Chapter Text
Humans are apex predators.
With each uneven step, the forest floor was stained a dark crimson, blood soaked blades of grass glistening in the sunlight that trickled through the canopy above. The harsh sound of ragged breathing dominated the area, sending small unseen creatures scurrying away.
Every breeze that hit Dante’s sweaty, blood soaked body made him shiver as the world and his limbs slowly became shrouded in static. His heartbeat pounded in the fleshy, shredded mess that used to be his left side.
Humans are apex predators.
This is a fact that Dante knew to be true.
And yet there was a piece of himself missing, sitting somewhere in something’s stomach. Something from another world.
“Why not?!”
He slammed his hands on the teacher’s desk, making her belongings rattle with the impact.
“Why would I want to play another game with you? Do you see this?” Mrs. Taylor gestured at something written on the corner of the whiteboard. It was a score sheet with two names at the top: Mrs. Taylor and Dante. Underneath Mrs. Taylor’s section was fifty-five tally marks. Dante’s section was completely empty.
Dante glanced at the scores, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “What about it?”
Mrs. Taylor slapped a hand on the whiteboard. “What about this makes you think this time will be any different? You should be using your time in Chess Club to improve your skills, not playing the same game over and over!”
“But I might win this time!”
“Go sit down!”
“You’re just scared that you’re going to lose!”
The classroom became hushed at that provocation, multiple chess games pausing to witness the aftermath. Mrs. Taylor crossed her arms, face twisted in a silent rage as she looked down at Dante. “If you don’t sit down, I will be forced to tell your mother about this.”
He promptly went silent and turned, returning to his usual seat at the edge of the classroom. Chess games and conversation resumed, filling the air with chatter and the dull clicks of wooden pieces.
The teacher had refused to play any games with him over the last few weeks, and those tally marks on the whiteboard haunted him like a ghost with unfinished business. It was all he could think about at school, and his grades were starting to suffer for it! Not that they weren’t already suffering…
Something tapped Dante’s shoulder and he turned to see a boy with a placating smile sitting in the seat behind him. “Want to play a game with me instead?”
“No.” He turned his back on the guy.
“Aw, come on, please? I’ve never seen you play with anyone besides teachers before!” The stranger continued even though Dante was sure that he was clearly displaying his level of interest. “How about this: If you win, I’ll convince Mrs. Taylor to play with you again. I think she has a soft spot for me.”
Perking up, Dante turned back around. “And if I lose?”
“Let me see…” The boy put a hand on his chin in thought before his eyes lit up. “You have to come with me and my friends to an abandoned house. If you do that, I’ll still try to convince her because I personally want to see you beat her!”
There was no chance that Dante would lose. Hanging out with this guy and his friends sounded like hell. Besides, he wasn’t the best chess player in the club for nothing!
“Let’s play.”
Groaning, he smushed his face against the dining table. “I lost…”
“So?” Something hard tapped the back of his head and he looked up to see Mom with a plate full of meatloaf. She placed it in front of him, the ceramic hitting the table with a soft clink.
Dante wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth so he could concentrate on being depressed. “So I said that if I lost, I would go with him and his friends to some abandoned house tonight!”
Mom went around, plopping down in her seat with foot kicked up onto the tabletop as she shoved a forkful of meat into her mouth. “Jush dun gogh.”
“Huh?”
She swallowed, pushing back her long, black hair and pointing her fork at Dante. “Just don’t go. Why bother if you don’t want to?”
Dante furrowed his brows, fixing his gaze on his plate and pouting. “Because I said I would,” he muttered.
“You’re always like that, so stubborn,” she scolded, mouth turned up in a fond smile as she shoved more food in her mouth.
A knock on the bedroom door caused the chess trophies on the floating shelves to shiver. Dante looked up from his phone. “Yes?”
The door swung open and Mom entered, leaning on the doorway with crossed arms and brows pinched together. “Don’t go.”
“What?”
“To that haunted house or whatever. I have a bad feeling.” Dante frowned.
“Mom, I have to go-”
“I don’t care that you’ve made up your mind, you aren’t going. End of discussion.” She started to close the door before peeking her head inside with a soft smile. “I’m going to bed, don’t stay up too late. Love you.”
“Love you, too…” She shut the door, leaving him sitting on the bed with a perplexed expression. This turn of events failed to make any sense to him.
“Hey, you made it!” The boy from Chess Club, apparently named Theo, waved Dante over to where he was standing with two other kids.
