-The king’s son, Ferdinand, With hair up-staring—then, like reeds, not hair—
Dante closed the book. Finding the quote from the Bard's "Tempest" very true to his situation. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed, what was he doing with his life? He thought about the road that had led up to his current life of madness and murder. His mind flashed back to a few weeks back...
"What the hell was that, Lockman?" Yelled Dante's boss in his office. Dante, who was working as a salesman at the local Home Depot at the time, stood in his boss' office, silent. "You knocked over some mailboxes, and a few of our employees, and more than a few of our customers. Customers! Do you know how hard it is to reply to all these complaints while trying to save your arse, Lockman? I'm done with you, out the office, now. You're fired." Said his boss as he picked up the ringing phone and motioned him to leave his office. Dante walked out, head down as he passed his ex-colleagues and put the standard uniform down, putting on his old T-shirt. He walked out of the store, thinking about his plans now that he lost his job. It wasn't the first time he got fired because of some lame accident where he wasn't even responsible for starting. And when he reached home, he flopped onto the bed and slept. A few days later, he trudged to the toilet, thinking that he'd somehow be better. But deep in his mind, he snapped. He stopped dead in his tracks, sensing the psychopath in him unleashed., the hidden personality he had been unaware for years has been let out of his frail cage. He let out a sigh, looking at the mirror and seeing his true personality, a madman who has nothing to lose. He picked up a map of his neighborhood and the surrounding area, circling random houses and finally, the house of his old boss. And then, he looked back at the mirror, picking up his old hockey mask. And then, as slowly as he could, he picked up a dagger...
Dante snapped back into reality, waking up from his trip down memory lane. He took a look at his gallery of masks, and took the Guy Fawkes mask down from the wall. He took a nylon rope from his cabinet and twisted a knot in the middle. After doing all the preparation needed, he stuck the stuff into his bag and walked out of the door.
"How's it going, Poole?" Said Sergeant Payne as he entered the apartment of the victim. "Nothing yet, but I'm sure it's him. The "Messenger", that is." Replied Poole as he continued to snap pictures of the messy apartment. "The Messenger? Who's that?" Asked Payne. "Oh, so you don't know! They gave a nickname to the guy who killed uhh...... Freddie something."Replied Poole. "Ah, that guy. So, another clean cut?" Payne didn't stop asking questions. "Always questioning, I like that! Anyway, it would seem that our victim here was killed by the same M.O.-Which is, a clean cut to his throat. But I'd like to run some tests on the body." Payne looked at the dead boy- He couldn't be more than 25 years old, poor boy. "We're contacting his friends and family, sir." Chirped Milo as he walked in through the door. "You do that, Milo. Poole, send me the results as soon as you receive them." "Yes sir," replied Poole and Milo.
Dante walked towards Keanu Walk, passing the Rosewall Asylum, he remembered the tragic incarceration of his more or less crazy grandfather...
-1983, Rosewall Asylum, Shadowlake City-
"Wait! Grandpa! No! Don't...Don't take him away..." Little Dante's yell fell into a silent weep as tears streamed down his red cheeks. He watched silently as the men from the Asylum pulled his grandfather into a van, and his weep slowly turned into a sulk as the van disappeared from view. His grandparents and his father were his only family. And now his most beloved grandfather was locked into a nuthouse for being unnatural. Inside young Dante, a little part of his innocence died. That was the moment when he learned that life just wasn't fair.
Dante passed the now abandoned asylum and walked towards his target, leaving the tragic memory buried deep in his mind.
As he came out of the elevator, he looked at the door of his victim's apartment. Not wanting to waste time, he quickly surveyed the scene, making sure that nobody was around, and started to pick the lock. A slight click came from the door and before you knew it, he was silently creeping up his victim. He wore his mask, readied his rope and placed it around the woman's neck, and pulled back before she could react. The knot of the rope was right in the middle of the rope, accurately placed on the victim's larynx. Dante applied pressure on the rope, placing his foot on her back and kicked hard. The extra pressure crushed the victim's neck and she fell on the floor, lifeless.
Right when he finished his message, he heard a sharp scream come from the door. He turned and ran towards the window, and jumped. He landed on top of a parked car, and ran into an ally. He removed his mask and pocketed it along with his brush, before examining his injuries. Jumping from the first floor and landing on the car minimized his injury, but a nasty bruise was still left on his arm, the bruise being made from the top of the car. He tucked everything in neatly, making sure nothing seemed out of place and changed into a blue jacket, and walked out of the other side of the ally, walking home as he tried to shake the shrill scream from his mind.
