Absorbed : 134 people.
1 hour later, at 12:00 PM, Dante landed silently on the slightly corroded rooftop of an old warehouse. His feet made no sound, the only sound was whisper of wind and the quiet rustle of his scarf brushing against his back. From this position, Dante could see the secluded parking lot below, lit dimly by flickering floodlights and the ambient glow of the city far behind.
The warehouse was in a forgotten part of town. Not exactly hidden, but overlooked. The type of place no one paid attention to, even if they drove past it every day.
Dante crouched low behind the ridge of the roof, eyes locked onto the empty lot below.
Then it began.
First came a large delivery truck, slightly beaten up and dusty. It rumbled in and parked near the side door.
A few minutes later, an ambulance rolled in behind it. Sirens off. No emergency lights. Just quietly, steady movements.
Dante's brow furrowed.
The fuck? An ambulance? Who the hell is getting deliveries here?
Though, he was on edges no reason they should be here unless something was being moved under heavy cover.
Then—in came the black truck.
'I knew it.'
It rolled in like a hearse, it was moving fairly slow, as if not to damage any goods. Its tires crunched over gravel as it rolled to a stop near the center of the lot.
The driver stepped out. He was jittery—eyes darting around, fingers twitching, neck soaked in sweat despite the cold air. He didn't speak, just glanced toward the other vehicles.
From the ambulance and the food truck, two men in suits emerged. Black ties. Dark sunglasses. Stoic expressions. One checked a clipboard and the other approached the black truck with a nod.
The driver didn't say a word. He just walked around to the back of the truck and opened up the heavy doors.
And then—
Dante's hands clenched the edge of the rooftop.
Out stepped three men, tall and heavily built. Armed, scarred, cold eyed. They held ropes tied to the wrists of… Children.
Around two dozen kids, maybe ages eight to thirteen, barely younger than Dante. They looked dazed. Drugged? Some limped, some cried. All of them had ropes around their wrists and some had duct tape on their mouths.
Dante's teeth gritted as he felt his entire body tense up.
Eight children were shoved into the ambulance, these were the older ones. And sixteen were shoved into the delivery truck, the younger ones. The men worked fast, the children didn't have a chance to fight or even scream. They were shuffled into their respective vehicles like they were cargo.
But Dante didn't move.
Not yet, anyway.
Every part of his body screamed for action.
But he waited.
The ambulance started it engine.
The delivery truck's lights flicked on.
Dante's eyes darted between the delivery truck and the ambulance, both starting to leave.
"Which one…?"
There were more kids in the delivery truck, younger too. Sixteen of them. That would be the target. Logically.
But he couldn't shake off the expression of the boy only a little younger than him being shoved into the ambulance.
He wanted to save all of them.
But he wasn't the god he was made to think he was.
So he made a decision—he would go after the ambulance first, but he wouldn't lose the truck.
With a flick of his wrist, a small tendril of sludge slithered through the shadows and latched onto the undercarriage of the delivery truck. A tracker really.
Then, without hesitating, he kicked off the rooftop and dove toward the ambulance.
The engine roared as the driver tried to speed up, but—
*THUD!*
Dante slammed onto the road behind it, arms turning into long, amalgamations of sludge attached to the rear bumper. His feet hardened into spiked boots and they scraped across the concrete, sparks flying as he dug in, dragging the vehicle to a halt with brute force. The engine whined in protest.
"Wha—?!"
Two men in suits spilled out from the drivers area, both already drawing pistols.
"DONT MOVE!" One shouted.
But Dante was already moving.
With a flick of his arm, the amalgamation turned into a whip and cracked through the air, the first man took it across the jaw and collapsed, unconscious. The second tried to duck, but Dante's second strike caught him in the stomach and sent him crashing into a nearby street lamp.
Dante turned to the back doors.
His expression softened and he pulled down his mask.
He reached forward, grabbed the handles and tore the doors clean off.
Inside, the children flinched. A few gasped. One even screamed.
They were all about twelve or thirteen. Boys and girls. Some were gagged, others weren't. All of them were wide eyed and terrified, packed in like cargo in this claustrophobic space.
Dante's appearance didn't really help. His hair was tangled, his lips were cracked, he had pale skin and many scars on his body.
He took a step forward and they shrank back.
He stopped, crouched slightly to make himself seem smaller. He held out both hands slowly.
"…It's okay," he said, voice low and steady. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
They didn't move at first. Then a girl in the back whispered, "Are you… a hero?"
Dante's eyes flicked down. He didn't answer that.
"I'm getting you out of here," he said instead.
With a wave of his hand the ropes snapped and the gags came off, untied by gentle tendrils that appeared soft instead of sharp.
The kids didn't speak again. But they didn't resist when he motioned them to come out. They loved hesitantly, stepping into the cold night air, huddled close together.
Dante suddenly walked over to one of the unconscious men and picked a phone out of his pocket. He used the emergency call feature and phoned the police.
"Hello, police?" Asked.
"Police, what is your emergency?"
"I have found an ambulance carrying kidnapped children, please come fast."
"Alright, where are you right now?"
"I'm not sure, can you track my location?"
"Yes, I will send a patrol car your way now. Please stay with the children until they arrive."
"Thank you. I'll stay here."
Dante handed the phone to one of the older children, they could explain what happened.
His gaze then shot in the direction the delivery truck had vanished. He felt his sludge stop moving, did they stop? He made his sludge split off and hit the ground, so Dante would head there next.
He still had time right?
But first…
He looked at the children.
He wanted to take off—he needed to.
Every second was a second those children were frightened.
Sixteen kids.
He clenched his jaw, trying to push the anxiety down.
A minute passed.
Then two.
Thankfully his sludge hadn't picked up any movement yet, but it was still frightening.
Still no police, though.
"Come on…" he muttered. "Where are you?"
Then—
WEEEOOOOO—WEEEE—WEEEOOOOO
A siren in the distance. Lights began to glow red and blue downy the road, blowing brighter.
Dante exhaled a sigh of relief.
"There we go…"
He turned to the children, they weren't that much younger than him so he didn't need to crouch or anything, but he rubbed the back of his head.
"I have to leave, to save the other children," he said, voice calm but urgent. "Help is coming."
They looked up at him, uncertain.
"You're safe now," he continued. "Stay together. Don't wander. When the officers get here, tell them everything."
One of the younger boys hesitated, reaching out toward him. "W-What's your name?"
"…My name doesn't matter," he replied. "Just stay safe, stay strong, and protect those around you."
He stepped back and looked toward the sky. The sirens were close now, close enough anyway.
He stepped back again, turned and crouched slightly, his wings bursting out of his back.
"Remember, kids, anyone can be a hero, so long as you have the dream and the drive, you can achieve your dreams."
*FWOOOOOOSH!!*
He shot off into the sky, vanishing into the darkness.
Behind him, the sirens blared louder as the patrol car turned the corner and skidded to a stop by the ambulance.
Dante didn't look back.
His eyes facing were forward.