A/N: Hey guys, just a quick explanation for this crossover ficlet, I simply adore Silent Hill 3, and I saw the movie recently which was creepily and revoltingly and maddeningly awesome too, so I came up with this the other day, hope you like it.
"The darkness always teemed with unexplained sound- and yet he sometimes shook with fear lest the noises he heard subside and allow him to hear certain other fainter noises which he suspected were lurking behind them."
-H.P Lovecraft –"The Dreams in The Witch House"
"No matter how cleverly you sneak up on a mirror, your reflection always looks you straight in the eye."
- Louis Cyphere "Angel Heart"
5 Years after the fall of Temen-ni-Gru….
A storm like this rarely hit the city.
Dante's tall shadow fell across the rain-misted window, as he glanced out toward the night-stained street through the blur of driving rain. In the faint illumination of the feeble street lamps and the sliver of moonlight glistening through the grey-black buildings soaring to the storm-ripped sky, Dante saw only desolate emptiness and the weakly gleaming neon sign of the 7/11 shop nestled between a crumbling, abandoned warehouse and the decrepit remains of what used to be Bull's Eye.
Bad weather, no business, minimum social interaction…Lately his life seemed as bleak as the thick fog that swirled outside. A deep frown settled upon the diabolically flawless face as surely as the dark storm that had descended over the city. Dante was not pessimistic by nature, but he at once recognized the delicate, obscure patterns of a darker storm's silent advent; he remembered that restless feeling taking over him just hours before that fateful afternoon, when Arkham had visited his shop and set in motion the events that forever changed his life. The same prick of unease, that raw gut instinct rather than profound intuition, assailed him once more.
Wintry blue eyes glanced idly over the gruesome trophies from devil foes decorating his shop; warped skulls, ghastly masks that scowled down from the yellowed walls, hollow eyes flashing with sinister menace every time lightning shattered outside.
Dante paced across the wooden floorboards that quietly creaked beneath the restless rhythm of his long strides. For long moments he stared at the battered phone at his desk; sighing in uncharacteristic indecision. Solitude at times like these, made him sentimental for some reason. He wanted to hear her voice; the only person he could afford to befriend, the only one who seemed to understand him. He hadn't seen her or talked to her in years; they had simply lost contact pretty much straight after the…"incident".
But he thought of her quite often. And he thought of her now; the blue-brown righteous fire burning in her eyes, the tousled hair as soft as black silk. He had promised to help her defeat the demons, and fight the darkness together. Why then, had they grown distant and simply one day stopped calling each other? Was it because he was a part-devil that still bugged her? No, she was over such a petty detail, and was ready to overlook his demonic ancestry. Maybe he was a constant reminder of what had transpired in Temen-ni-Gru, just as she was to him. He hadn't forgotten either, for not even death could erase the memory of a twin brother so tragically condemned and lost.
Life had to go on, one way or the other, starting tonight, now.
Long fingers reached for the receiver, but froze in mid-action just when the phone rang with a dull echo that suddenly, shrilly cut through the muted silence. A silvery eyebrow arched in intrigue, as he picked it up and answered with a low, deep voice.
"Devil May Cry?"
There was no reply. Devil- sharp senses tried to focus on the faint voice, but he couldn't hear much from the background static.
"Hello?" He tried again.
A laboured breathing. Whispers, multiple voices talking all at once, creating a ghoulish resonance. He could barely make out the words through the infernal static that went on like a broken record, then abruptly the line went dead, leaving a mystified Dante to ponder upon the bizarre call.
There was no time to think, however, no time to waste. He snatched a pair of black leather gloves from his desk, slipped them on quickly, holstered his twin pistols and grabbed his trench-coat, strapping the Force-Edge to his back.
He felt himself smiling for the first time in a long while…
The mall toilets were atrocious and appallingly gross, which was quite strange, really, as the washrooms in this shopping centre were usually neat and clean, and always smelled faintly of bleach. Now the stench was that of a morgue, or a freshly dug grave, a faint, but foul incense of rotting flesh.
Lady wrinkled her nose, making a mental note to lodge a complaint about the hygiene of the restrooms to the centre management. She turned on the tap, but no water came out. Come to think of it, the sink was caked with suspicious russet stains. This could not be happening to her…Not after all these years.
