FINALLY
This has been a fun project, and I'm getting ready to start on my next project. I just need to rest a bit like my Cana. For those of you who might not have noticed, this is a bit of social commentary as well, so get what you will from this story.
The Giggle Collector
Chapter 10
M.C. Laphar
Maloj came to in the foyer, Mehra's scream shocked him out of his mock coma and gave him more resolve to find Dante. He rose to his feet and stumbled blearily into the living room. No one was there; he stumbled into the kitchen, and again no one was there. He turned to go back into the living room and saw a man who looked like a darker version of Dante stride through. In his bleariness, Maloj attacked him, and was met by a great push which forced him into the stove.
Pain flashed through his body as his back made impact with the stove door. And then his cheek roared with pain as the figure's fist landed just off mark. Then his stomach erupted in a similar fiery expression. Then his testes, his knees, and his eyes. Whack after merciless, off point whack. He fell to the floor as the figure pounded him again and again.
Whoever it was, knew how to fight, and they fought way better than Maloj, who was a master Martial Artist in his area. The attacker was ruthless as it unleashed almost unholy wrath upon his form. Whack, his jaw was knocked out of place; then another hit and his right arm fractured. Another hit and it broke.
“Agh!” Maloj howled, but was cut short by a knock to the mouth. A moment later, the attacker picked him up, and tossed him out of the room like he was nothing but a piece of paper. Maloj crashed through the living room and skidded to a halt in the foyer. Claude was already there, shot in the leg, and whining in pain on the floor in the corner of the room Cana stood at the top of the stairs, aghast, at what was happening. Sheh ad slippedo ut of the dress and had gotten back in her low rise jeans and her t-shirt and her socks, and had her boots in her hands.
“Dad!” She squealed as she slipped down the steps. She skidded to a stop on the floor and felt the man's pulse. “Shit, Dad....” She saw the massive blemishes on her father's skin. Reddened marks from repetitive blows
“Ugh,” Maloj moaned. “Dad, keep breathing!”
“Shit...” he said.
“Okay, I'm going to get Uncle Oh Shit!” She looked at Uncle Oh Shit, I mean, Claude. She ran over to him and looked at his wound.
“Dante you bitch!” He shouted angrily.
“Don't you ever call me a bitch again or I'm going to leave you where you lay mother fucker!” Cana turned to the basement door where he heard her mother's laughter. She then saw Dante and the three assistants emerge from the basement carrying Mehra, their fingers digging into her flesh and drawing out a cacophany of howls and guffaws and chrotles, giggles shrieks and moans and wretched screams the likes of which never graced Cana's ears.
“Now, you shall learn the truth of all of this young Cana.” Dante hissed as he and his henchmen tossed Mehra to the floor. She howled in pain and fell into residual giggles.
Outside, the police pulled up, twelve cars in all. Guns were ready, but there'd be no shooting, only screams.And the men and women called here were about to see it all unfold before their eyes.
“Cana,” Dante's voice lyrically hung in the air as he moved from one place to another, circling the three interlopers who were now bound to a chair each, seated side by side. “Cana, do you want to know a secret?”
“No.”
“I have many of them,” Dante Continued, oblivious to Cana's answer. “Many of them are about you.”
“Hostage situation on the second level of the house,” An officer said into the walkie-talkie. “Requesting SWAT officers.”
“Request denied officer,” the garbled message came back.
“Lieutenant, we need hostage removal!”
“Officer, the SWAT are unavailable.”
Dante put his hand on Claude's shoulder. He squeezed it lightly. “Like your uncle here, he is a miserable man.Keeping slaves and sacrificing people at the drop of a hat. How disturbing no?”
“I don't do that,” Claude hissed between gulps of air for the pain was excruciating. “You are a liar.”
“No my friend, you lie.” Dante kicked Claude's leg and the wounded man moaned in pain. “Tell us, and don't lie this time, how did you get the name Claude?”
“My mom gave it to me.”
“No, you changed it.” Dante hissed. “You hate yourself, that is why you changed it.”
“dON'T YOU EVER TELL ME ABOUT MYSELF!”
“People hate to hear the truth about themselves if its bad.” Dante said. “Maloj, tell Cana about Bethany.”
