The shower had been cold that morning, which was enough to put Dante in a foul mood, and agree to the mission that Lady presented him. Some icy bitch had taken up residence in an occult library, in his own town. Sure, he wasn’t enthused to deal with even more cold, but this job would give him the money to pay the gas bill that kept his water heated, so he would just get it over with.
Better that, than another cold shower.
He grabbed breakfast on the way, and was just licking the greasy of the egg-and-sausage pizza from his fingertips as he ascended the stairs, to the doorway that no longer held a door. No, no, that door had been blown to pieces sometime ago and in his path was a wall of ice instead. “Why can’t it ever be Dante, go deal with an imp terrorizing some kids?” he drew Rebellion off of his back, “or Dante, there’s a sexy succubus who just wants a little bit of your life, and then she’ll go off to hell? Or an incubus, I’m not picky!”
He slammed Rebellion into the icy wall, shattering it, and allowing him to walk into the relatively empty library. Thankfully, the ice wasn’t scattered around, and the only occupant wasn’t in hiding. Rather, the demon was sitting at a table, several books on it, and one in her hand.
She gave him a single glance, and then looked back down at her book as if he was nothing at all. A rather…uncommon occurrence, if he was honest. “Sorry Miss, the library is closed. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Dante said, walking forward, skimming the titles of the books she was reading.
Every single one of them seemed about ritual magic.
“I am afraid I am not quite ready to leave.”
“Well, I don’t make the rules,” Dante reached the table and settled his palm on it, leaning into it, “I don’t really want to fight today –”
“Then do not,” a simple statement. Audacious, almost, as she flicked her silver gaze back up to him, “I know we are now even, but I did not expect you to hinder me in pursuit of knowledge, Vergil.”
Dante straightened up immediately, “What did you…?” his confusion seemed to inspire her to actually look at him, the book’s spine touching the edge of the table as she lowered it, reassessing him.
“You are not Vergil. My apologies,” she sighed and shut the book, as Dante stepped back.
“How do you know my brother?” Dante demanded, voice a bit more choked than he intended it to be, “When did you know him?” he wanted to douse the spark of hope that flared in his chest as he looked upon this demoness. There was no way it could have been after he faced Vergil. No way.
But he wanted to hope.
“A little under five years ago,” she rose calmly, “he saved my life, I saved his,” even, as she said, pulling the glaive into her hand, “I do not know where he has gone since then, it was not my concern when he chose to leave,” the wind whispered in Dante’s ear as she held the blade, words he couldn’t quite make out, but a sense of fear and hope beat harder into his chest. “If you hope to see him again, leave me to my research. I intend no harm, and care not for the human world, but Hell has lost much since Mundus took over and I have the unenviable task of restoring it.”
“Who are you?” Dante demanded.
“I do not know,” Dante didn’t understand the answer, didn’t understand it was a joke. It only served to piss him off as his gaze hardened on the icy bitch in her fluorescent green and black gown, poised as if he wasn’t a threat.
He wanted to know more about Vergil, but she had nothing more, it seemed.
Five years was a long time ago. It could have been before Mundus finally took Vergil over – it could have been after. Regardless, it didn’t mean Vergil was still alive.
“Well, I don’t happen to care about Hell, either, and I’m not keen on seeing Hell get its shit together, so I’m afraid your checkout request is denied.” The play in his tone was all but gone, as bitterness cut into each syllable instead.
He lunged forward as she seemed to effortlessly step aside – and only enough, at that! – and lifted the glaive to cut at his neck. He leaned back to avoid the strike, only for the cacophony of whispers to beat themselves into his head.
“You weren’t able to save Eva.”
“Your father wouldn’t be proud of you.”
“Vergil hates you.”
“Lady pities you.”
“You will never be enough for anyone’s love.”
It was as loud as truth. He didn’t recognize the sudden ice that spread from where the demoness stood, to underneath his feet, until he tried to straighten up and go for another strike. He immediately lost his balance and Rebellion plunged into the ice instead to help him stay up.
Icicles flew, and he recognized that the demoness had moved much further away now.
He drew Ebony and Ivory and shot the icicles out of the air before they could ever reach him, grinning, “Oh come on, like I haven’t dealt with a thousand frigid bitches! Do better!”
The way the entire building suddenly trembled, he thought he just might have inspired something ‘better’ and terrible. But then there was screaming outside, and the sounds of chaos from car alarms and other nuisance noises. Even the demon seemed distracted, and though he considered taking advantage of it, he moved – carefully – off of the ice to see what was going on outside, stepping out of the library.
