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I knew raising a teenager would be difficult, but I did not expect the difficulty of raising a teenager who used to be a homicidal maniac. I’ve made many mistakes in my life, and this is my penance.
Clockwork gave us the opportunity for a second chance, and the only way we will earn it is by working together. That’s not to say it will be easy. No, it’s been frustratingly difficult to get him to cooperate with me.
Dante, as he’s taken to calling himself, has been fighting me every step of the way. He may have been a ghost for the last ten years, but now that he is a half-human teenager, he needs to go to school. He doesn’t want to, of course. But he is my ward, and I am not giving him the choice.
“I’m 26 years old, I don’t belong in high school!” Dante’s squeaky pubescent voice robs his statement of legitimacy.
“You are in the body of a 16 year old boy, and you have not had any education past 9th grade. If you want to be a productive member of society, you will go to school. I will homeschool you myself if I must.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to stave off a budding headache.
Dante crosses his arms. “Fine. But I’m not going to some prissy private school. I don’t want to have to wear a uniform and be all polite and crap.”
This boy will be the death of me. “Okay, we have a deal. You go to public school, and you can wear what you wish, within reason.”
---
A week later, Dante is getting ready for his first day of school. “You’re really going to wear that ?” Dante’s black t-shirt is wrinkled, and his jeans have tears on the knees and at the ankles. “I just bought you new clothes. How have you managed to damage your jeans so quickly?”
He laughs. “I ripped it on purpose. It makes me look badass. I don’t want anybody messing with me.”
I roll my eyes. “Watch your language. You’re lucky we don’t have time for you to change into something more acceptable.”
“Almost like I planned it that way,” Dante says.
Why does he feel the need to frustrate me like this? I sigh. “Well, it looks like you’re just about ready to go. My chauffeur will drive you to school.” With a smirk, I add, “Remember, play nice with the other kids.”
“Ha ha,” he laughs sarcastically. “I make no promises.”
---
Over the past week, Dante has been a thorn in my side. He refuses to eat meals with me, preferring to take them up to his room. I don’t know what he likes, so I’ve bought him everything a teenage boy could desire: A computer, game consoles, books, a surround sound speaker setup, a new wardrobe, and more. He’s been completely unappreciative of everything I’ve done for him.
I took him in, I fed him, I clothed him, and this is how he repays me? He barely spends any time outside of his room, and when he does, he either doesn’t talk to me or gives me attitude. I can only hope that he’s behaving better at school than he does at home. My hopes are not high.
In moments like this, when I’m battling my frustration and anger at Dante, I have to remind myself to be thankful for the second chance I’ve been given. Clockwork did not have to erase the world’s memory of my half-ghost status, but he did. As far as anyone is aware, I was simply unfit for mayoral office due to selfish actions taken during the Disasteroid debacle. I don’t know the details, and I’m not about to ask the people of Amity Park, who would likely prefer I never show my face again.
So, I moved back to Wisconsin. What else could I do? My castle is still here, and I still own my businesses in this timeline. VladCo is thriving; selfish political moves are not uncommon in affluent businessmen, and while my stocks have dropped, this has not cut into my profits nearly enough to be concerning. Things are much better in this timeline than I expected, and probably better than I deserve.
It almost makes up for the ordeal of having to care for a rebellious teenager. I wanted a family, but not like this. I wanted Daniel to join me willingly. I did not want to wrangle a violent, angry combination of my and Daniel’s worst traits. But this is my only chance to earn my place in this timeline and make up for everything I’ve done.
The phone rings. “Masters,” I answer.
A polite, feminine voice I don’t recognize speaks. “Hello Mr. Masters. Your son got into some trouble today, I’m afraid. I understand that it is stressful moving to a new school, but unfortunately due to his behavior we need to send him home early today.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “What has Dante done?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice steady.
“He got into a fistfight with another student during lunch. We can give you the details when you come down to pick him up.”
“Of course he did. I’ll be there soon.” I hang up, not waiting for an answer.
I walk into the principal’s office 20 minutes later. “Dante. What happened?” I ask as I sit.
“He started it!” Dante points to the boy in the chair next to him, a muscled teenager wearing a letterman jacket.
I glare at him. “I don’t care who started it, I asked what happened.”
“This guy, Kevin, insulted me. He said my outfit looked like I dragged it out of the trash. I can’t let him disrespect me like that, so yeah, I punched him.”
“Dante,” the principal cut in, “you can’t just punch people when they say things you don’t like. I’m sure Kevin didn’t mean to insult you.” Kevin looks like he absolutely meant to insult him.
“Since it is his first day, we’re not going to suspend him for more than the rest of today, but if anything happens again we will not be so lenient,” says the principal.