“Shit...” Maloj muttered.
“Tell her,” Dante said with a high inflection, “or I'll hurt you more than my servant did.”
“Bethany was your lover.”
“But what was she to you?”
“I don't know.”
“Oh come now my boy you know,” Dante carressed his face then squeezed his chin. “You know, but you're embarrassed to speak, like your brother.”
“I know hwo she is,” Mehra squealed.
Dante glanced at Mehra, “The sins are to be borne by the sinner, you have your own, and so does your husband.” He turned back to Maloj, “So tell me, man, tell us your sin.”
“I have never sinned.” Maloj hissed in pain. Dante smiled, lowered his lids and rose to his feet. He walked over to the fireplace near the end of the room and picked up a bamboo stick which he kept alongside the poker. He returned to Maloj, and without hesitation whacked Maloj aside his skull.
“Agh, what the Hell is that for!”
“Speak th truth or I will hurt you worse than that.”
“I don't have anything to speak of!” Another whack, this time to the face.
Fifteen minutes later, Maloj was bleeding from his beating, and he finally relented and began to speak.
“Bethany was my adopted daughter....” He managed.
“What happened to Bethany Maloj,”
“She ran away,”
“Where and why.”
“Claude's, she didn't like me.”
“Why didn't she?”
“I don't know.” Dante smacked him. “Agh, she was crazy!”
“Don't lie,”
“Fine! Stuff happened!”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Stuff that'd drive a kid insane.”
“How old was she Maloj?”
“Eihteen.”
“When did you do this stuff Maloj?”
“Since she was twelve.”
“Heh,” Dante said without expression, “and people call me a pervert. Did you rape her Maloj? Did you take her flower that you were to nurture and shrivel it until every petal fell to the earth and crumbled to dust?”
Maloj looked at Cana who sat expressionless, “I-I-I...”
“All of these eyes...you know your eyes let people know when you lie Maloj.” Dante hissed as he forced Maloj to look at him. “Did you enjoy raping her? Did you enjoy making her your bitch Maloj?”
“I didn't do that,” he said through a preparation of tears.
“Oh come now, what did you do to her?”
“I...”
“Say it.”
“I...I Fucked her.”
“Oh, and that's different from raping her?”
“She asked for it.”
“And when?”
“Twice a month since she became fifteen.”
“Do you think the girl knew what she was gettign into?”
“I didn't care,”
“I know you didn't Maloj. I'll come back to you.”
Claude's eyes grew distant as Dante sat before him. “So, Claude, did you 'fuck' your adopted niece?”
Claude smiled, “You know as well as I.” Dante smacked the bullet wound. “You limey bitch....”
“Ah Claude, you did not answer the question.”
“Of course I did, and you were there.”
“Close boy, I was in the next room.” Claude grinned with lust in his eyes. “But you didn't just fuck her did you?”
“Of course not.”
“You tickle fucked her, right?”
“'til her body gave out.”
“Did she enjoy it?”
“No,” Claude laughed, “she pleaded with me to stop.”
“Tell us about how you did it?”
Bethany was bound to the bed, her arms bound to the wall, her pink sweater cut open, reveaing her pink glowing skin. A knife was in Claude's hand, he had cut the sweater open. He admired his handiwork. Crude, but then, nothing was ever elegant about raping someone. He took off her sneakers, lightly scratched her socked feet. Bethany cringed in fear. Claude licked his lips and shifted his hips. He had always wanted to do this to Bethany, she always looked like she asked for it. He never could stand the fact that such a pretty young woman was in his brother's house and not his own.
He had heard the squeals of pleasure Maloj gave when he thought about his bouts with his adopted daughter. How the girl loved it, how she asked for more and more. He was now going to experience the same he assumed. He assumed it the evening the girl showed up at his doorstep, crying.
“Dad hurt me...” she whimpered into her uncle's arms. “And, he's hurt me like that for a long time.”
“Don't worry Beth.” Claude said as he led her up the stairs. He grinned in his mind. The woman had no idea what she was in for.
And now, she lay upon the bed. Her chest rising and falling in rapid succession of each, and her eyes wide in horror as she saw Claude's fingers itching to dance upon her
“No, no!”
