A/N: Now I have questioned whether it is prudent to publish this story now... especially with all these kidnappings going. Then I realized... I can't exactly let current events dictate my thoughts and work.
Disclaimers: - Of course I don't own DMC... who would write fan fics if they did?
- This is not poke fun at any of the people who reside in the small towns of Charles County, MD. I always say things about the places that surround where I live. (Besides, in my area of town, I'm pretty sure that you could sneeze and fall out to the other side.)
Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it!
The Middle of Nowhere
Chapter 1: Have you seen her?
Darkness was all Joe saw. As far as he could tell, he was tied up and left for dead. He could hear an engine purr to life. There were the sudden bumps, thumps and turns that cemented the belief that he was in the trunk of a car. Joe struggled against his restraints, but his hands and feet were far too numb to be of any use. He tried to scream, but his mouth was duct taped shut as well.
All that could be done was listening to what was around him. Just at his head, was the distinct sound of liquid splashing against is hard plastic container. Its pungent odor wafted into his nostrils. Oh, my God, he thought, is that gasoline?! Am I going to be burned alive?!
Metal clanked at his feet. To him, it could have been anything. It was oddly comforting for him to believe it was tire iron or some other roadside tool. Joe heard something else that sent him into a deeper state of distress. No, it wasn't another object that could have been used as a torture tool. It was the faint sound of the driver singing. It was definitely a male voice and wasn't offensive to the ears. Did it scare him more of the possibility that the driver could be oblivious to his presence or the fact that his future murderer was so calm?
Joe tried to think long and hard about how he got here. The only way to put it was that Death came for him tonight and he had lily-white hair and wore a red leather trench coat.
--
Joe walked up to the bar and ordered the cheapest beer they had. He was a simple man with simple tastes. Joe mainly kept to himself even in very public settings like this bar. This may have been directly attributed to the fact that he wasn't much of a looker. His baby face had oily skin and his fair share of acne. His round, chubby face was framed by ear-length raven hair. His flabby physique left much to be desired and all but killed his self-esteem. Still he was not hounded or harassed, he was left to his own devices. On boring days like today, he'd find himself thinking, I wish something would come along to shake things up. Oh, how he'd soon come to regret that.
That's when he saw a man in red enter the bar with a swagger that exuded supreme confidence. His expressionless face had 'bad-ass-motherfucker' stamped on it. This and his flamboyant clothes were not something one would see everyday in this small Maryland town.
Joe was seated at the far end of the "U" shaped bar, just in front of where the red clad man claimed a stool. Joe could not keep his eyes off the strange man. He watched as the man ordered a strawberry sundae and a double shot of bourbon. There the man sat with the odd combination that kept him suspended somewhere between adulthood and childhood. The man looked up; his piercing blue eyes meeting Joe's browns. The man's glare forced him to look away. Joe continued to carefully look on as the man chatted with the other barflies around him and the bartender. He then pulled out a small photo and passed it along asking, "Have you see this girl?"
Each time the man in red received a, "Nope. Sorry. Ain't seen her around these parts." Could Enzo have been wrong again? "Thanks anyway," he replied. The man took his picture back, paid his tab and left.
Joe was still nursing his bottle of cheap beer. He took a final swig of the bitter-tasting drink. Joe slapped a five down on counter called out over the lousy jukebox music, "Later, Nance. Goodnight, Ed." He walked past a neon sign that held the unappetizing name of the bar, 'The Rusty Bucket'. Joe stepped out of the 'Bucket' and began walking into the cool night air.
Joe knew these mean streets better than anyone. In fact, there wasn't much going on here in La Plata. He was sure that this town isn't marked on any map. The only visitors that passed through were lost due to bad directions from Map Quest.
Joe walked along until he was stopped by a smooth voice, "Hey, you're the guy who was across from me in that bar, right?"
"Yeah," Joe's voice was a little uneasy. He turned to face the voice. The man before him stood at about six feet four inches. The man's pale face held youthful features, but his hair was white as snow. He had a wiry, muscular build, not that of a body builder's. His bright red coat wisped behind him in the breeze like a cape.
Joe wasn't thin, nor was he a short man; if he had any faith in himself, he would have believed that he would have been able to take him. The platinum haired man shouldn't have intimidated him. Still the man's features reminded him of the vampire in the horror movies he collected. Joe nearly pissed his pants when he thought the man before him was a blood-sucking creature of the night.