“Thank you. We will talk about this when we get home, young man,” I say, leading Dante away from the desk.
Kevin sticks his tongue out at Dante on the way out, when the principal isn’t looking. I glare at the kid, my eyes flashing red. He goes pale and looks away.
The ride home is quiet, a thick, heavy silence that lays over the limo like a blanket. When we walk into the mansion, I tell Dante, “Sit,” gesturing to a chair in the living room.
He sits, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘What’? You got into a fight on your first day of school . You can’t be doing this. If only because they are human, and if you reveal what we are, I’ll have to do damage control. And there’s only so much I can cover up.”
Dante scoffs. "Like you have any room to lecture me. Your record isn’t exactly clean.”
“That’s completely different,” I say. “I don’t attack people for offending me. I fight other ghosts for dominance. And I’m trying to be better. As you should be.”
“Excuse me?” Dante raises his eyebrows. “I haven’t killed anyone since I moved in with you. I would say that’s an improvement.”
“That’s a low bar to clear.”
Dante growls and, before I see it coming, he transforms into his ghost form and punches me in the face. My cheek stings with the impact. I transform as well and dive forward, pinning him to the ground. He sinks through the floor and I feel a shove against my back, smashing my face into the carpet.
“You little shit,” I snarl. I phase through the floor as well and emerge behind Dante. I shoot ectoplasmic restraints around his wrists and ankles, shackling him to the floor. He struggles, trying to get out of the restraints. It seems his new ghost form in this clone body is weaker than his old one. That works out for me.
“Are you quite finished?” I ask, transforming back to human and brushing dust off my suit.
Dante slumps and stops fighting. “Ugh, okay, you win. I won’t hit anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”
“You won’t hit anyone unless they hit you first, and you best be able to prove it,” I say.
“Fine, fine,” he says. I release the restraints and let him go.
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” Dante rolls his eyes, but does not argue further.
---
A couple weeks later, true to his word, Dante has not gotten into any more fights at school. Nothing physical that I was informed of, anyway. He doesn’t talk about school very much.
Outside of school, he has been working out a lot. I’ve noticed him using my training simulation room fairly often, and he’s already growing muscles. How he has become more buff than Daniel after only a couple months living in my castle, I do not know. He has not been very sociable, spending most of his time in his room, the gym, or the training room.
“Have you been doing anything except going to school and working out?” I ask Dante after dinner one day. We are seated at opposite sides of the long dining room table, but at least he’s eating with me instead of taking his food to his room.
He shrugs. “Not really. I’m not sure what to do. I kinda spent the last ten years on a murderous rampage. Didn’t really have time for hobbies.”
“You should find something you enjoy doing, my boy. I can get you anything you need. More video games, books, whatever you want. I want you to thrive, not just survive.”
Dante shrugs again, his eyes focused on the fork in his hand. He has finished eating and is fidgeting with the utensil. “Whatever. I guess I’ll try a video game after dinner. Maybe it’ll be fun.”
“That sounds good. Have you made any friends at school yet?”
“What do I have in common with a bunch of teenagers? They can’t possibly understand me.” He stares at the table, refusing to make eye contact with me.
“You might be surprised. Nobody is in your exact situation, obviously, but the things you’re feeling might be relatable to some.”
“Meh,” he grumbles.
“Ours is a lonely existence, but you have the opportunity to make connections with people at school. Why not try?”
“Eh. I guess I’ll try,” he says. “Everyone basically ignores me, and I’m fine with that. But if you think it’ll be good for me, I can give it a shot.”
“I do. I hope it works out for you.” I smile at him, although he still is not looking at me. Oh well. Maybe he hears the smile in my voice.
---
A few days later, Dante comes home from school with a smile on his face, the first genuine smile I’ve seen from him since he moved in.
“You look happy,” I observe as he walks in.
“I had a conversation with someone that was almost normal,” he says. “This boy named Toby saw I was eating alone at lunch and came to sit with me. We talked about class, and how we’re both struggling with math. I’ve never been good at math, and I haven’t been to high school in over ten years (although I didn’t mention that), so it’s been a bit rough. I’m getting through it though.”
“That’s great! I’m glad you’re finally making an acquaintance. Maybe even a friend, one day.” I walk up to him and give him an encouraging pat on the back.
He squirms a little but doesn’t back away from my touch. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Dante says with a smirk. “But… I am trying.”
---
I haven’t seen Dante since he got home from school, looking sullen and angry. I decided not to bother the boy, letting him go to his room. I float upstairs, deciding to do some training in my training simulation room.
I go to open the door, but it is already ajar. I peek my head in. Dante zigzags between the targets, shooting them with ectoplasmic blasts. The blasts are missing as much as they are hitting, but strong enough to obliterate the targets they do hit.