“Yes, yes!” Claude said as his fingers began dancing up her sides. Bethany screamed and kicked and bucked. The binds would not busdge and her uncles fingers were relentless.
“Why? Why?”
“Because you've asked for it ever since you were a little girl that's why.”
“PLEASE STOP!”
“No,” Claude smiled. “Are your nipples ticklish niecey?” he asked as he pulled from his pocket an electric toothbrush. He cut open her bra, and began to brush her areolas. Bethany screamed with laughter, and yet Claude was all too aeare that this was not enjoyable for her. But then, nothing was ever elegant about what he did.”
An hour passed and Dante woke from his sleep, he could hear screaming in the next room. He put his ear to the wall and lstened. There was breathing, heavy, lustuous. There was quiet laughter, strained, feargful, forced. And the movement of the bed. Dante could sense somethig was wrong. He opened the adjoining door quietly. He saw Claude over bethany. There was silence Bethany's gaze was directed at the ceiling,. It was distant. No one was there. It was a look of betrayal.
“Heh, you're quite fuckable dear,” Claude hissed. As he was about to go down again, he felt his shirt collar being grabbed, and then the man was wrenched from the bed and thrown against the wall.
“You disgrace yourself,” Dante said with frightening calm. “You shame yourself, and the Gargalene you damnable menace.” He kicked him in the face and then raised hiim up by a single hand and pushed him against the window until it cracked, then broke.
“You do worse than I you miserable fuck,” Dante punched him in the mouth.
“I do not approve.” He threw him through the doorway. He walked over to Bethany and unbound her limp form. He pulled up her underwear, then her jeans, and carried her into his room.
“You are still a disgrace.” Dante said as he rose to his feet and went back to Maloj. “You two are such disturbing creatures. I'd call you an ephebophile, but then, you two aren't even worthy of being part of a group. Other than rapists. Incestual Rapists....Maloj, what was your reaction when you first found out that Claude had his way with your girl?”
“I didn't care.”
“I know you didn't,”
“Then why did you ask me?”
“Because I wanted Cana to understand why I am going to do what I am going to do.”
Cana felt embarrassed. This beast of a man was interrogating her family members, revealing things she didn't want to know. Things she could have certainly lived and died not knowing. And now, she wanted to die, she wanted this to be over. But she had to fight it, she had to stay composed. She had to defend her family.
“Dante, please.” She softly exhaled.
“Yes dear?” he said without looking at her.
“Doing this will not bring back Parvati.”
“I do not do this for the sake of Parvati,”
“Then why do you do this?”
“So that you'll understand at least a fraction of a percentage of the depravity in which you have lived unwittingly.”
“You don't need to torture my dad to do that.”
“Maloj, tell her about her origins.”
“What?” Cana said, “Origins? My father is my father and my mom is my origin!”
“How ignorant you are my dear.”
“He's right,” Mehra said,.”Maloj isn't your father.”
“What?”
“And I'm not your mother.”
“Shit shit shit...” she thought to herself.
“Was I adopted?”
“No.”
“Who is my real father and mother?”
“We killed your mother.”
“So you kidnapped me?”
“Yes.”
“Who's my dad?”
“Cana,” Dante said as he placed his hands on her shoulders, “I am....”
Cana gasped for breath.
“the person who will give you the information on your father and mother.”
“Oh thank god...”
“There is a final secret of your family that you should know,”
“What now?”
“Mehra, is not a woman.”
“Huh?”
“Mehra is a transexual.”
“Uh...”
“I would have told you in front of her, but since she was so willing to confess her sins, I figured she'd have no problem wih it.”
Dante and Cana spoke as they climbed the stairs. He led her to his bedroom where he took out an envelope and handed it to her.
“In here is everything you need to know to find your family. Your true family.”
“How did you get this?”
“Let us just say, that I am blessed with certain abiities that,”
“Drop the bull shit, where did you get it?”
“tsk tsk, you'll find out on your own because of that dear,” he said as he turned to the desk, and then turned back to her. “You can leave now. My work is done, there are police officers ready to take you home.”
“What of my family?”
“You will find them.”
