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My Stories (Goth)





Danateus
I wrote this story back in 2004 or 2005 but it was the first I had ever formally written of my own desire. Give me some brutal feedback!
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Dante Rize ... Or more importantly, who is Dante Rize? Few beings know the answer to this question past what is visibly apparent. The following is what has been compiled so far about his life:

From his creation to his fourteenth year of life, normalcy was something known all too well to Dante Rize. He lived the life of a basic, care-free, young wolf cub as so many of his kind had done before him. Dante knew not much of this world beyond the stories his parents had told him from birth about the world and it's wonders. You could even say that he still believed these stories considering he had seen very little evil or malice from others as of late. His home was set smack-dab, at the end of a rarely traveled forest, the forest being behind the house, with grassy plains covering all the other unoccupied land, aside from a small lake. Even the cliff, which could surely spell death for any of those emotional enough to jump from it, was given a natural luster...it was a dream...and all dreams end.

His mother, Trisha Rize and his father, Constantine Raith were and always had been a happy couple since as far back as young Dante could recall. No trials of domestic violence, no divorce, perhaps the worst thing he had ever seen out of them was the occasional verbal disagreement.

Dante was walking home one afternoon after another day of relaxation in the splendor of the grassy plains with the small rodent wildlife in his own ‘secret' spot amongst it all. "Damn," He thought to himself with a smile and a gentle snicker. "What a day."

He approached his home, a paw reaching out to turn the familiar bronze door knob belonging to the front entrance of his domicile. "Hello Dante," His mother's voice drifted at him from down the hallway and around the corner of the entrance to the kitchen. "Have fun at your little hang-out spot?"

"Yeah Mom, I always do." The teen-aged cub said with an accomplished grin to meet his mother's own, never failing cheerfulness. Continuing on the path to his bedroom he peered into the living area only to find his father scoping through one of his dream interpretation books. Again Dante's thoughts spoke in his mind, "Heh, that's dad for ya."

Upon completing his journey he grasped the doorknob to his room, turning it slowly for dramatic effect as if he had an audience watching him. Then he darted in, leaping about a foot into the air and landing face down into the cotton cushions of his bed. He rolled over onto his back to allow his right arm to hang loosely off of the side of his bed, eagerly searching for the ‘on' button to the moderately sized radio on his bedroom floor.

Taking a deep breath he began to flip through the tracks of his recently acquired Demon Days album made famous by the Gorillaz, until stopping on track seven entitled ‘El Mañana'. He drifted off into his thoughts speaking aloud to himself, "Definitely a song to thing about.." And allowing some time for a little more character development.

Dante had always been an intelligent wolf, just a little lacking in the common sense department, especially since reaching his awaited ‘teenager' status. He had accepted a few academic and social awards since starting the educational period of his life. He took enjoyment in playing almost every mainstream sport, recreationally though.

Holding favor towards Soccer, Basketball, and just running, be it laps or what have you. Despite his outgoing personality he never conformed to any social ‘click' remaining a wolf all his own. Even so, he had friends out of every click, Preps, Goths, Losers, Humans, and anything else creative someone's son or daughter could come up with to label someone different from them.

Though he had not seen much evil from others lately, he had beheld much throughout his life. The first death he experienced, was that of his elder brother, Brandon, who was an acute asthmatic and died from one of the attacks associated with the respiratory problem. The mere thought of his brother or speaking of his name in Dante's home was enough to evoke tears.

Dante, still laying on his bed and barely acknowledging his the sound of his music sat there amazed as he had narrated a bit of his life in his mind. A solitary tear ran down his cheek as he was still conflicted by his brother's death even though it had occurred when he was a pup around the age of two.

This young wolf held a very convincing façade to hide the sea of warring emotions inside his heart, mind, and soul from outside onlookers. He even went as far as wishing to savagely beat or kill someone betraying him or causing him any pain.

"What the ******!!?" The teenaged wolf blurted out this statement as he heard several awe inspiring crashes taking place in the kitchen. His father's deep yell could be heard resounding through the walls of the house, "Who the hell are you?!! Get the ****** out of my house!! Stay away from my wife!!"

Dante broke for the door of his room, inadvertently maximizing the volume on his radio in the process. After opening the door of his room he began to cautiously creep down the second hallway of his home, -[Sorry to interrupt, but this is not the hallway behind the front entrance of the house, but the secondary one containing the entrances to the bedrooms and bathroom.]– as he neared the kitchen he beheld the aftermath of the struggle that had taken place.

Chairs laid smashed to rubble aside from the lone chair which hung swinging out of the broken window of the kitchen. Strewn all across the floor utensil drawers and utensils could be seen. The viewing pane of the oven had been broken and held host to blood drops and strands of silver fur, a fur color common in his family. As if a head had been bashed into it.

