Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Lord of Darkness Chapter 2

Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Lord of Darkness Chapter 2

LORD OF DARKNESS II

By Lennon Karma

Just to make life easier, these * * * indicate a flashback. Kinda like quote marks.

While I’m babbling, I should say that I don’t own any of da people from “Dexter’s Laboratory” (although I would like to own Mandark! J
) Plus I think the first fic was kinda better but that’s okay. This one is a series of flashbacks, in case it doesn’t make sense. There will probably be a third one eventually, and I hope it will be good enough to make up for this one. I hated to do this to him, but it seemed to suit him in a twisted way. Now without me boring you to death with this, you can read the fic:

Chapter 2:

Post Trau-Mandark Shock

Intense. The brilliance of a light penetrating his head was almost more than he could bear. Mandark’s eyes flickered open, and to his astonishment , he was no longer in the dank warehouse, but a green room. A hospital. Trying desperately to analyze his surroundings, Mandark couldn’t decipher much in his tremor except for the wrapping covering his left forearm and the blurred faces looking down at him.

Voices. He recognized voices but was too dazed to catch the faces. “Where did you find him?” chirped a voice. That, he knew, was his mother. “In the old warehouse by the lake, Mrs. Astronomenoff.” He knew that voice as well. The quality was unmistakable. It was overly familiar, but from where? Mandark faded in and out of consciousness, at last lapsing into sleep.

* * * *

Where was he now? Certainly not in the hospital where he had been. It was as if he was back in Flowertopia. He’s sitting on the grass looking up into the faces of his parents. They are unconditionally proud of him. Every breath he took was sacred. Fearful, he whimpers, motioning roughly in his parents’ direction. Wind Bear scoops him up, cradling him. “We love you, Susan, It’s all right.” he consoled. Falling asleep against his father’s chest, he smiles in genuine contentment. Fragile and fearful, though he was, he was pure. He was happy.

* * * *

A hand on his forehead roused him. “Father?” he questioned in little more than a whisper. “Shhh. Susan, take it easy.” Wind Bear soothed him, stroking Mandark’s forehead and running fingers through the strands of raven hair. Mandark slipped slowly out of consciousness once more.

* * * *

He finds himself in Flowertopia once more, but older now. As he took his first unsteady steps, his mother cheering him on and his father by his side prepared to catch him should he fall. As he advanced himself to walking, he noticed for the first time just how incredible the world was. What made cars go? What made the sun shine? How did everything get there? He made it his life goal to find out, right then and there. But the distraction caused him to lose his balance and fall into his father’s arms.

Not long after, he came upon his first discovery. The day he stumbled upon abandoned science. Why it was there he doesn’t know. But its beautiful gleaming metal and lightbulb are enough. Watching the button start up the charges to ignite it spurred on an unquenchable thirst for science in his blood. He was in his own world.

Too bad his parents weren’t psyched. “Susan, we have no need for technology. We have love and meditation. The simple things are often the most beautiful.” The simple things are often the most beautiful. He hears that a lot. But science is his passion. Nothing could keep his mind from trying to work out the mysteries that laced the universe. His days are filled with love and happiness, some of the best of his life. But hindered by the gentleness, he is held back from his full potential. And his hopes go down from there at this innocent age.

“Wind Bear, Susan is taking interest in science, and turning away from the peace we’ve tried to nurture in him.” His mother worries for his innocence like this often. “Give him time; he’ll be fine.” His father always seems more patient with his curiosity than does his mother. Unconvinced, Ocean Bird keeps a watchful eye over her son, watching him be led deeper and deeper into the ways of science. However, she had her own interests at hand, a big change for Susan.

Leaning against the base of an oak tree, he looks up at a bird flitting through the flowers, but rather than pursue the specimen to examine it, he concentrates on the words spoken to him earlier. “Mommy is going away for a while to bring you something wonderful. A little brother or sister.” He liked the idea at the time. A new baby could distract his parents enough to allow him the chance to explore the scientific world.