Was the first man that leaped, cried, “Hell is empty
And all the devils are here.”
Dante closed the book. Finding the quote from the Bard's "Tempest" very true to his situation. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed, what was he doing with his life? He thought about the road that had led up to his current life of madness and murder. His mind flashed back to a few weeks back...
"What the hell was that, Lockman?" Yelled Dante's boss in his office. Dante, who was working as a salesman at the local Home Depot at the time, stood in his boss' office, silent. "You knocked over some mailboxes, and a few of our employees, and more than a few of our customers. Customers! Do you know how hard it is to reply to all these complaints while trying to save your arse, Lockman? I'm done with you, out the office, now. You're fired." Said his boss as he picked up the ringing phone and motioned him to leave his office. Dante walked out, head down as he passed his ex-colleagues and put the standard uniform down, putting on his old T-shirt. He walked out of the store, thinking about his plans now that he lost his job. It wasn't the first time he got fired because of some lame accident where he wasn't even responsible for starting. And when he reached home, he flopped onto the bed and slept. A few days later, he trudged to the toilet, thinking that he'd somehow be better. But deep in his mind, he snapped. He stopped dead in his tracks, sensing the psychopath in him unleashed., the hidden personality he had been unaware for years has been let out of his frail cage. He let out a sigh, looking at the mirror and seeing his true personality, a madman who has nothing to lose. He picked up a map of his neighborhood and the surrounding area, circling random houses and finally, the house of his old boss. And then, he looked back at the mirror, picking up his old hockey mask. And then, as slowly as he could, he picked up a dagger...
Dante snapped back into reality, waking up from his trip down memory lane. He took a look at his gallery of masks, and took the Guy Fawkes mask down from the wall. He took a nylon rope from his cabinet and twisted a knot in the middle. After doing all the preparation needed, he stuck the stuff into his bag and walked out of the door.
"How's it going, Poole?" Said Sergeant Payne as he entered the apartment of the victim. "Nothing yet, but I'm sure it's him. The "Messenger", that is." Replied Poole as he continued to snap pictures of the messy apartment. "The Messenger? Who's that?" Asked Payne. "Oh, so you don't know! They gave a nickname to the guy who killed uhh...... Freddie something."Replied Poole. "Ah, that guy. So, another clean cut?" Payne didn't stop asking questions. "Always questioning, I like that! Anyway, it would seem that our victim here was killed by the same M.O.-Which is, a clean cut to his throat. But I'd like to run some tests on the body." Payne looked at the dead boy- He couldn't be more than 25 years old, poor boy. "We're contacting his friends and family, sir." Chirped Milo as he walked in through the door. "You do that, Milo. Poole, send me the results as soon as you receive them." "Yes sir," replied Poole and Milo.
Dante walked towards Keanu Walk, passing the Rosewall Asylum, he remembered the tragic incarceration of his more or less crazy grandfather...
-1983, Rosewall Asylum, Shadowlake City-
"Wait! Grandpa! No! Don't...Don't take him away..." Little Dante's yell fell into a silent weep as tears streamed down his red cheeks. He watched silently as the men from the Asylum pulled his grandfather into a van, and his weep slowly turned into a sulk as the van disappeared from view. His grandparents and his father were his only family. And now his most beloved grandfather was locked into a nuthouse for being unnatural. Inside young Dante, a little part of his innocence died. That was the moment when he learned that life just wasn't fair.
Dante passed the now abandoned asylum and walked towards his target, leaving the tragic memory buried deep in his mind.
As he came out of the elevator, he looked at the door of his victim's apartment. Not wanting to waste time, he quickly surveyed the scene, making sure that nobody was around, and started to pick the lock. A slight click came from the door and before you knew it, he was silently creeping up his victim. He wore his mask, readied his rope and placed it around the woman's neck, and pulled back before she could react. The knot of the rope was right in the middle of the rope, accurately placed on the victim's larynx. Dante applied pressure on the rope, placing his foot on her back and kicked hard. The extra pressure crushed the victim's neck and she fell on the floor, lifeless.
Right when he finished his message, he heard a sharp scream come from the door. He turned and ran towards the window, and jumped. He landed on top of a parked car, and ran into an ally. He removed his mask and pocketed it along with his brush, before examining his injuries. Jumping from the first floor and landing on the car minimized his injury, but a nasty bruise was still left on his arm, the bruise being made from the top of the car. He tucked everything in neatly, making sure nothing seemed out of place and changed into a blue jacket, and walked out of the other side of the ally, walking home as he tried to shake the shrill scream from his mind.
