Salvation in Vengeance

By Charles Dante

Salvation in Vengeance is a collection of short stories, assorted prose, and poetry all inexpressibly linked by themes of violence, despair and redemption.
Three ruthless thieves unknowingly face off against an invisible, relentless serial killer in the feature novelette, Salvation in Vengeance.
Could this be the same notorious killer that had wrecked havoc on a small town in the distant past? Or is there something more sinister afoot?

Also features:

The Gambler – a card-playing novice takes on a card pro and the entire casino establishment.
Salvation in Murder – a miniature tale of a serial killer inspired by a higher power.
Dead Man – Short prose about an unusual hanging with a twist.
School Lessons – a teacher learns an unexpected lesson.
Rolling Heads – A media critic has an axe to grind against television viewers.
Ran Out – Short poem about a captain and his ship.
Additional prose include:
Redemption, the Park, Cataclysm of Nothingness, the Perpetual Nightmare, Avenging Angel, the Prisoner and the Splish.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charles Dante
• Release date: Mar 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215366431

Charles Dante

Charles Dante is a nameless faceless vessel who serves as the transcriber for the Entity—a malevolent force that transcends this world and will ultimately poison all of humanity with its disgust. The Entity has chosen this unknown scribe to spread its venom throughout the universe.Stories of despair, violence and horror are all dutifully recorded, but the insanity and visions of the fantastic has a sinister effect on all those chosen to reveal the Entity’s thoughts.There were others....H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe, just to mention a few, were well known authors who penned these visions of the grotesque that have spread the tentacles of fear across all of humanity.Do not read the works of Charles if you prefer the mundane safe spaces of limited thoughts or prefer to be led around like mindless sheep. Just remember that the cauldron of white hot insanity will eventually explode and invade the world as you now know it—be warned!

Book preview

Salvation in Vengeance

by Charles Dante

copyright 2023 Charles Dante

Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/BravoCovers

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Table of Contents

Salvation in Vengeance

Cataclysm of Nothingness

Redemption

Salvation in Murder

The Dead Man

The Gambler

The Perpetual Nightmare

Avenging Angel

School Lessons

The Park

Ran Out

Rolling Heads

The Prisoner

The Splish

About the Transcriber

Upcoming Stories

Salvation in Vengeance

The huge mansion cast an exuberant shadow on its wide expansive lawn, obscuring the view of the figures in masks and camouflaged clothing crawling along the property. Its marbled patio and steps were laden with gothic statues that reflected light with a peculiar brilliance, illuminating various portions of the grounds and shedding some light on the crawling trespassers.

A particular statue, made almost entirely of a mirror–like surface and located some distance away from the others, reflected an image of a moving figure on the wall—a lone figure climbing the wall with renewed determination after grating down the jagged precipice on the first attempt.

Her face contorted with pain as she gripped the wall with incredibly dexterity, and though her hands were bleeding profusely she managed the ascent, thanks to the inner philosophizing voices that revitalized her entire being.

Sanctuary, this was what she needed and that was what this place represented in its entire gloomy splendor. There was one more thing she needed, and it was redemption. Redemption from a life in the imposing restrictions of the orphanage from which she had escaped, but most of all, redemption from the limits imposed on life itself.

She had no idea how she managed to enter the grounds without being detected, and never questioned why the guards failed to notice her, but the promise of a new sanctuary, no matter how vague the promise, and the chance of redemption, no matter how undefined and improbable drove her forward.

However, her desire for adventure was suddenly cut short when she encountered a dead security guard. Panicking, she turned back and ran straight into a tall man brandishing a very big gun. A mass of black metal descended on her, hitting her skull with a sickening crunch. She thought she could make out the man break into sadistic grin, but the blackness clouded her vision, and the pain numbed her senses.

What you got there? An almost jubilant voice crackled through the air.

We got a trespasser I think, replied the man with the big gun whose name was Laskins.

Maybe she lives here, replied the merry voice belonging to a tall lean and muscular man who called himself Jason.

Impossible! Look at her clothes, she’s probably just street trash, Laskins said in an irritated tone.

Hey Marlon! Jason yelled.

Marlon was an older heavyset man with sad eyes in contrast to Jason and Laskins, who both imposed a stature of restlessness and anarchy. Marlon stared at Xana with a strange gleam in his eyes, but was interrupted by Laskins, who wore a different kind of glimmer in his eyes.