Thankfully, she didn’t try to put a hole in his back with that ice.
Better that, than another cold shower.
He grabbed breakfast on the way, and was just licking the greasy of the egg-and-sausage pizza from his fingertips as he ascended the stairs, to the doorway that no longer held a door. No, no, that door had been blown to pieces sometime ago and in his path was a wall of ice instead. “Why can’t it ever be Dante, go deal with an imp terrorizing some kids?” he drew Rebellion off of his back, “or Dante, there’s a sexy succubus who just wants a little bit of your life, and then she’ll go off to hell? Or an incubus, I’m not picky!”
He slammed Rebellion into the icy wall, shattering it, and allowing him to walk into the relatively empty library. Thankfully, the ice wasn’t scattered around, and the only occupant wasn’t in hiding. Rather, the demon was sitting at a table, several books on it, and one in her hand.
She gave him a single glance, and then looked back down at her book as if he was nothing at all. A rather…uncommon occurrence, if he was honest. “Sorry Miss, the library is closed. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Dante said, walking forward, skimming the titles of the books she was reading.
Every single one of them seemed about ritual magic.
“I am afraid I am not quite ready to leave.”
“Well, I don’t make the rules,” Dante reached the table and settled his palm on it, leaning into it, “I don’t really want to fight today –”
“Then do not,” a simple statement. Audacious, almost, as she flicked her silver gaze back up to him, “I know we are now even, but I did not expect you to hinder me in pursuit of knowledge, Vergil.”
Dante straightened up immediately, “What did you…?” his confusion seemed to inspire her to actually look at him, the book’s spine touching the edge of the table as she lowered it, reassessing him.
“You are not Vergil. My apologies,” she sighed and shut the book, as Dante stepped back.
“How do you know my brother?” Dante demanded, voice a bit more choked than he intended it to be, “When did you know him?” he wanted to douse the spark of hope that flared in his chest as he looked upon this demoness. There was no way it could have been after he faced Vergil. No way.
But he wanted to hope.
“A little under five years ago,” she rose calmly, “he saved my life, I saved his,” even, as she said, pulling the glaive into her hand, “I do not know where he has gone since then, it was not my concern when he chose to leave,” the wind whispered in Dante’s ear as she held the blade, words he couldn’t quite make out, but a sense of fear and hope beat harder into his chest. “If you hope to see him again, leave me to my research. I intend no harm, and care not for the human world, but Hell has lost much since Mundus took over and I have the unenviable task of restoring it.”
“Who are you?” Dante demanded.
“I do not know,” Dante didn’t understand the answer, didn’t understand it was a joke. It only served to piss him off as his gaze hardened on the icy bitch in her fluorescent green and black gown, poised as if he wasn’t a threat.
He wanted to know more about Vergil, but she had nothing more, it seemed.
Five years was a long time ago. It could have been before Mundus finally took Vergil over – it could have been after. Regardless, it didn’t mean Vergil was still alive.
“Well, I don’t happen to care about Hell, either, and I’m not keen on seeing Hell get its shit together, so I’m afraid your checkout request is denied.” The play in his tone was all but gone, as bitterness cut into each syllable instead.
He lunged forward as she seemed to effortlessly step aside – and only enough, at that! – and lifted the glaive to cut at his neck. He leaned back to avoid the strike, only for the cacophony of whispers to beat themselves into his head.
“You weren’t able to save Eva.”
“Your father wouldn’t be proud of you.”
“Vergil hates you.”
“Lady pities you.”
“You will never be enough for anyone’s love.”
It was as loud as truth. He didn’t recognize the sudden ice that spread from where the demoness stood, to underneath his feet, until he tried to straighten up and go for another strike. He immediately lost his balance and Rebellion plunged into the ice instead to help him stay up.
Icicles flew, and he recognized that the demoness had moved much further away now.
He drew Ebony and Ivory and shot the icicles out of the air before they could ever reach him, grinning, “Oh come on, like I haven’t dealt with a thousand frigid bitches! Do better!”
The way the entire building suddenly trembled, he thought he just might have inspired something ‘better’ and terrible. But then there was screaming outside, and the sounds of chaos from car alarms and other nuisance noises. Even the demon seemed distracted, and though he considered taking advantage of it, he moved – carefully – off of the ice to see what was going on outside, stepping out of the library.
Thankfully, she didn’t try to put a hole in his back with that ice.