“Susan, meet your baby sister, Olga.” He looks down at her. She resembles a doll, so small and delicate. Now he had his chance to create in the name of science. Not so. If anything, his world closes in around him. As he explored the force of gravity, he had to join a family meditation to welcome Olga to the family. Unraveling the mystery of centripetal force would have to wait until after Olga’s diaper was changed and she was sleeping. She is a thorn in his side at this early age, and was in for the long haul.

* * * *

Mandark woke again, regaining consciousness for the first time since that traumatic night days earlier. Realizing he was at home, he shifted his eyes out the window, seeing the sunlit rays dancing through his window. Propped up against his pillows, He wondered what had been going through his head that night. What caused him to be so down on himself as to attempt to take his own life? H e looked down at his arm. Peeling off his bandage, he discovered a faint red line in the shape of an M on his lower arm. Tracing over its jagged pattern, his mind drifted back through the years.

* * * *

Back in the days of Flowertopia, Mandark remembered his first experience at school. He enjoyed school, feeling more at home in these surroundings, especially since he was far from Olga. Usually, though, he would try to veil himself with invisibility at the back of the room. It wasn’t so much out of the hatred and spite he would come to feel for humanity in later years, but shyness. Would these people feel the way his family did? Would they cast him out for being the scientician he craved to become? It seemed not. As he grew older, not only did he learn, but he discovered. His young genius intellect allowed him to explain things that his own teachers could not. He had truly found his place, at the top of his class, unchallenged by any other.

But he lived a double life. At school, he was the thriving genius, already having skipped a grade. At home, he was the strange one, the “other kid”, and he had a part-time job as Olga’s personal property. As the years went by, Olga’s artistic dance won the admiration of Wind Bear and Ocean Bird. “What about Susan?” Wind Bear questioned Ocean Bird one day. “Now that we have Olga, it’s like there’s no time for him anymore.” Ocean Bird considered. It was true, but what could she do? As much as she loved her first child, he was so vastly different that there was still only one natural response. So without any acknowledgement of it, the silent, subtle bias followed Susan constantly.

Olga originally tolerated Susan; she was neutral to him. However, the day she stumbled upon his scientific discoveries, everything changed. He was creating his own mini-laboratory in his closet in his Flowertopian home, equipped with his many discoveries, which all centered around that first one: the lightbulb. As Susan sat in the closet, he wondered what it would take to make his parents accept the life he was choosing for himself at this young age. In a tattered notebook, he wrote down all his discoveries, which was becoming quite the thesis. Olga, who at the time was in her first year of school, entered Susan’s room looking for a pencil, knowing he had many.

There weren’t any in his room itself, but neither she, nor anyone else, knew what lay beyond his closet door, and up until then, no one had really cared. They just assumed he was an eccentric child, hiding a dark secret of some sort, which, in a way, was true. Olga, determined to find a pencil, crossed the threshold and opened the door. There he sat, on the floor, surrounded by various metal creations far beyond her scope of mind. “Susan!” she shrieked. Looking up quickly from his work, ha saw his sister, and leapt to the closet door. “What are you doing in here? Do you want mother and father to hear you?” This must have awakened a part of Olga’s mind she hadn’t known existed before. Realizing that she now had the power to blackmail her brother for the rest of his days, he was at her mercy to keep his secret.

As he aged, other children perceived his oddity as well. He was a social outcast: no one knew much about him and none cared to find out. He was always last chosen for gym teams. When the desks were set in pairs, the left over desk automatically fell to him. The only pleasure he got out of school came from his teachers’ approval of him. Still, even they shied away from his corrupt nature. He was well exercised because his trip home usually consisted of a sprint to avoid his tormentors, only to meet another at home.

“Well, Susan, you look tired. I can help with that.” Periodically, Olga would make it her mission to make Susan’s home life as miserable as his school life. Despite her small size, she could strike fear in his heart. Grabbing the collar of his pink shirt, she could yank him to his knees, at her mercy. Twisting his arm behind his back, she just thrived on that expression on his face. His eyes forced shut, his mouth closed tightly as well, to hold in a wail. He knew it would only be worse if he did. He couldn’t help it; his arm already hurt so badly, what difference did it make?

“Olga, please, stop!” he pleaded. He never did get an answer, just a smack in the nose. Deciding her work was at an end, at least for a while, Olga stalked back to her room. Blood surged from his nose, and he staggered onto his bed, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

He was sure his parents knew what was going on, but assumed that they were either afraid to step in or simply didn’t care.