Marlon my man! Did you crack the safe? he asked. Attaining a large sum of money was far more exciting to him than anything else, and his only concern now was to make a clean getaway, and to stick to the plan with no distractions.

Who is this girl? asked Marlon, so completely engrossed by her that he completely forgot about everything else.

Hey stupid, we got to get out of here! Yelled Laskins now getting very irritated at Marlon’s distraction.

Perhaps it was just primal instinct, but one of the guards possessed an extra ounce of life energy and fired desperately at Marlon. Laskins walked coldly up to the security guard, convulsing with pain from his previous gun shot wounds. He knocked the gun out of the guard’s hands and used the back of his gun to toy with him. The guard, twitching from the last throes of his life, crawled towards the gun but was thwarted by a kick to his head from the now gleeful Laskins. The guard had to endure more colorful torture before Laskins got a grip on himself and ended the game by shooting him three times in the head, causing several pieces of brain matter to fly out of his skull.

***

Except for this brief distraction and the presence of Xana, the plan was perfect, and their getaway to their hideout in an old, abandoned church in a remote area was working with clockwork precision. Laskins was driving the old van with tinted windows, and thankfully no alarm was sounded as they rapidly left the scene of the crime.

Laskins was irritated by the refusal of both Marlon and Jason to shoot Xana and dump her body in a dumpster. They both insisted that she could be a hostage in preparation for a hostile situation, which only infuriated Laskins, who was beginning to smell the menacing scent of depraved desire in the air. It was his knack for avoiding problems, aptitude for accurate planning and uncanny sensing of undesirable situations that had enabled him to amass this great fortune that could now let them all to retire very comfortably.

As Laskins looked at the rear-view mirror, something started to bother him. Perhaps it was the attention that they were both giving to Xana or perhaps it was just her face itself. Xana’s face revealed a beauty that transcended the physical realm and hinted at a childlike innocence that she had never lost. It was this innocence that angered Laskins for he found it impossible to grasp the existence of innocence in a world drawn by the violence of cruelty and power. To him, children were not innocent for long and would soon develop into adults whom he had no remorse in killing. Emotions were too trivial and too illogical for him to waste his precious thoughts on, but the idea that a few people could retain their childlike innocence disturbed him.

Even while he felt this mix of confusion and anger towards Xana, he began to smile because he had finally realized his lifelong dream. The perfect heist had always fascinated him since his early childhood. Just when he was a 9-year-old, television presented him with a grand vision of liberation in the form of a flawless, clockwork robbery—an unthinkable fantasy of being completely above the law. Now, this dream was within his grasp, but at the same time he felt the presence of some unnatural force that threatened to take away his primary aspiration. Perhaps it was just his nerves, but this strange feeling seemed to emanate from Xana. Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore this unwelcome sensation, and concentrated on driving his vehicle as inconspicuous as possible so as not to arouse suspicion from the police.

Xana had regained consciousness, thanks to Marlon, who had taken liberties in fondling her breasts. Marlon then pressed his weight on top of her in some strange effort to win her consent for his unwelcome sexual advances.

She thinks you are ugly like the loathsome cockroach! Jason said jubilantly, and abruptly burst into laughter obviously very happy with his wisecrack.

Laskins kept his anger inside as he drove hoping for the time when they could dump her into the garbage. Meanwhile, Xana screamed, bit, and kicked Marlon off her.

You don’t know much about women, Jason said grinning at Marlon, who now had a pained expression on his face. Jason was more cheerful than usual, obviously very confident in his ability to attain Xana as a love interest, and quite amused at Marlon’s pathetic attempt in doing so.

Marlon was the odd one out among them, but his experience in cracking safes made him the top choice for Laskins. Unknown to either Jason or Laskins, Marlon derived great pleasure from the company of young girls in ways that only he could understand. It meant something special to play the father figure to young girls, to touch their soft innocent skin, and to guide them to the stage of womanhood with his distinctive touch. It was a kind of love that soothed both his loins and his heart, and he could never imagine loving someone who was not innocent. Innocence was by far the most important catalyst that enabled him to express love. In many ways, he was very similar to the way he saw himself: an old-fashioned family man only