“You know what I mean.”
“They will die.” He strode to the door. “And you will find the truth.”
Cana made her way down the stairs. She wanted to go back to speak to her mother and father, who sat in the foyer. But she couldn't. A guard stepped behind her and made sure she didn't go back. She was directed to a door on the other side of the house, and then cast out roughly. Five minutes passed, in tht time she made it to the police officers around front and was being taken to a car.
“Mehra,” Dante said as he looked at him. “Do you remember in mumbai when I met you?”
“Of course,” his lipstick lined lips curled into an embarrassed smile, “I enjoyed it.”
“Why did you marry Maloj Mehra?”
“Because he offered to take me out of India.”
“I did the same,”
“You did, but we grew apart.”
“I was not going to love you as a woman,”
“Yet I loved you as a wife.”
“And I did not reciprocate, you knew I wouldn't reciprocate.”
“And so I married Maloj.”
“Tell me, Mehra, had you known what you'd be doing as his wife, would you have still married him?”
“No,”
“You could have divorced him.”
“And gone back to India, never.”
“You could have gone anywhere else in the world. You could have come to me.”
“No, I couldn't. You'd have been furious with me.”
“No, I'd have been saddened that you'd had to have gone through such a tribulation, and furious with the ones who put you through it. That is why the Jalvatis are dead.”
“You did that?”
“Of course.”
“Can we stop this homo convo?” Maloj shouted. “I'm already sick o my stomach as it is.”
“You're right,” Dante said, “our conversation has gone on too long.” He dug in Mehra's pockets, and pulled out the knife he had prepared for Dante. He then quickly and without hesitation, slit Mehra's throat at a diagonal angle. Terror filled his eyes as his blood washed down his chest, over his breasts, and onto the floor. He stabbed Maloj in the forehead, Maloj went stiff, and never relaxed. Claude saw the way that Dante killed the other two. Now he wondered, fearfully, how he'd die.
Dante knelt before Claude and looked him in the eyes. “I killed them for different reasons Claude. Mehra by the throat, because that's the most peaceful way to die. Maloj by the mind because he was a hypocrate. Do you know how I will kill you?” There was no reply, an empty gaze was al that Claude would give. A gaze that showed no fear, yet.
“I'm going to cut your balls off. And then you'll die a slow, painful death. And, if you should survive, which I doubt you will, you won't be able to burn another woman, the way you burned Bethany, the way you wanted to burn Cana. You'll be burned. Badly burned. Worse than any other man on earth.”
Cana sat in the squad car, and went over the events of the weekend in her head. Friday she was kidnapped. She woke, saturday morning and was tickled mercilessly. That evening she met Dante. He did the same in a more elegant manner. Then she was allowed to rest. The next morning she was washed, and left bound to the ceiling. Dante then came in, tickled her for a time, talked to her for a time, and then, painted a masterpiece on her. She looked at her chest, the artwork looked like a tattoo now, but still so realistic. She then went to a ball, where she ate, and had fun. She learned the dark secrets of the society as well. She saw Marie die at their hands, and then she came home in the evening and learned more secrets in her life.Bethany was her sister, Maloj and Claude raped her. It became obvious that Mehra was Dante's hijra. And then she finds that they aren't her parents. It was a joy, a relief, and a daunting challenge. She just hoped that she'd be able to accomplish what she was now set to do.
The sudden explosion rocked the car, officers screamed and fell ot the ground to shield themselves from the wood and broken glass that shot into the air, and rained down upon everything and everyone. Cana watched as the house went up in flames; long curling glowing plumes of fire roared up into the night like a dragon taking flight. Not a single window was darkened all the eyes of the mansion were alight with the livid low of a small Hell. Another explosion ripped through the ight and one of the many paintings in the house hit the window of the squad car. It shattered to a million pieces, the burning portrait shrinking into a black nothing.
Cana felt a pang in her heart, not for her parents, which had surprised her. But for Dante, she didn't know why, but she felt so sorry for him. She knew he was dead, but did he kill himself, or was this a hitch in his own plans? It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered anymore. She merely wanted to rest. She slumped down into the seat, closed her eyes, and began to cry herself to sleep.