The street was lonely with only the songs of crickets and cicadas stirring up any sound. He walked up, adjusting his backpack as he glanced at the decrepit house before them. “I said I would, didn’t I?” His expression was neutral, but inside, he was all twisted up with guilt. This was his first time sneaking out of the house.
The moon bore down on the four teenagers, helpfully lighting the area. Theo motioned to the other two kids, a boy and a girl. “This is Carter and Elise. Guys, this is Dante. We’re both in Chess Club.” Carter nodded at Dante shyly while Elise shoved a hand into her coat pocket, pulling out a fat, round candle.
"Check it out! We’re gonna play Bloody Mary,” she chirped happily.
Bloody Mary? That game kids play at sleepovers? He hadn’t heard anyone mention it since elementary school.
Theo ushered the three of them towards the building. The house was a single story with peeling paint and broken windows. As they approached, the scent of rotting wood filled the air. The front door was covered in plywood, nailed shut.
Elise hopped up onto the porch, tugging on the plywood to no avail. Next, Carter’s scrawny arms pulled and caused the entryway to creak a bit, but ultimately failed. Theo stepped up and pulled before reeling back with a hiss. “Ow, I cut my hand!” He and Elise examined the wound as a few drops of blood dropped onto the porch, staining the dark wood black. Theo smiled. “I’ll be fine. It’s really shallow.”
The plywood popped off of the doorframe and clattered to the ground. Dante stood behind the fallen wood, placing a crowbar back into his backpack. The others stared at him.
“You brought a crowbar?” Theo asked. Dante shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“I thought it might be useful.”
The other three kids began to cheer for him as he turned away, hiding his blushing face. “You’re so smart! Okay, let’s go inside.”
Theo pushed the door open, and the smell of disuse enveloped them as they entered, the floor groaning with each step. The room was dusty and littered with small garbage, with the only furniture being a couch smothered in plastic. The walls of the room were covered in a chaotic collage of graffiti, with symbols and words undiscernible.
Elise took one look at the room and hurried off into a corresponding corridor while Carter pulled out a sketchbook and began drawing copies of various graffiti. Dante paced the room, pretending to examine the writings on the walls. He wasn’t very into art, and he wasn’t sure what else one would do in an abandoned house. Theo began a one sided conversation with him, blabbering on about classes, school, other friends, and whatever else he could apparently think of. Dante steadily ignored him until Theo stopped his rambling, coming closer and saying in a hushed voice,
“I heard you nearly beat a kid to death in elementary school. Is that true?”
Dante’s blood ran cold, eyes wide as he stared at Theo.
The boy startled, taking a step back and holding his hands up innocently. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry. That was rude, wasn’t it? I was just curious…” He hurried off to chatter with Carter as Dante glared at the back of his head. How the hell does he know that? Who told him?
His fingers mindlessly wrapped around the pendant of his necklace, the pumps and crevices of the knight chess piece comfortable and familiar.
Theo held Carter’s sketchbook to take a closer look, apologizing when he got blood on one of the strange, circular symbols he had copied.
“Guys, over here! I found a mirror!” Elise shouted from further into the house. The three of them headed to where she was, stepping over fallen furniture and weaving around trash piles. She was in a small bathroom, standing in front of a mirror and placing her candle on the counter. Pulling a lighter from her pocket, she lit the candle, bathing the room in a soft, orange glow.
Dante moved further into the bathroom, as far away from the others and their little ritual as possible. One of the floorboards was bent upwards, revealing concrete below. From his position, he could see underneath it, glimpsing another one of those weird circular symbols that must have been big enough to span the entirety of the small room.
“Okay, I’m starting!” Elise looked into the mirror and began spinning in circles, chanting, “Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary…” She held her arms out on the last one, knocking Carter’s sketchbook onto the counter next to the candle. One of the open pages landed on the lit wick and began to burn “Oops! Sorry, Carter-”
Poof! Everything was obscured by thick fog. Dante coughed and waved his hand around, trying to clear the air. “What the hell?” The fog began to dissipate as a bright, violet glow lit up the bathroom. Dante blinked. The mirror was glowing.
The mirror was glowing? The mirror was glowing bright purple, flooding the room. The corner of his mouth quirked up into an awkward smile as he realized this must be some kind of joke, but then something began to emerge from the mirror.
A hand. It reached out, grabbing the edge of the counter and pulling the body it belonged to through. The upper half of a man was hanging out of the mirror. No, not a man. Men didn’t have horns. They didn’t have glowing, red eyes or claws on each finger. They especially didn’t have razor sharp teeth.