"I must have missed you back at the bar," Dante said to the dark haired man in front of him, "Have you seen her?" Dante handed Joe the photo from earlier. It was a little red headed girl with big, bright green eyes.
The words were simple but it echoed in Joe's mind. Have you seen her? Of course he had. A day doesn't go by where he stops thinking about that kid. She was in a parking lot, screaming her head off. Crying for her mama and begging for her teddy bear. Her cries fell on deaf ears when her 'escort' scooped her up and put her into a white van. They probably took her to that place on the grassy hill just on the outskirts of town. Ever since he was little, he was always told people went there and never returned... No questions asked. Everyone else otherwise pretended that they never existed. That's how things were supposed to go around here.
He wanted to tell... to say something, but he was advised to keep his mouth shut. "Go about your business as usual," They told him and he obeyed. You never wanted to get Them angry or else they'd send you to that place on the hill. There must be a reason why they set up shop in this little Podunk town.
"No," Joe lied as he stroked his almost non-existent goatee.
"Have you seen her," Dante repeated his voice a little less friendly as he sensed the young man's lie.
"Hey, man... Why do you care? Kids go missing everyday."
"I make it my business to care. Pity," Dante said tilting his head to the side, "and I thought I'd finally found someone who would be honest with me."
"Wait! Wha—"
"You heard me. There's nothing I hate more than liars." Dante pulled Ivory from her holster.
"Hey—," sweat was beading on Joe's brow.
Dante held the hand gun down to his side and walked casually towards Joe, "Anything you want to say?"
He hesitated just before he pulled out a switchblade and lunged at the man. Pa always told him to defend himself. The blade sunk in deeply earning a sickening squish. He stepped back in disbelief at what he had done. After all, Joe had just quite possibly inflicted a life threatening injury on a man.
Dante growled, "You piss me off. Always gotta make things complicated." Dante glanced down at the hilt buried in his chest, slid the knife out with ease and dropped it on the floor.
"Dude... What are you," Joe whispered, barely comprehending how the man had stopped bleeding. He really is a vampire!
"A little of this, a little of that. You know what? I don't have time for this!" Dante made a move to grab Joe, but he managed to turn tail and run. "I hate it when they run," Dante said with a dramatic sigh just before holstering Ivory and giving chase.
In all of his life Joe had never run so fast. Someone once told him that a sense of danger always gave one a little extra boost. He never really believed it... until now. Joe glanced back to see that Dante was about ten yards behind him. Dante leapt high up into the air. When Joe glanced back again, he saw that the man chasing him was gone. He was completely oblivious to the attack from above. He ran a few more feet before stopping to catch his breath. Joe crouched over with his hands on his knees then stood up slowly realizing it was too quiet.
In the same moment, Dante suddenly crashed on top of the young man. He quickly hopped off, limping away and back. "DAMMIT! Note to self, never do that again." He came closer to the man still lying on the ground. "Hey, guy... You okay," he questioned as he approached slowly. "Hey, dude," this time Dante poked him. He was rewarded with Joe flailing his arms screaming, "Don't eat me!" The man's sudden outburst made Dante take a few steps back in surprise.
"Kid," Dante called again.
Silence.
"Aw, fuck!" Dante had only wanted information about the little girl. He had only wanted to scare the guy a little and he had only wanted to stop the guy from running, not to knock him out! How was he going to explain this? Sorry officer, the guy ran away, so I knocked him the fuck out. Dante took a careful look around to make sure there were no witnesses. When he was sure there were none, he hefted Joe over his shoulder and walked back to his car. He was going to get that information out of him yet.
--
They had come to a stretch of a particularly bumpy road. Joe didn't have to see it to know that he was on the unpaved road near Pope's Creek. A few moments later the car came to a stop. The trunk creaked open, "Good morning, sunshine." The first things he saw were the beautiful night sky and the murderous gleam in Dante's eyes. Joe instantly started sobbing. "Aww... Don't be such a pussy," Dante said in mock consolation, "Take it like a man." This garnered more whimpers from Joe.
Dante turned his attention to two plastic garden chairs sitting on the edge of the rocks. "Don't go anywhere," Dante said sweetly. The man was too scared to move. Later, he returned with the chairs and set them face to face, towards the end of the pier. He then came back for Joe and a length of rope. He picked the man up as if he didn't weigh anything at all. Dante sat the man down on the chair. He tied Joe down with the rope. It wasn't too tight nor was it loose. Upon noticing that the man's wrists and ankles were turning red, Dante produced Joe's switchblade and cut his old duct tape restraints. "Sorry... I think I got a little overzealous."