This has been a fun project, and I'm getting ready to start on my next project. I just need to rest a bit like my Cana. For those of you who might not have noticed, this is a bit of social commentary as well, so get what you will from this story.
The Giggle Collector
Chapter 10
M.C. Laphar
Maloj came to in the foyer, Mehra's scream shocked him out of his mock coma and gave him more resolve to find Dante. He rose to his feet and stumbled blearily into the living room. No one was there; he stumbled into the kitchen, and again no one was there. He turned to go back into the living room and saw a man who looked like a darker version of Dante stride through. In his bleariness, Maloj attacked him, and was met by a great push which forced him into the stove.
Pain flashed through his body as his back made impact with the stove door. And then his cheek roared with pain as the figure's fist landed just off mark. Then his stomach erupted in a similar fiery expression. Then his testes, his knees, and his eyes. Whack after merciless, off point whack. He fell to the floor as the figure pounded him again and again.
Whoever it was, knew how to fight, and they fought way better than Maloj, who was a master Martial Artist in his area. The attacker was ruthless as it unleashed almost unholy wrath upon his form. Whack, his jaw was knocked out of place; then another hit and his right arm fractured. Another hit and it broke.
“Agh!” Maloj howled, but was cut short by a knock to the mouth. A moment later, the attacker picked him up, and tossed him out of the room like he was nothing but a piece of paper. Maloj crashed through the living room and skidded to a halt in the foyer. Claude was already there, shot in the leg, and whining in pain on the floor in the corner of the room Cana stood at the top of the stairs, aghast, at what was happening. Sheh ad slippedo ut of the dress and had gotten back in her low rise jeans and her t-shirt and her socks, and had her boots in her hands.
“Dad!” She squealed as she slipped down the steps. She skidded to a stop on the floor and felt the man's pulse. “Shit, Dad....” She saw the massive blemishes on her father's skin. Reddened marks from repetitive blows
“Ugh,” Maloj moaned. “Dad, keep breathing!”
“Shit...” he said.
“Okay, I'm going to get Uncle Oh Shit!” She looked at Uncle Oh Shit, I mean, Claude. She ran over to him and looked at his wound.
“Dante you bitch!” He shouted angrily.
“Don't you ever call me a bitch again or I'm going to leave you where you lay mother fucker!” Cana turned to the basement door where he heard her mother's laughter. She then saw Dante and the three assistants emerge from the basement carrying Mehra, their fingers digging into her flesh and drawing out a cacophany of howls and guffaws and chrotles, giggles shrieks and moans and wretched screams the likes of which never graced Cana's ears.
“Now, you shall learn the truth of all of this young Cana.” Dante hissed as he and his henchmen tossed Mehra to the floor. She howled in pain and fell into residual giggles.
Outside, the police pulled up, twelve cars in all. Guns were ready, but there'd be no shooting, only screams.And the men and women called here were about to see it all unfold before their eyes.
“Cana,” Dante's voice lyrically hung in the air as he moved from one place to another, circling the three interlopers who were now bound to a chair each, seated side by side. “Cana, do you want to know a secret?”
“No.”
“I have many of them,” Dante Continued, oblivious to Cana's answer. “Many of them are about you.”
“Hostage situation on the second level of the house,” An officer said into the walkie-talkie. “Requesting SWAT officers.”
“Request denied officer,” the garbled message came back.
“Lieutenant, we need hostage removal!”
“Officer, the SWAT are unavailable.”
Dante put his hand on Claude's shoulder. He squeezed it lightly. “Like your uncle here, he is a miserable man.Keeping slaves and sacrificing people at the drop of a hat. How disturbing no?”
“I don't do that,” Claude hissed between gulps of air for the pain was excruciating. “You are a liar.”
“No my friend, you lie.” Dante kicked Claude's leg and the wounded man moaned in pain. “Tell us, and don't lie this time, how did you get the name Claude?”
“My mom gave it to me.”
“No, you changed it.” Dante hissed. “You hate yourself, that is why you changed it.”
“dON'T YOU EVER TELL ME ABOUT MYSELF!”
“People hate to hear the truth about themselves if its bad.” Dante said. “Maloj, tell Cana about Bethany.”