Either way it made sense, as he always felt like an outsider, a stranger in his parents’ home. They had to know, certainly after the evening he came down for the family meditation with a black eye nearly swollen shut, or the day he came slinking downstairs for his piano practice with bloody gashes on his shoulder. When his mother asked about them, he told her it happened at school. But surely she could see in his eyes it wasn’t true.

This continued as the years went by, it became routine: he woke up, he went to school, he was beat up, he came home, he was beat up again. At least he had his closet. He wrote in his notebook about all his latest works, but also about his everyday experiences, school and home. It was his chance to let out the constant fear and loneliness. Continuing like this hardened his heart, turning him to the dark side. It was his destiny: to be the Lord of Darkness.

Sixth Grade. That was the year he changed from boyhood to manhood. Well, it was the year of his first school dance at Flowertopia Middle School. All the popular boys were asking out the girls they liked so effortlessly. Surely he could do it as well. He couldn’t accept a girl’s invitation; she was probably just trying to put him down. Why wouldn’t that be the case?

Here he went, to ask out the girl of his dreams, China Rose. Her flowing brown hair reached nearly to her waist, and every time she smiled, he would find himself licking his lips, dreaming of being with her, kissing her5 But he knew he couldn’t think about that or he wouldn’t be able to get a word out. Striding up to her confidently, he asked in the most suave voice he could produce, “Hey, China R5R5Rose. Would y…you like to go to the dance with me?” There, he had done it. Now for an answer. He held his breath, feeling his heart rate quicken. Turning slowly from her friends to face him, she smiled at him darkly, slightly longer than smiles usually last. She whirled back to her friends, quickly, whispering. Then, she ambled up to him, whispering seductively, “Pick me up at 7 Friday night, Susan. Oh, want to come over tonight for a study session?” Then she and her pack drifted away. He couldn’t believe it! The most divine girl he had ever met agreed to go with him! He couldn’t wait for Friday night now! Racing home, he crashed into his bed smiling and picturing himself being with China Rose.

On Friday night, Susan made his way to China Rose’s house, which he passed on the way home from school every day. When he wasn’t being chased, he hoped to at least see a glimpse of her. Now he would get to admire her up close. He rang the doorbell, and waited. At last the door opened. It was China Rose. Her long hair was twisted up in a clip behind her head, and her dark blue, sleeveless dress silhouettes her perfectly against the light inside her house.

They made their way to the middle school; the sheer mood of it caused Susan’s heartbeat to quicken. The fact that China Rose was here with him on the way to the dance was plenty for him to be nervous about, but when she moved closer to him, taking his hand, that was too much. That simply confused him: why was she so eager? Did she like him the way he liked her? So it seemed to him. Passing through the flowery arch into the gym, he became certain of it.

Susan enjoyed the dance at first, hanging around with China Rose and her friends and dancing. He actually felt like he belonged. He was accepted. Then, gradually, the lights dimmed, the music slowed, and he looked to China Rose, who led him to the dance floor. Wrapping her arms around his neck foxily, he found himself looking straight into her eyes. The mirror ball on the ceiling sent off flickers of color across her face, highlighting its beautiful forms. She rested her head on his chest, stroking the back of his neck with her hand. He had never felt like this before. Where were these emotions coming from? It took all the effort within him to resist them. All sorts of images flashed through his mind: slowly taking her clothes off and being rough with her, or her handcuffing him and tying him down. His spirit soared. Nothing in Susan’s entire life had worked out so perfectly.

As the song ended, China Rose released her hold of his back and neck, stroking his face. “Wait here,” she instructed him. Susan could not believe what had just happened. This incredible beauty had not only agreed to go to the dance with him, but also seemed to truly enjoy it. And to his dismay, in a moment, he found out why.

