CHAPTER 8: Submissive

As a sly smile formed on his face, darkness shone brightly from his eyes as Dante realized what to do to Watson-the one who had attempted to do him wrong. "I think I shall give some warning that whoever I see around him will be dead," said Dante with this dripping voice as if making sure Watson knew how easy he would end up killing him.

As he walked to the door, his steps began to echo down the hallway-a steady cadence, it seemed, matching the racing of his own heart. "I have to call Aiden, my best servant, and tell him to lock Watson's room so he can't escape,"

Dante thought to himself, going over in his head all the minute details of what needed to be done in this operation. "Watson is a very clever and sly guy," he grumbled, his eyes narrowing as he thought of the task ahead of outsmarting his adversary.

"Aiden!" Dante yelled out loud, his voice echoing through the hallway, as he called upon his faithful servant to come to him.

"Yes, sir!" Aiden replied, running to Dante with a speed that was almost urgent, his eyes fixed on his master's face, as if ready to read in them his every command.

"Come in," Dante said in a very low tone, menacingly inviting Aiden to come into the room-to share in the secrets that he would show him. As Aiden stepped across the threshold, Dante's eyes were into his very soul it would seem, as if to challenge any betrayal of trust with what he was going to let him in on.

As Aiden nodded and walked into Dante's room, a sense of trepidation washed over him, his feet somehow moving of their own accord, as if being pulled into the very heart of darkness.

He was taken aback with surprise, his sluggish pace showing the deep-seated fear that overcame him because no one-not a single soul-entered the room of the powerful Dante without being called, and even then, it was seldom and an occasion to feel privileged.

The atmosphere in the room seemed to vibrate with a nearly palpable sense of tension, as if the air itself was charged with the heavy weight of Dante's formidable person.

"Don't be afraid," Dante said in a low, soothing voice, for he could feel Aiden trembling with fear, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and terror.

"I called you here so you can help me," Dante started, his words dripping with an air of quiet confidence, as if he knew that Aiden would do his bidding without question.

"I will help you, sir," Aiden said in a barely audible tone, hastening to assure Dante of his loyalty, not even allowing him to finish his statement.

"Good boy," Dante smiled, the warm light in his eyes making them glint with approval as he moved around Aiden, deliberately and fluidly, much as a predator will circle its intended victim. His fear seemed to build and increase in direct relationship to the seconds ticking past, his gaze arrested on Dante's face, almost like mesmerism from that strong personality alone.

Dante's smile seemed to spread further across his face, a sparkle of humor dancing in his eyes as he enjoyed Aiden's fear like a fine wine.

While his gaze seemed to bore into Aiden's very soul, Dante spoke in a low, measured tone, his words dripping with an air of quiet authority:

"Back to business, now the plan is to lock Watson in his room, I want to deal with him tomorrow, and I don't want him to escape." The weight of Dante's words hung in the air, like a challenge-a test of Aiden's loyalty and devotion.

"Hee-eee-ee," Aiden stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was searching for words with which to voice his own trepidation, his own fear of consequences for his actions.

His eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating light as he spoke without turning to Aiden, his voice dripping with quiet menace. "Whatever you are thinking, just know I won't take no for an answer."

Aiden's eyes seemed to widen, his pupils dilating with fear, as he spoke forcibly, as if to convince himself, as much as Dante, of his loyalty and devotion: "I will do it, sir." And the words hung there in the air, a promise, a vow of fealty, as Aiden stood before Dante, his eyes cast downward, his posture one of abject submission.

"Good," Dante said in a low, approving voice, nodding his head, while a cold, calculating light gleamed in his eyes. "All you have to do is go to Watson's room and lock it from the outside," Dante instructed, his words oozing with an air of quiet authority, as if he was issuing a command rather than making a request.

But Aiden had demurred, his eyes growing wide with fear as he stuttered, "But, sir, I don't have the key to his room, and therefore cannot lock it from the outside." And the words hung in the air, almost a gauntlet thrown in challenge-or so it would have seemed-at the patience and resolve of Dante standing there, with him, in abasement, head bowed down and eyes averted, submissively.

"It would appear I have the key," he said, moving toward his drawer, deliberately, as calculated as a predator. "I have the keys," he said, staring at the keys that were jiggling in his hands, their metal glinting in the dull light of the room, like cold, unforgiving smiles.

"Take it and do the job," Dante said, firm and commanding, his eyes shining with a cold, calculated light as he handed Aiden the key, like a master manipulating strings on a puppet.

"Ok, sir," Aiden whispered, his voice barely audible, as he took the key, his hand closing on it like a vice, as if determined to fulfill his master's bidding, no matter the cost.

As Aiden turned to leave, Dante's voice stopped him-a firm, commanding voice that brooked no disobedience.

"Remember," Dante said, the words oozing out between his teeth with quiet menace. "I don't need mistake," he said, a gleam in his eye-ice-cold and calculating, like some master chess player waiting for his opponent's next move.

"Alright, sir, I have to do it without fault or mistake," Aiden replied, his voice shaking with fear, knowing that the consequences of failure would be dire, catastrophic even.

And if you don't, Dante asked, his voice low and menacing, like a snake coiled and ready to strike, you know your penalty, right?

Aiden's eyes seemed to widen, the pupils dilating with fear, and his voice barely over a whisper as he replied, "Death." The word was left hanging in the air, challenging, testing the loyalty and devotion of Aiden, who stood before Dante with his eyes downcast and his body an example of abject submission.