“Shit...” Maloj muttered.
“Tell her,” Dante said with a high inflection, “or I'll hurt you more than my servant did.”
“Bethany was your lover.”
“But what was she to you?”
“I don't know.”
“Oh come now my boy you know,” Dante carressed his face then squeezed his chin. “You know, but you're embarrassed to speak, like your brother.”
“I know hwo she is,” Mehra squealed.
Dante glanced at Mehra, “The sins are to be borne by the sinner, you have your own, and so does your husband.” He turned back to Maloj, “So tell me, man, tell us your sin.”
“I have never sinned.” Maloj hissed in pain. Dante smiled, lowered his lids and rose to his feet. He walked over to the fireplace near the end of the room and picked up a bamboo stick which he kept alongside the poker. He returned to Maloj, and without hesitation whacked Maloj aside his skull.
“Agh, what the Hell is that for!”
“Speak th truth or I will hurt you worse than that.”
“I don't have anything to speak of!” Another whack, this time to the face.
Fifteen minutes later, Maloj was bleeding from his beating, and he finally relented and began to speak.
“Bethany was my adopted daughter....” He managed.
“What happened to Bethany Maloj,”
“She ran away,”
“Where and why.”
“Claude's, she didn't like me.”
“Why didn't she?”
“I don't know.” Dante smacked him. “Agh, she was crazy!”
“Don't lie,”
“Fine! Stuff happened!”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Stuff that'd drive a kid insane.”
“How old was she Maloj?”
“Eihteen.”
“When did you do this stuff Maloj?”
“Since she was twelve.”
“Heh,” Dante said without expression, “and people call me a pervert. Did you rape her Maloj? Did you take her flower that you were to nurture and shrivel it until every petal fell to the earth and crumbled to dust?”
Maloj looked at Cana who sat expressionless, “I-I-I...”
“All of these eyes...you know your eyes let people know when you lie Maloj.” Dante hissed as he forced Maloj to look at him. “Did you enjoy raping her? Did you enjoy making her your bitch Maloj?”
“I didn't do that,” he said through a preparation of tears.
“Oh come now, what did you do to her?”
“I...”
“Say it.”
“I...I Fucked her.”
“Oh, and that's different from raping her?”
“She asked for it.”
“And when?”
“Twice a month since she became fifteen.”
“Do you think the girl knew what she was gettign into?”
“I didn't care,”
“I know you didn't Maloj. I'll come back to you.”
Claude's eyes grew distant as Dante sat before him. “So, Claude, did you 'fuck' your adopted niece?”
Claude smiled, “You know as well as I.” Dante smacked the bullet wound. “You limey bitch....”
“Ah Claude, you did not answer the question.”
“Of course I did, and you were there.”
“Close boy, I was in the next room.” Claude grinned with lust in his eyes. “But you didn't just fuck her did you?”
“Of course not.”
“You tickle fucked her, right?”
“'til her body gave out.”
“Did she enjoy it?”
“No,” Claude laughed, “she pleaded with me to stop.”
“Tell us about how you did it?”
Bethany was bound to the bed, her arms bound to the wall, her pink sweater cut open, reveaing her pink glowing skin. A knife was in Claude's hand, he had cut the sweater open. He admired his handiwork. Crude, but then, nothing was ever elegant about raping someone. He took off her sneakers, lightly scratched her socked feet. Bethany cringed in fear. Claude licked his lips and shifted his hips. He had always wanted to do this to Bethany, she always looked like she asked for it. He never could stand the fact that such a pretty young woman was in his brother's house and not his own.
He had heard the squeals of pleasure Maloj gave when he thought about his bouts with his adopted daughter. How the girl loved it, how she asked for more and more. He was now going to experience the same he assumed. He assumed it the evening the girl showed up at his doorstep, crying.
“Dad hurt me...” she whimpered into her uncle's arms. “And, he's hurt me like that for a long time.”
“Don't worry Beth.” Claude said as he led her up the stairs. He grinned in his mind. The woman had no idea what she was in for.
And now, she lay upon the bed. Her chest rising and falling in rapid succession of each, and her eyes wide in horror as she saw Claude's fingers itching to dance upon her
“No, no!”