Unknowingly young Dante's cheek fur was stained dark gray from all the tears he had been letting a hold of upon taking witness to the morbid scene of violence the kitchen of his home had been redecorated to. He collapsed into a kneeling position with glossy eyes slowly surveying the area in traumatic disbelief. "....no...p-please...n..n-no." He cried out until his eyes fell prey to the most disturbing sight he had seen since arriving on the scene.

The dining room table sat there undisturbed. One would believe it to be sort of commonplace until beholding the ‘stainless' steel knife, painted down to the very handle with blood. At that moment, all hope, and happiness left Dante. The war between his emotions had been neutralized and only hatred had been found victorious. The last words of the seventh track on his Gorillaz album could be heard. "Only in time...."

...Eight Years Later...

Now Dante had reached twenty-two years of age with the memory of that god forsaken night when he lost his parents still burning vividly in his mind. His hatred had nulled a bit, but his emptiness had yet to be filled. He spent night and day searching for the answer justifying the events that had taken place back then, on that night.

Since then he only returned once to his childhood home, taking a moment and reliving the evil of that fateful night. His home had become debilitated, dusty, and a home to a few smaller wilderness creatures. Dante shooed them out, walked into the garage and coming back into the kitchen holding several bright red jugs with long, yellow tubes protruding from them.

That time he revisited his home, he burned it to the ground. He surrounded the house with a few light boulders and other rocks to prevent the fire from spreading to the surrounding area. In the last moments before he left his burning home, he raised his outstretched index paw digit and his middle paw digit to his lips. Dante pressed them to his lips blowing a kiss at the burning home and quickly performing the Catholic cross gesture from top of his sternum to the bottom, then from his left shoulder to his right shoulder.

No one attempted to stop the fire consuming his home that night, and he turned with another tear in his eye, leaving it to burn in peace. He adopted the title ‘Truth Wolf', for reasons he held in his heart. He vowed even to elude death until the time he found the truth to the assumed deaths of his parents.

Dante realized one thing from all this, no matter how good something is, it can always be taken.
catscratches
I'd like some explanation of why his parents got killed. Just a cold-bloody psychopath? That seems rather weak.

Otherwise, I enjoyed reading it. Good that the language wasn't too advanced for me =)
Danateus
Ah, thanks for the positive feedback! In hindsight I should have explained more on that but it was a few years ago and, I was young and reckless x.X
Danateus
The sequel to my first story, this one I know I wrote in late 2007. It's a little homosexual, but what isn't nowadays?
Titled: He Is Awake
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It was still dark out, and having left without preparing hardly any provisions Dante seemed to be, "Up shit creek without a paddle.", as he would eloquently put it. He waded his way through bramble patches, wild vines, and the occasional congregation of poison ivy with few gripes. Once in a while on his trek he would turn his head to gaze at the sky for signs that his former home was still ablaze. The edge of the forest drew near several hours later and this sight was met with an exhausted sigh from Dante.

"Finally," he said, "I can rest." But there is rarely any rest for the weary, as he would soon discover. Apparently, despite how far his home was away from the city, some ignorant being with a feeling of obligation called in a report of heavy smoke to the city fire department. They quickly discovered it to have been intentional and labeled the situation as ‘Premeditated Arson', terms that Dante ironically knew fairly well. He always believed in the whole becoming the enemy to know the enemy saying. While the police were on the lookout for any suspects they ruled out the possibility of it being the doing of anyone in the home, for the time being.

Dante drew closer to the city, each step in his mind seemed to displace him even farther away. Half an hour later and with many instances of almost passing out he at last reached the city's outskirts. This city was known as Damascus, something Dante always found quite funny. Luckily enough for him he had a friend living in the city whose apartment he could crash at. Dante traveled along the grassy sides of the highway past several speeding automobiles and the occasional squad car. He quickly set eyes on one of those stranded automobiles left on the side of the road for one reason or another, and with a quick peek to the left and right he boarded it. One thing he did not learn at school was how to hot wire a car, that was thanks to basic cable.

Despite the dead headlights there was nothing else wrong with the car, unless the slight smell of rotting flesh bothers you, but who's weird like that? He headed westwards towards the radiant lights of Damascus and in no time his destination had been reached. He scanned the dingy street signs for ‘Quarry Rd.'

"Hell yeah! O'course you can crash here mate!" That never failing cheer came from none other than Dante's friend Virgil. Dante never really thought that was his real name, and that he only said that to make him feel special.
"For a Goth dingo, he sure is perky...", thought Dante, even though he had known this being for a good long time. "I've got to hand it to you Virgil...you've always been dependable." , said Dante. His dingo friend now gone roommate nodded with a smile while standing aside to let Dante in. It was a modern scale apartment with three and a half bathrooms, three moderately sized sleeping quarters, two walk-in closets. About fourteen hundred and fifty square feet of space all together. Now with that image still fresh in your mind, sling black paint over the walls and ceiling. Throw down some fluffy black shag carpeting, and slap some Lamb of God, Insane Clown Posse, and any other posters of groups your parent's might not approve of in random positions on the walls in every room. Home sweet home, eh?

