Victor’s eyes widened. He scooted back. “You?!” he pointed, “You’re the one’s all the Judy’s are talking about! This your fault! This is your fawt! Stay away fwum mee! Go ‘way!” he screamed till a Judy came and picked the boy up, depositing a pacifier in the kid’s mouth. She smiled down at Dante and mouthed “Thank you” to him before walking away.

Dante had already been blacklisted. No one would talk to him. The Judy’s were making it clear that they were doing all of this because one boy had literally stood up to them. Dante would only be able to find company with those who were too far gone to care. This company he refused on principle. Being surrounded by strangers didn’t help. The isolation only made it worse.

Over the next few days, Dante knew he was slipping. His emotions were getting harder to rein in, everything was either ecstasy or misery. He chewed on the bear more often. He might be spouting baby talk, but not even the Judy in the green dress could coax him to speak now. Instead he hardened on the inside, building up a wall of anger to replace his previous desperation.

He did his best to zone out or sulk. He’d only see Lysa at mealtimes, and each time she looked worse for wear; like she hadn’t been sleeping or had been crying a lot. She never spoke either. His sleep wasn’t very restful either. He kept having a reoccurring nightmare that he had been taken to the Newborn Room only to see Lysa and her daughter, Caroline breast feeding side by side. Each mealtime was a blessed reminder that that had only been a nightmare.

It must have been a week when Dante was returned to see Lysa. It was right after breakfast, when he was traded back and put in a playpen with her. She looked better rested than he remembered, but her eyes were more sad. She sucked her thumb, wearing nothing but a purple baby t-shirt and her diaper. He was matching in a blue ensemble.

She stared at him, and then opened her mouth. “Me so sowwy Dante,” she said. “I wuv you.” Lysa was already at the baby-talk stage. Soon enough it would be echoing, then babbling, then gone. A week without him and intense, purposeful, savage humiliation by the Judy’s had undone close to 60 years of willpower and resistance. He loathed those THINGS more than he thought humanly possible.

“No be sowwy,” he said. Damn. It was happening to him too. Figures. “My fawt. Not you.”
Lysa shook her head. “No. Not Dante fawt. Mama Judy….Judy fawt.” Dante shook his head slowly. It was his fault. The Judy’s were doing all of this because of him. If he hadn’t been a threat to them, they wouldn’t have taken things this far. Now they’d obliterate his mind, and everyone else’s just to be sure.

Future generations of Limbo prisoners could expect the same fate if they were successful. These tactics would be justified as a pre-emptive strike on future Orpheus’s. All the better to enforce the will of the Lord and serve their Regent. In a world without ethics, without humanity, this was the end result. Limbo was becoming a place without humanity; because of his actions it was turning into a second kind of Hell. Dante couldn’t think of a worse fate.

Then a thought entered his head. What if he was gone? What if he wasn’t around to justify the Judy’s tyranny? What if he escaped? No, that wouldn’t work. The Judy’s could easily chalk that up to as another win if he just ran away or miraculously snuck out the back.

He’d need to give the Judys’ a reason to be afraid. Not just afraid of him, but afraid of the anger they invoked in him, of the anger that could come from anyone that was treated this way. He’d need to send a message. He couldn’t win, he had no illusions about that. One kid, even one who could temporarily undo a spell that made him an infant, wouldn’t win against the Hosts of Heaven. If he fought, he’d lose and he’d lose hard. They’d spank him and send him to the Newborn Room; giving each other a pat on the back and a “told you we shouldn’t have given him a second chance”. That would accomplish nothing

But, if he combined the two ideas….fought his way past the guard and leave Limbo of his own accord. Bloody their nose and rob them of any kind of retaliation. That MIGHT just be crazy enough to work. The only problem was, Dante had a goal. Not a plan. Not even something resembling a plan.

Then he saw the Judy packing two diaper bags and readying a stroller. It had been roughly a month since he had seen his grandparents. Now he and Lysa were wearing matching outfits again, baby t-shirts and diapers. It Communion day. The wheels in Dante’s head began turning.

“Wysa,” he said, “I’m weeving.”

“Whu?” Lysa said, panic in her voice. “Dante no weeve! No go to udda Judy!”

“No,” Dante furrowed his brow. “Me weeving Wimbo.”

“How?” Lysa, doe eyed, asked.

“You see.” Dante told her.

“Why?” she sniffled?

“Mebbe I go. Mebbe they stop pickin’ on you.” he said as solemnly as he could.

“Wheh you go?” she whimpered.

“Wheh you think?” he looked down.

“NO!” she screamed. “Not theh! Any wheh else!.”

“Don’t wuh-we. Not goin t’day.” He lied. It had to be today. He wouldn’t make it another month at this rate. That calmed her down.

“I tawk you owt. You see!” She said as she hugged him. They both quieted down as the Judy approached. Lysa was picked up and strapped in the stroller. She struggled and squirmed, so the Judy took a little longer than usual.

Midori crawled up, crying softly. She knew. Somehow she knew too. She knew and she saw things too simply to believe the lie. She sat on her heels and crying, opened her arms. She signed, “D no go. I love you.”

Dante hugged her and focused. “Good-bye Dori,” he whispered clearly. “I love you too. I’ll miss you.” He released her, and the Judy in the scrubs picked Dante up and buckled him in the stroller next to Lysa. Dante was glad it was her. He hated Green Dress now, but this bitch had it coming too.

He smiled as he was strapped into the stroller and it started moving into the twisting paths of Limbo. His adrenaline surged as the doors opened out onto the Narrow Path to Heaven. The music in his head turned up to full blast, stronger than ever. If he did this right, the Judy’s would be talking about this for eons. Dante Willis was bringing war to Limbo.

“Wait till they get a load of me.”

Next Chapter: I Am Mine (finale)