“Yes, yes!” Claude said as his fingers began dancing up her sides. Bethany screamed and kicked and bucked. The binds would not busdge and her uncles fingers were relentless.
“Why? Why?”
“Because you've asked for it ever since you were a little girl that's why.”
“PLEASE STOP!”
“No,” Claude smiled. “Are your nipples ticklish niecey?” he asked as he pulled from his pocket an electric toothbrush. He cut open her bra, and began to brush her areolas. Bethany screamed with laughter, and yet Claude was all too aeare that this was not enjoyable for her. But then, nothing was ever elegant about what he did.”
An hour passed and Dante woke from his sleep, he could hear screaming in the next room. He put his ear to the wall and lstened. There was breathing, heavy, lustuous. There was quiet laughter, strained, feargful, forced. And the movement of the bed. Dante could sense somethig was wrong. He opened the adjoining door quietly. He saw Claude over bethany. There was silence Bethany's gaze was directed at the ceiling,. It was distant. No one was there. It was a look of betrayal.
“Heh, you're quite fuckable dear,” Claude hissed. As he was about to go down again, he felt his shirt collar being grabbed, and then the man was wrenched from the bed and thrown against the wall.
“You disgrace yourself,” Dante said with frightening calm. “You shame yourself, and the Gargalene you damnable menace.” He kicked him in the face and then raised hiim up by a single hand and pushed him against the window until it cracked, then broke.
“You do worse than I you miserable fuck,” Dante punched him in the mouth.
“I do not approve.” He threw him through the doorway. He walked over to Bethany and unbound her limp form. He pulled up her underwear, then her jeans, and carried her into his room.
“You are still a disgrace.” Dante said as he rose to his feet and went back to Maloj. “You two are such disturbing creatures. I'd call you an ephebophile, but then, you two aren't even worthy of being part of a group. Other than rapists. Incestual Rapists....Maloj, what was your reaction when you first found out that Claude had his way with your girl?”
“I didn't care.”
“I know you didn't,”
“Then why did you ask me?”
“Because I wanted Cana to understand why I am going to do what I am going to do.”
Cana felt embarrassed. This beast of a man was interrogating her family members, revealing things she didn't want to know. Things she could have certainly lived and died not knowing. And now, she wanted to die, she wanted this to be over. But she had to fight it, she had to stay composed. She had to defend her family.
“Dante, please.” She softly exhaled.
“Yes dear?” he said without looking at her.
“Doing this will not bring back Parvati.”
“I do not do this for the sake of Parvati,”
“Then why do you do this?”
“So that you'll understand at least a fraction of a percentage of the depravity in which you have lived unwittingly.”
“You don't need to torture my dad to do that.”
“Maloj, tell her about her origins.”
“What?” Cana said, “Origins? My father is my father and my mom is my origin!”
“How ignorant you are my dear.”
“He's right,” Mehra said,.”Maloj isn't your father.”
“What?”
“And I'm not your mother.”
“Shit shit shit...” she thought to herself.
“Was I adopted?”
“No.”
“Who is my real father and mother?”
“We killed your mother.”
“So you kidnapped me?”
“Yes.”
“Who's my dad?”
“Cana,” Dante said as he placed his hands on her shoulders, “I am....”
Cana gasped for breath.
“the person who will give you the information on your father and mother.”
“Oh thank god...”
“There is a final secret of your family that you should know,”
“What now?”
“Mehra, is not a woman.”
“Huh?”
“Mehra is a transexual.”
“Uh...”
“I would have told you in front of her, but since she was so willing to confess her sins, I figured she'd have no problem wih it.”
Dante and Cana spoke as they climbed the stairs. He led her to his bedroom where he took out an envelope and handed it to her.
“In here is everything you need to know to find your family. Your true family.”
“How did you get this?”
“Let us just say, that I am blessed with certain abiities that,”
“Drop the bull shit, where did you get it?”
“tsk tsk, you'll find out on your own because of that dear,” he said as he turned to the desk, and then turned back to her. “You can leave now. My work is done, there are police officers ready to take you home.”
“What of my family?”
“You will find them.”