Its long, stringy, black hair draped over the countertop as it stared at the teenagers with wide eyes.
Time stood still.
It was impossible to move.
Saliva spilled from the monster’s mouth and pooled on the countertop.
Then, the thing roared.
The sound jumpstarted his body, and he lunged at the door, following the other three as they ran out of the room.
Just as he turned the corner, something caught his foot and yanked him back. Dante fell, meeting the rotted floorboards with a smack.
Sharpness pierced his left calf, and he twisted around to see the monster’s claws had disappeared into his leg. He scrambled back, but was pulled forward with a yelp as it yanked on him again, bloodshot eyes boring into him like a predator.
Dante was dragged across the floor, only stopping when he was able to grab hold of the doorframe, ignoring the way the claws tore at his leg and splintered wood that made their way into his fingers. Gritting his teeth, he reached one hand out toward the three others who were hesitating in the entryway. They watched as the horror tried to take him, bug-eyed and shaking.
“Grab it! Grab my hand!” The words were shredded and quick, but piercing. The monster pulled harder. His fingers were slowly torn from the doorframe. The others didn’t move.
The thing roared again, and the three of them ran out the door into the night.
It was impossible.
He cried as the claws shredded his leg further.
It couldn’t be happening.
His fingers were ripped from the door frame as his body flew up toward the mirror. Before he was consumed by the purple glow, he caught himself on the edge of the counter.
There had to be one more thing he could do. One last thing he could try.
I don’t want to die!
He panted as his mind raced. There was nothing he could do.
Losing his grip on the counter, he screamed,
“MOM!”
And he was gone.
The world fizzled into clarity. When he was able to see, he saw Dante. Actually, he saw many Dantes. Above him was a collage of hundreds of mismatched mirrors reflecting his image back at him where he lay on the hard floor.
Waking up to this unfamiliar ceiling stirred a sense of urgency, and he forced his sluggish head to turn to the side. He was greeted by a wall filled with mirrors just like the ceiling. At this new angle, a figure appeared hunched over behind him with long, black hair, red eyes, and-
With a gasp, he bolted upright. A clawed hand slammed him back onto the floor by the chest. Dante kicked and struggled, but a large hand around his legs pinned him to the floor.
He clawed and scratched at the arm that held him down, gathering the monster’s skin under his fingernails, but it didn’t seem to help. With the weight on his chest and legs securing him to the floor, he couldn’t move.
Obscuring the mirrors, large eyes peered down at him. Not at his face, but his torso. Warm strings of saliva dripped from sharp, glistening teeth and pooled on his bare chest. The air Dante breathed was polluted with its hot, heavy breaths.
A foreign sound escaped his lips as the monster unhinged its jaw leaned down toward his stomach.
Sharpness wrapped around his left side and sank into the flesh.
He shrieked.
Dante tried to escape, squirming, but it only worsened the pain.
Warmth pooled around his side, seeping into the space between his back and the floor.
Wrapping his hands around the thing’s arm, he squeezed, trying anything he could to alleviate the shredding of his flesh.
It was useless.
It hurt.
All he could do was look up. The hundreds of eyes peered back at him. They were crying. The reflections were screaming for help. But nothing happened.
The monster pulled its head up. A piece of Dante went with it. A loud snap finalized the departure of a part of himself.
The world was twisting around him sickeningly, darkening as it tried to pull him under.
With a bite of his lip and a sharp gasp, the darkness began to withdraw.
Through the ringing that filled his ears, the crunching of teeth mashing skin sounded above.
The monster was chewing, staring at nothing. It caught fallen strings of tissue and blood that spilled from its mouth with its hands.
He wasn’t being held down.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Dante slowly dragged himself out from under the thing’s looming figure.
It didn’t notice.
Faint sunlight filled the room from a wide open door on the far wall.
He got to his feet and tentatively creeped toward the door. Mirrors surrounded the doorway, and he used them to watch the monster, making sure it wasn’t looking.
When he was only a few feet from the door, he tore his gaze from the mirrors, looking outside at a forest that lay beyond. He looked back at the mirrors and-
Its red eyes were looking at him.
Dante burst through the open door and into the trees, low hanging branches whipping his body as his feet slammed against the ground.
He ran. He ran and ran until the heavy footfall that pursued him faded away.
He fled for what felt like hours before the world tilted and he collapsed into the tall foliage. Laying there, he panted, sucking in breath after breath until he was no longer suffocating.
At that moment, Dante knew he was prey.