“Oh, Susan!” he heard her call to him. “Yes, China Rose?” he answered hurriedly, hoping she was looking for some affection, providing he had an infinite supply. “Susan, meet my boyfriend, Arrow,” Susan, who was too wrapped up in congratulating himself on his success to fully understand, looked at Arrow, smiling, when the words sank in and cut deep. Returning his eyes to China Rose, he questioned her with that unmistakable expression of confused rejection. “But China Rose, I thought5I thought that you and I5” China Rose tried her hardest to look shocked, but in the end, burst out laughing. This wasn’t the sweet little giggle that he had once adored, but the same nasty cackle he often heard from Olga. The kind of laugh that automatically want to become invisible. “Shit, did you actually think I would go out with you?” she mocked as she slowly regained her composure. “Or that I would let you?” Arrow asserted, stepping up to Susan, towering over him. Even in Susan’s clouded state of mind, he could understand the logic; the perfect guy for the perfect girl. Arrow was muscular and powerful, inside as well as out. Although he didn’t have Susan’s intellect by a long shot, nor was he much taller, but he seemed like some vision of male perfection. He was the boy everyone wanted to be.

Susan’s once-dazzling eyes dulled, and he looked pleadingly around himself. “What made you agree, anyway, China Rose?” asked Arrow. Smirking back at Arrow, “I got him to do my homework,” she confessed. Stepping up to him, she stuck her lip out in a pout and rubbed against him. Putting one arm around Susan’s shoulder and the other across his chest, she screeched back at Arrow and her friends, “Maybe now he’ll do my homework for next week!” The group exploded into laughter. Susan, feeling a lump welling up in his throat, darted into the bathroom. Drenched in sweat, he unbuttoned his shirt, and looked at himself in the mirror. He was a failure. He had failed at garnering the attention of his true love. But how could he blame her? His thick black glasses masked his face, he had no muscle to speak of, not to mention his secretive, scientific ways. Deep down, he had known it would end this way. He knew how the world worked. It was Charles Darwin’s theory: natural selection. No way could he bear to face them again. Standing on a fallen table near a wall, he could reach the window. It was locked, so with one swift strike, he smashed the glass, and shards of the window flew past him, slicing brutal rips in his arm. But he couldn’t feel the waves of sharp pain pulsing up his arm, all he felt on his long trek home was the ringing of China Rose’s cruel laughter. He didn’t even notice the trail of life-giving blood he left behind him.

* * * *

Slicing the cut in his arm in the warehouse that night a month earlier put Mandark back in that bathroom at the dance. For the life of him, he couldn’t even recall China Rose’s face, the apparition he had fallen in love with nearly 4 years before. While he knew he should put those memories behind him, as they were what had caused him to become suicidal. Still, something nagged him to search out the confines of his psyche. No matter what he did, he could not suppress the need to get to the root of these emotions. Perhaps, he thought to himself, if I figure out what’s causing the problem, I would be able to solve it. But I remember so much of my past, what am I missing?

Mandark took a stroll through his lab, examining every detail, hoping something would spark a memory. Nothing. He checked his notes. No luck. What was the missing link? What made the difference? He had everything documented in his notes5

That was it! His notebook! Back in his glory days in Flowertopia, he had taken note of everything he came upon, be it a scientific discovery or a personal event. That notebook bridged the gap between his past and his future. Rushing to his master computer, Mandark punched in a code to search the laboratory for the key to his past. A message came up on the screen: “0 results located.” How could that be possible? He had put all his things in his new lab when he created it, surely it would be here somewhere, unless5unless he had left it in the closet in Flowertopia! If that was so, there was no way it would still be there. Dismayed, he tried yet again to recall what had led him down his current path.

As he tried desperately to continue his train of thought from where he left off, he admitted defeat. He couldn’t remember anything at all between that dance and his move to the American suburbs. What could have happened in that amount of time to cause him so much misery? Making his weary way downstairs, he came face to face with his mother.

“Susan, how are you today?” she asked. Weeks earlier, he would have insisted that she call him Mandark, but somehow, it just didn’t seem to matter anymore what she called him. “Fine, Mother.” He answered. “That’s good.” She smiled. While he had his mind on that night, Mandark managed to scour up the courage to ask a question that had been buried under his skin since that night. “Mother, who was it that found me in the warehouse that night?” Anxiously, she looked off misty-eyed into the distance, then back at her son, prepared to confess to him what happened on the night when all seemed lost. Unsure of his reaction, she spoke.

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