“You know what I mean.”
“They will die.” He strode to the door. “And you will find the truth.”
Cana made her way down the stairs. She wanted to go back to speak to her mother and father, who sat in the foyer. But she couldn't. A guard stepped behind her and made sure she didn't go back. She was directed to a door on the other side of the house, and then cast out roughly. Five minutes passed, in tht time she made it to the police officers around front and was being taken to a car.
“Mehra,” Dante said as he looked at him. “Do you remember in mumbai when I met you?”
“Of course,” his lipstick lined lips curled into an embarrassed smile, “I enjoyed it.”
“Why did you marry Maloj Mehra?”
“Because he offered to take me out of India.”
“I did the same,”
“You did, but we grew apart.”
“I was not going to love you as a woman,”
“Yet I loved you as a wife.”
“And I did not reciprocate, you knew I wouldn't reciprocate.”
“And so I married Maloj.”
“Tell me, Mehra, had you known what you'd be doing as his wife, would you have still married him?”
“No,”
“You could have divorced him.”
“And gone back to India, never.”
“You could have gone anywhere else in the world. You could have come to me.”
“No, I couldn't. You'd have been furious with me.”
“No, I'd have been saddened that you'd had to have gone through such a tribulation, and furious with the ones who put you through it. That is why the Jalvatis are dead.”
“You did that?”
“Of course.”
“Can we stop this homo convo?” Maloj shouted. “I'm already sick o my stomach as it is.”
“You're right,” Dante said, “our conversation has gone on too long.” He dug in Mehra's pockets, and pulled out the knife he had prepared for Dante. He then quickly and without hesitation, slit Mehra's throat at a diagonal angle. Terror filled his eyes as his blood washed down his chest, over his breasts, and onto the floor. He stabbed Maloj in the forehead, Maloj went stiff, and never relaxed. Claude saw the way that Dante killed the other two. Now he wondered, fearfully, how he'd die.
Dante knelt before Claude and looked him in the eyes. “I killed them for different reasons Claude. Mehra by the throat, because that's the most peaceful way to die. Maloj by the mind because he was a hypocrate. Do you know how I will kill you?” There was no reply, an empty gaze was al that Claude would give. A gaze that showed no fear, yet.
“I'm going to cut your balls off. And then you'll die a slow, painful death. And, if you should survive, which I doubt you will, you won't be able to burn another woman, the way you burned Bethany, the way you wanted to burn Cana. You'll be burned. Badly burned. Worse than any other man on earth.”
Cana sat in the squad car, and went over the events of the weekend in her head. Friday she was kidnapped. She woke, saturday morning and was tickled mercilessly. That evening she met Dante. He did the same in a more elegant manner. Then she was allowed to rest. The next morning she was washed, and left bound to the ceiling. Dante then came in, tickled her for a time, talked to her for a time, and then, painted a masterpiece on her. She looked at her chest, the artwork looked like a tattoo now, but still so realistic. She then went to a ball, where she ate, and had fun. She learned the dark secrets of the society as well. She saw Marie die at their hands, and then she came home in the evening and learned more secrets in her life.Bethany was her sister, Maloj and Claude raped her. It became obvious that Mehra was Dante's hijra. And then she finds that they aren't her parents. It was a joy, a relief, and a daunting challenge. She just hoped that she'd be able to accomplish what she was now set to do.
The sudden explosion rocked the car, officers screamed and fell ot the ground to shield themselves from the wood and broken glass that shot into the air, and rained down upon everything and everyone. Cana watched as the house went up in flames; long curling glowing plumes of fire roared up into the night like a dragon taking flight. Not a single window was darkened all the eyes of the mansion were alight with the livid low of a small Hell. Another explosion ripped through the ight and one of the many paintings in the house hit the window of the squad car. It shattered to a million pieces, the burning portrait shrinking into a black nothing.
Cana felt a pang in her heart, not for her parents, which had surprised her. But for Dante, she didn't know why, but she felt so sorry for him. She knew he was dead, but did he kill himself, or was this a hitch in his own plans? It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered anymore. She merely wanted to rest. She slumped down into the seat, closed her eyes, and began to cry herself to sleep.
