Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Lord of Darkness Chapter 3
LORD OF DARKNESS III
By Lennon Karma (Me Again!)
I still don’t own any of da people from Dexter’s Laboratory (but I would still like to own Mandark!) This is chapter 3, and PLEASE, I BEG YOU, READ AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NEED REVIEWS!!!!!!!!!! Thank you.
Chapter 3
Constant Craving
Ocean Bird looked back at her son. What would he think if she told him? He had to know. “Susan, it was Dexter.”
It took a moment for the shock to sink in. “Dexter?” he exclaimed, taken aback. “Why would he5” Mandark could not get his mind around this. Why would Dexter, his mortal enemy, save his life? If he imagined it being Dexter there, bleeding to death on the floor of an abandoned warehouse, he certainly would not have done the same thing. With Dexter out of the way, his path to making the world his own would be cleared for him.
But surely a similar form of logic would have occurred to Dexter that night, so what possessed him to be so gallant? “It was lucky for you he saw you, or you might not be here.” Ocean Bird continued. “He was sitting in his room, reading. Then he looked up, and saw you run past his window. He said something about, A watching out for your dark plans,’ or something, which I didn’t understand, but now it makes sense.” Dark plans? Mandark tensed up, grasping now what this could mean. This surely meant she knew about his lab! Had Olga finally gone behind his back, telling his parents about his love for science, or more likely, had Dexter let the secret out when he told Ocean Bird about that night? All his fear came out in sweat. He was afraid to hear what she would say next. Would she separate him from science forever?
“But how did he know you felt that way? I couldn’t even tell you were depressed!” Mandark suddenly felt like he would collapse. Dexter hadn’t told her about his lab! Of course, that only made sense to him now that he was thinking straight. Revealing Mandark’s lab would mean exposing his own. “Anyway,” Ocean Bird continued, ” Seeing you run by, for some reason he really wanted to know where you were going, so he left to follow you.
“You were pretty far ahead of him by the time he got outside, so it took awhile for him to find you, He said it got easier when the mist became rain, and since you must have run through a puddle, he could follow your footsteps. The footsteps got harder follow once you reached the woods, because the shadowy trees made it too dark to see. How he ever found you, I don’t know, but he ended up at the edge of the lake, and he saw someone going into the warehouse at the other end. He got there just in time to see you, with a knife in your hand and blood running down your arm, fall to the ground.
“He tore strips from his lab coat, wrapping them around your wrist to help the bleeding stop. How he got you back to our house, I have no idea. There wasn’t a phone, so he couldn’t have called anyone, and there’s no way he could have carried you all that way in the rain. But somehow, he did it. Around the time we were going to bed, Dexter burst through the door with you in his arms. We had no idea you were even gone, so it’s a good thing he did. We got you to a hospital, and after a while, you woke up.”
Mandark couldn’t get past Dexter’s compassion. True, the only reason Dexter set off after him was to bar his progress to the lab, which for once wasn’t on Mandark’s mind. That he could understand. But what would cause Dexter to actually help him5beyond him. And worst of all, how could he ever bring himself to face Dexter now that he knew? He owed his life to his worst enemy!
The next few days at school were pressing his fragile psyche to the breaking point. His suicide attempt was now common knowledge simply because the high school wasn’t that big a place; news traveled fast. The things he had to endure on a normal day, the stares, the snickers, were magnified past their usual level. Opening his locker, he found a note, “Couldn’t wait to burn in hell?” Those words overpowered him. Slashing the note to shreds, he threw it in the trash. Eyes fixated on the ground, he made his way to his first class of the day. Accidentally bumping into a popular boy a year older than him, he found himself smashed against a locker, wanting to be anywhere else. “Step off, queer,” the boy spat, “Or I’ll help you get where you were going.”
