Coochie Coochie Chapter Nine
Dante sat in his room looking up at the ceiling, his eyeballs did not move, his chest did not rise, his breathwas almost imperceptible. He was waiting patiently for his inevitable guests to arrive. He himself had called the police. He was all too aware that the Fadruthiya were war-like when angered, and he was not surprised that Cana was not. Nothing surprised him anymore, that was part of the life he lived. He took a deep breath, held it, then slowly released it in a sigh.
“It was many and many a year ago...” he whispered.
In the next room Cana sat on the bed. She listened to Chela mi Creda with Luciano Pavarotti. She stretched out on the bed widthwise, and stared at the ceiling. She knew her parents were coming, and then all Hell would break loose. She welcomed the appearance of the two adversarial beings who would soon have her captor's head served on a platter. At worst. And yet, she dreaded it all the same.
“In a kingdom by the sea,”
Claude's limousine rolled up to Dante's house and he moved among the bushes, tall grass and trees in order to remain undetected. He slipped a screwdriver in one of the windows and eased the pane of glass out of the frame. It fell to the floor inside, landing on something soft. He repeated the motions four more times, and then unlocked the window. He slipped into the oubliette.
“That a maiden there lived, whom you may know,”
Maloj sharpened his knife on a small whet stone, and then handed it to his Mehra who sharpened her own blade with vigor. They were dressed in black camouflage outfits, and The limousine parked in front of Claude's own vehicle, and the two exited from the car. They slowly made their way through the darkness to the dimly lit porch, the silent patio, and made their way to the door bell and raised their fists.
“By the name of Annabel Lee.”
The banging woke Dante from his meditation, and brought Cana through the adjoining doorway and into his room. She said nothing, but then, she didn't need to. Her face spoke volumes about what was going on in her mind. There was happiness, there was sorrow, there was guilt and admiration, adulation, and adoration. But most evident, and more evident tha the other emotions, there was hope. Hope that she'd be free.Hope that she'd never see Dante Alighieri ever again. The two stared at each other.for a time, then they were interrupted by the banging.
Dante madeh is way down the stairs and opened the door. He sidestepped the parents as they lunged forward with their knives swinging into the air. Mehra hit the floor, rose to her feet and grabbed Dante by the vest and pushed him against the wall. His expression was unchanged. He stared passively into Mehra's dark hateful pools. She raised her knife to his throat, pressing the blade into his skin.
“Where is my daughter?”
“i don't know hat you mean Miss.”
“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed. “Maloj, shoot him.” Dante pushed Mehra backward into Maloj as he raised the pistol, and knocked Maloj to the floor with a swing from his elbow into his chin. He then dashed down the hallway, pursued y Mehra and he disappeared into the basement. Mehra stood at the open doorway leading into the darkness like a long tunnel entering a great stomach.
“You think that will stop me?” Mehra scvreamed. “I've got a flashlight you coward!” She whipped out a small torch and ran forth into the maze of oubliettes.
Claude rose from theoubliette and stumbled along in the darkness. He was now officially confused. He didn't know which way was forward or backward, and he definitely did not know which way he had to go to get to the living room. He heard Mehra's voice screaming about a flashlight earlier, and then silence. He was a bit worried about her, and his brother.
Mehra walked softly in the darkness, not knowing what would happen. That's part of the horror for her, not knowing. It's why she is angry, why she obsesses over everything. Why she's willing to slit the neck of the man that had her daughter.
“Dante,” she shouted, “I see you!”
“Maybe in your mind,” a voice whispered at her ear, “but not with your eyes.” Mehra turned to her right, shined her flashlight and found a doorway. It hung open and she thought she saw movement inside.
“Your heart is too dark to see anything Mehra,” the voice continued, “I loved you once before, did you know that?” Mehra opened the door wider and shined her flashlight inside. There was nothing. Then Mehra felt a hard slap on her rear. She turned around to see a white, grinning skull, laughing maniacally as it floated toward her, skeleton hands wrapping about her ribs, immediately bringing her to the ground, squirming and kicking and wailing with laughter, and she was dragged into the vault and the door was shut.
“Mehra, mehra, mehra...” Dante said as he held her arms over her head and ran his fingers deep into her underarms. Drawing out squeals of laughter. He smacked her hard, relishing in the force he applied.
“OW HAAAHAHAAAA!!!” Mehra roared angrily. Dante flipped her over and dug his hand up her jacket.
“Let us see if you buck as well as your Cana,” He said as he placed one hand on the small of her back and tickled her belly with the other.
“No...NO NONONO NO!!!” She screamed before she laughed uncontrollably and tried to bounce Dante from her back. His eyes glowed red as his grin grew wider out of lust, out of power. His nostrils flared again and his blood grew hot. He tickled harder on the woman as her hips ground into his crotch, and his hardened phallas moved with the motion of her hips as they moved.
“You move in a much more sensual manner than Cana,” Dante whispered into the roaring woman's ear, “tell me, is that because you are older, or because you're a harlot?” He dug into her ribs, and Mehra grew even more violent and screamed for help, but the rooms were soundproof on this side of the hall. Just what the doctor ordered. He flipped Mehra over and placed his knuckled on her ribs, and knelt low. Mehra was a sweating mess. She breahed in great gulps, and stared at Dante as he met her gaze with his unrelenting eyes.
“Know this, my love, you will not leave this house alive. If I have any power over your destiny, you will never leave.” He then dug his fingers into her ribs, Mehra arched her back and howled.