"Holy shit Virge, I never you were a Juggalo!", said the now excited wolf.
"I'm sure there's still a lot about me you never knew...like...", the dingo's sentence trailed off there. Then he leaned closer to Dante who was reluctant to his actions at first. The kiss was quicker than it registered in Dante's mind but when it was over he was left speechless all the same.
"Virgil...I..."
"Don't speak Dante, just get your ass inside already, s'cold out here."

The wolf found himself in a position all too well known to canines that morning, just before the sun rose. The quick rise of light made the black silk bed sheets glow eerily yet it caused the now awakened wolf to feel all the more welcomed. His bed partner groaned for a moment as Dante ruffled about to find his trip pants.
"Ugh. There we go." A cracking sound echoed throughout the room from the wolf's stretching, and the still sleeping dingo squirmed about. Dante strode, half naked, over to the picture window to stare down upon the jogging housewives and unknowing dog walkers with disdain. "Heh, ****** that..." There he went, with his hatred for things that were commonplace. Then he took notice of a seemingly pious older human woman, perhaps a preacher's wife or someone of the lot, shuffling down her white washed driveway to grab her neatly placed USA Today news paper. Then she caught a glance at Dante, in looking at him she showed everything that he hated most about people. She threw him a face of disgust, as if she had watched his earlier morning's love making with Virgil on a live video feed in High Definition.

Dante had half a mind to grab one of Virgil's rifles and meet that specific neighbor, but he only flipped her his middle finger with a smile on his face before stepping back out of her view. Dante made the Catholic cross gesture to bless his day, uttering a quiet, thankful prayer to whatever divine being may have been listening. He performed his morning routine, beginning with a hot shower, during which he was joined by his close friend.
"Before I let you in this shower...say it."
"Aww come on Dante do I have to?" Dante nodded solemnly.
"Fine," the dingo sighed before speaking again, " abandon all hope, ye who enter here."
"And you'd damn well better Virgil." With that Dante slid open the glass door to the shower. "Well Virge, what's the plan for today?" "Hmm, since you didn't bring hardly anything with you, let's get you some new clothes."
"Same store as usual?", asked the curious wolf.
"You've got that right, is there even any place else worth going to besides Hot Topic?"
"Mmm, not that I can readily think of.." Dante turned to Vigil, the water blanketing both of them , he closed his eyes and returned Virgil's kiss. In that same instance he used his foot to lower the temperature of the shower drastically, then he bounded out of the bathroom happily with a towel in hand just before the shower head reset itself and began spewing out the surprise. The dingo watched Dante's silver body disappear around the corner then exclaimed,
"Aagh!! Dante, what the ******!" In the other room Dante smiled to himself then resumed drying off. Before he knew it, Dante was off in the passenger seat of Virgil's vintage Ford Mustang Mach One.
"Why don't we take your car?"
"Well because...you see...hehe."
"Not another word," Virgil smiled with a little shake of his head, "just get in."

...Some few minutes later...

"Ya know Dante, I never asked you what the deal was with the sudden move in.." Dante looked out of the window sorrowfully, but he quickly changed the subject.
"Hey, we're here!"
"Okay, you don't wanna talk about it then. I won't force you to."
"Silly pup, even if you wanted me to talk about it, I don't think you could find anywhere near enough force." He wiggled his rump tauntingly as he got out of the car and closed the door.
"The Damascus City Shopping Mall, spawning ground for all forms of demons."
"Ah yes Virge, but there's Hot Topic, Sanctuary for those with half a mind."

The two of them had made their way past the desensitized insensitive masses with little effort, before setting foot on that all too familiar black colored cement. A cheery mutt clad in all black, from the choker and the ear studs he sported to the clingy chains attached to his slightly worn in cargo pants, waved at them as they entered Hot Topic. His name tag read ‘Rain'. A few Egyptian-esque tattoos were visible above the collar of his shirt. Those that drew Dante's attention first were just under the bottom lid of each eye. They accented his gaze in a way that chilled Dante's spine and held him still.

"Sir? Are you alright?", the charming employee inquired with a small air of concern. Dante snapped to as if water had been thrown in his face,
"Y-yeah, I'm fine..."
"Damn Dante, did he really strike you that hard?", asked Virgil.
"N-no...he struck me even harder.."
catscratches
I think that it was more advanced and I didn't really get the ending.

It was a nice read, though.
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