayne picked up his gun case and the boys left.

  Dawayne was born on April 12, 1987. Seeing as how he was more than a few months older, Dante put his faith in him.

  The sun hadn’t been up for long, so the dew from the grass brushed against their ankles as the boys made it to the street.

  “Does your mom know you’re gone?” Dante asked.

  “My mom doesn’t care if I’m gone.”

  “You should at least be grateful your mom is still alive.”

  “Nope, I’d rather be in your situation.”

  “Well, that sucks,” Dante said, shaking his head.

  “Your dad is nice and feeds you, while mine isn’t around.”

  “I still wouldn’t want my mom dead,” Dante mumbled.

  While the boys walked, Dawayne mulled over Dante’s words, You don’t know what she’s like, Dante. Dawayne’s listless eyes were that of a boy who was numb inside.

  “The trail is over there, beside that house.”

  “Okay, cool,” Dante said, feeling unease creep into his belly, and a pressure built in his forehead as he noticed what looked to be people up ahead.

  “I’ve always wondered what the people who own th
at house look like. They always have the best Christmas decorations,” Dawayne said.

  Never had Dante seen anyone outside their house, but today a woman with long, blonde hair and a man with short, brown hair were tending to the yard. The man leered at them as the boys made it to the wooded trail, where pine straw lined the ground, quieting their steps. Soon, Dante saw the boundless trees and it was indeed as beautiful as he remembered it.

  Chapter Two

  The Dark Seed

  In the land of twilight, neither the sun nor the moon’s light had ever graced the land upon which the Fallen and the Seven Below gathered and conspired. But the beings who dwelled there had a light of their own. Albeit only refractions from the Source, its fiery light illuminated and consumed the entirety of the dark land that they inherited from their Father.

  “Abaddon.” Belphegor’s deep voice shook the chasm.

  “What is it…Belphegor?” Abaddon asked with a voice that carried on the wind, standing in the shadow of his brother.

  A yellow glow emanated from Belphegor’s mouth while smoke seeped from his lips. “The insolent humans are so distracted with their frivolities they have yet to see plans unfolding.”

  “A long time in the making…they’ve been, brother.”

  Their faces were shrouded in darkness as a fire raged from afar, revealing only portions after flits of flame illuminated them so.

  Belphegor stepped back toward his ancient throne, forged from the very same sooty mount from which they were reborn. As he sat, the shadows danced all around, showing Belphegor’s grandiose and bulbous stature. He clasped the armrest made of bone, then raised his massive hand. “Have a seat, brother.”

  Abaddon floated into the light. Spindly his body was, covered by a tattered, dark, cloud-like cowl that moved as he did. Showcasing his large nails and palms, he spurned his brother’s desire. “By now you should know…that I will…do as I please.” Turning his back, his cowl was caught on the hellish breeze.