I take a step into the room, still behind Dante. He yells as he puts his hands together and creates a double-wide blast, aiming at one of the largest targets. It hits. The target explodes, sending metal shards flying everywhere.
I make a startled noise and duck. A piece of metal flies over my head, embedding itself in the door. Dante whips around to face me.
“How long have you been standing there, Plasmius?”
“Long enough,” I say. “You’re putting much too much power into those blasts. You don’t need to destroy the targets, only hit them.”
“I didn’t ask for your criticism.” He turns away and throws another blast at a target. This one misses, creating a scorch mark on the wall. He growls.
“You are under my care and I want to make sure you don’t break everything in my castle.”
“How many things have I broken?” He asks, a challenge.
I raise my voice. “You’ve been breaking things since you moved in. Every time you’re in a mood you start blasting things. How many times have I replaced the vase in the hallway near your bedroom? Do you enjoy destroying my things, or do you just not care?”
“AAAGH!” He screams, shooting blasts at every target at once, and missing every single one. “Just fuck off, okay? I don’t need your fucking judgement right now.”
I shut my mouth and take a deep breath. Criticizing him is not going to help the situation. I take a seat in a chair by the door and transform to human.
A few minutes pass, with him breathing hard and trying to hit more targets, but his aim is significantly worse than it was before I joined.
“...Are you okay?” I ask, surprising myself.
“Yes,” he grumbles. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t seem okay.” I might be pushing, but I need to know.
“Aagh. It doesn’t matter! Just leave me alone!”
“I’m only trying to help,” I reassure him.
“Why do you always do this?!” he shouts. “I don’t want your help! You can’t possibly understand what I’m going through!”
I take a moment to word my next question. Softly, I say, “You think I don’t understand what it feels like to have my family stolen away from me?”
“That’s different,” he says as he lowers to the ground. “You never had them to begin with. My family was everything to me and I lost it all.”
“I understand loss, too. My mother died when I was young. I never really got over it.”
Dante floats over to me and sits in the chair next to me. “I lost everyone . My whole family, my only friends, even the one teacher in the school who seemed to believe in me. I disappointed them, and they died because of it.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. “Nobody could reasonably expect that cheating on a test would kill everybody they care about. You couldn’t have known.
“Now, going back and forcing your younger self to relive your trauma… That was a choice that you made. But I’ve also made bad, destructive choices in my life. We’re here to try to be better.” I look over to Dante and see glowing tears running down his face. He transforms back into human form, and I put a hand on his back.
“What else could I do? All I wanted was to make everybody else hurt, and ensure that he still becomes me so I can still exist. I didn’t see any other way out of this. I’m still not sure how to live, now that I’ve even lost my timeline.”
“You live one day at a time. That’s all anyone can do.” I rub Dante’s back as he sobs. “We got our second chance. Don’t you want to make the best of it?”
“I do,” he chokes out. “I just… it hurts, and it’s hard . I feel like I’m treading water and every time I try to get closer to shore, a wave pulls me under. How do I make it stop?”
“You don’t. I’m sorry. But over time, the waves come further and further apart, and it gets easier. As long as you’re trying your best to get better, it will get easier.” I hope he takes my words to heart. He looks like he’s considering them, while he wipes tears off his cheeks.
“Okay. I’ll try. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, my boy. I’m here to help.”
He pauses. “Thanks Vlad.”
“Any time.”
---
Since our heart-to-heart, Dante has been putting in a noticeable amount of effort into improving. He told me he has been opening up to Toby. Not about being half-ghost or time traveling, of course, but he told the boy that he lost his family and he’s been grieving. Having companionship has been good for him.
“Can Toby come over after school tomorrow?” Dante asks me one day.
“Of course, my boy. As long as you keep him out of any private areas, he is free to use any of the amenities in my castle.” I have been trying, as well. I want to help Dante be more sociable, so allowing him guests is the least I can do. I have also been donating to charity. I have more money than I could ever spend. I may as well do some good with it.
“Thanks Vlad.” He has a genuine smile on his face. I’m glad I can make him happy, at least a little.
When Toby comes over, he looks over the castle’s entryway with a shocked gleam in his eye. Dante had apparently not informed him of my immense wealth, and he has likely never been surrounded by this much opulence.
The two boys run up to Dante’s room first, presumably to play the video games Dante has been throwing himself into lately. I can hear them playfully ribbing each other. They seem to be having a good time.
I lounge on the couch in the sitting room, drinking a cup of tea. Things have gotten better since Dante moved in with me. We’ve both hit some bumps, but we’re trying to be better people. I think we’re making good progress. Maybe one day we can be a real family. A small one, but a happy one.