Between the note and the encounter with the junior, he found it impossible to concentrate, even though advanced geometry was one of his favorite classes. Sitting only two seats from Dexter didn’t help either. Unable to bring himself to face the person who loathed him, yet would not let him break down was an impossible task. Also, admitting that he was in Dexter’s debt was just too much. All he could remember about that night was the rain on his face and the smooth glide of the knife in his hand. He inadvertently started tracing the point of his compass across his wrist. Catching himself, he put it back in his folder. This couldn’t go on. He had to decipher the vagueness.
After biology, another of his favorite classes, he made his way to a period he disliked nearly as much as phys. ed.5 Lunch. He always sat alone. He had half a table all to himself. Even Dexter had Douglas Mordecai to keep him company. Mandark had no one. No one in their right mind would put their social status at stake by sitting anywhere near him. Not that he was all that crazy about them, either. There was only one person he ever wanted to be near. DeeDee.
Over the last few days, he had dreamed about her almost constantly, what it would be like to be with her. Although she was a senior, immensely popular, and being the head cheerleader, was already the girlfriend of a fullback on the football team, he still worshipped her. He vaguely understood that she couldn’t stand the sight of him, he was convinced he could change that. He couldn’t help but gape at her; she was so perfect to him. There she sat, giggling with her equally popular friends, LeeLee and MiMi, about the latest news on who was going out with who.
Surely he could talk to her. That was all it took for Mr. Perfect, Jason LaTour to win her heart. Gathering all the confidence within him, Mandark rose, and made his way to DeeDee’s table. “Hi, DeeDee.” He choked out, trying his best to sound macho. Realizing his voice, didn’t quite work that way, he just waited for her to respond. Turning her head, he got the chance to look into her beautiful, sapphire eyes5 Until her sweet smile became a sneer, crushing him with the words, “Why don’t you try harder to slice your wrist next time, Man-dick?” “Like he has one.” Added MiMi. Crestfallen at his failure, he lowered his head and shuffled away.
That night, her words ran through his head time after time. They hurt him far more than his knife blade had. As he undressed for bed, he imagined it was her undressing him. True, he was no football player, he confirmed at the sight of his bony arms and legs. But he was no less a man. He pulled on his pyjamas, perfectly monogrammed. Turning off the light, he looked up at the bleak sky, knowing wherever DeeDee was, she was under the same sky. She was much like China Rose to him. She was a rose, truthfully, beautiful and popular. What he didn’t see were her sharp thorns.
DeeDee was no different. To him, she was a sex goddess, putting Aphrodite to shame. If only she was there, close to him! More than anything, he wanted her to be the aggressive one; he had no idea what she would expect of him. He had never even been kissed. Much as he adored her, her words still cut deep in him. He must have deserved it; a divine angel such as her would never insult him without provocation. Getting up, he stood at his window, gazing dreamily out toward the horizon, where she lived. Why did she elude him so? His longing eyes sparkled with tears, but he couldn’t let them fall. He boyfriend would never cry.
Wiping his glasses gently on his shirt, he made his way back to his bed. Laying them on his bedside table, he stared up hazily at the ceiling. Slowly, he closed his eyes, and sank into a gloomy, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, he woke up, put on his glasses, dressed, and made his way downstairs for breakfast. At last, it was a weekend, an opportunity to escape the biting comments of his peers. It also meant more time with Olga, but that was better than school, because seeking refuge in his lab usually signaled her to keep her distance. He lost himself in thought; how would he sort out his current crisis? He tried to find his notebook in his lab, but it isn’t there. Then, he came to the foreboding conclusion that there was only one place it could be: Flowertopia. But surely someone else would have moved into their old house by now. What did it matter? He needed that notebook; until he traced the problem back to its source, it would continue to subconsciously plague him.
He wandered absentmindedly back up to his room, then into the lab. Looking up at all his creations, he proudly formulated a plan. Entering a code into his computer, the lights on a metal structure began to flash. He stood up, and purposefully strode over to his yet untested teleportation pod. Stepping inside, he typed in some coordinates, and in seconds, he found himself on his way to the source: Flowertopia.