Dante went back to his car and returned with a red, plastic gas can. He then poured some of the contents on Joe and the rest encircling his chair. Joe began crying more.
A shrill ringing sound came from Dante's coat pocket. He produced a cell phone and looked at the screen. "It's my wife... Sorry I have to take this." A macabre concept, always take your wife's calls before torture.
"Honey! What are you doing up so early?"
"Ginny's up and she has something to say," Lady's voice was so excited.
"Put her on the phone," Dante was just as excited.
He could hear them fumbling on the other end as Lady put the phone to the toddler's ear. She started babbling before she finally said, "Da! Da! Dada!" Lady took the phone back and she could practically tell that he was almost to the point of tears. "I'm her first word?" Dante said it in almost disbelief. "Can you get that on camera?"
"Already done, Sweetheart. I figured that you were already on the case... but I thought this would make your day."
"It has. Thanks babe... I'll talk to you later. Buh-bye." Dante ended his call and tucked the phone back into his pocket.
"Can you believe it kid? My daughter just said her first word just now. You wanna see a picture of her?"
Joe started whimpering in fear again.
"Maybe later then."
"Shhh... If you promise not to scream, I'll take off your gag... okay?"
The man nodded.
Dante removed the duct tape from Joe's mouth. He then sat backwards in the chair across from Joe.
"So kid," Dante began his 'icebreaker,' "What's your name."
"Joe," it came out as a chocked back sob.
"Hiya, Joe... My name is Dante," he was eerily cheerful.
"Ar-are you gonna kill me... drink my blood?"
Dante laughed. A cruel reaction to what Joe thought were valid questions. "No... I'm not a vampire and as far as anyone knows we are two guys enjoying the sunrise. Now..." Dante licked his dry lips in a very joker-esque kind of way. "... Have you seen little Sarah?" Dante held the photo out so that Joe could see.
"Yes," Joe was near tears again, "Three days ago... Near the Piggly-Wiggly."
"Great! We're making progress. What happened to her?"
Joe closed his eyes tight and began to spill, "It was only for a moment, but a man dressed in white, wearing some dark glasses was walking her out of the store. Then she started cryin', 'I want my mama.' The man must have noticed that people were staring, so he picked her up and put her in a white van."
"Who was the man, Joe?"
"Near as I can tell, he was one of those men on the hill. Every so often they have a celebration and someone from town disappears and everyone pretends that they were never there to begin with. You go to the hill... you never come back. Lately, they've been takin' outsiders to the hill, leavin' us-folks alone."
"Do you know what happens there?"
"No. They hardly ever come to town unlessin' someone makes trouble fer them. "
Dante produced a cigarette and lit it, taking long drags as he processed the information.
"What does that group call themselves?"
"The Eighty Eight. Something to do with the constellations or something."
"You've done well kid," Dante said as he flicked his cigarette near the gas can. Joe slammed his eyes shut and started screaming, expecting to be engulfed in fames. He stopped when he realized that Dante had cut his restraints and the cigarette had fizzled out.
"Uh... Why am I not on fire," Joe questioned with a very confused look on his face.
Dante laughed again. "That was never gasoline. Gas is way too fuckin' expensive to do all that!"
"What is it?"
"Saltwater and vinegar." Dante laughed even harder.
"Wha—? You're letting me go."
"Yeah kid... looks that way. The catch is that since you're from around, you have to help me in getting the 'Eighty-Eight'."
"You a cop or something..."
"No. Sarah's family hired me to find her."
"Who's to say I won't go to the police?"
"You won't, because, I'll be watching you." Joe looked down to see that his wrists were returning to their original color and that it was no longer tingling. He looked up to see that the sun rising on the horizon and that Dante was gone. Maybe he really is a vampire, he thought.
"Piggly-wiggly" is the name of a gocery store chain from the Southern United States. To my knowledge... one does not exist in La Plata... but there is a "Bi-Lo"
Has anyone ever thought that Dante could play the part of a maniacal serial torturer? Okay, maybe that's just me. Any who... Review?
(EDIT) I really have no idea where to go from here, so could you all please lend me some help... maybe a betareader?