She peered at herself in the cracked, blood-spattered mirror, her annoyance transforming into apprehension. In the glass, she saw a noxious substance bleeding down the walls in gory, black and crimson streaks, heard the distant, animalistic growls fast approaching. Startled, she spun around; scanning around warily, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. What twisted reality was it the mirror reflected, then? Was she going insane? She turned back around to confront the glass.
Lady was not unsettled and unnerved easily, but she found herself shrieking in revulsion and fear. The glass showed her…
Her true self.
Her eyes were no longer bi-shaded, but jet black, her skin shroud-white; a cadaver animated to a parody of life. The eyeless, bipedal beast growled a hunting dirge at a monstrous pitch, sensing warm flesh to prey on and fragile human mind to bend, hammering violently at the fastened door with tentacles…The banging grew louder and louder until the hideous sound obliterated her screams….
The insistent knock upon the front door shattered the nightmare and dragged her out of the murky depths of a troubled sleep. Lady's eyes slowly slid open and cut to the digital clock on the bedside table. Twenty to three. Witching hour.
She pulled back the sweat-soaked covers and let her senses adjust to the storm-rattled, nocturnal darkness of her bedroom. Wide awake and alert, she slipped out of the bed, her hand closing over her desert eagle resting beside the alarm clock.
She trained her full attention to the front door, small, bare feet deftly and silently moving across the carpet as she approached. Lady was used to these "nocturnal visitations" after midnight. Or so she wanted to believe. Nightmares were not real, they could not rend reality, she reminded herself.
Lady unlocked the door and swung it open, pointing her gun straight at the centre of a black shadow, tall and elongated to sinister proportions. When the bowed head lifted up promptly, she realized the ominous figure was not the product of a sleep-addled imagination fuelled by her recent nightmares.
Eyes coloured to blue steel and ice fixed upon her in return, in slight amusement in fact, softly glittering.
"Dante?" Lady said, bemused, and lowering her gun, reached for the light switch.
Rainwater glistened on the pale face and blood-scarlet leather, dripping moonlight streaked hair plastered across the smooth forehead. A slow smile crooked the side of his lips.
"Been a long time huh?" The shadow spoke, softly, his voice deep, resonant with that unmistakable, trademark confidence, although less cocky than she had expected.
Lady allowed her guard down for the briefest moments and responded with a smile in kind. She half expected him to just invite himself in as usual, but he just stood there on her threshold with that soft grin of his.
"I probably should be asking you what the hell you're doing at my door at this time of the night, but looks like you're about to tell me yourself. By the by, when you decide to come inside, do close the door would you? It's freezing."
"I didn't want to barge in." A hint of a grin, perhaps.
"Well that's a first." Lady teased gently…
The demon hunter dried his rain-drenched hair with a towel Lady provided. It smelled like lavender and cleanliness, just like the rest of the small, neatly furnished apartment.
He leaned against the tidy, scrubbed kitchen counter, sipping a steaming mug of coffee and watching the only girl who had enough balls to go against the fiercest demons, who, also happened to be the only girl who had a significant resistance to his charms. He decided he liked her this way.
The half-devil let his eyes wander hastily over her tight, small, but curvy figure. She looked beautiful even in track pants and an old t-shirt that was a size too big. Her dishevelled hair and the deep shadows under her wide eyes did not diminish this beauty one bit. Although she did look different somehow…Tired, but restless like him.
"Hey, are you okay? You look a bit pale."
"How do you expect me to look at an ungodly hour like this?" Lady mumbled as she poured herself a coffee and stirred in some milk.
"If you think you look like crap, you should see me first thing in the morning." Dante gave a faint grin, taking another sip of the long black.
"I'll pass, thanks." Lady replied with a roll of her azure-brown eyes. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to see you again, Dante." She said mildly.
"Don't speak so soon."
"Why do you say that?" Lady stared at the demon hunter.
"Well, I had strange a call about half an hour ago, looks like I've got another job, but it requires a small trip to a delightful little town that conveniently doesn't seem to be on the local map anymore."
The florescent kitchen light buzzed and flickered overhead, then died as thunder rattled the windows. All the lights went out, darkness engulfing the entire apartment.
"Not again…" Lady grumbled softly and searched a drawer for candles. "Anyway, you were saying?"
Dante glanced about with a cocked eyebrow, shrugging to himself.
"Are you up for a little vacation? All expenses paid of course."
"Dante, I'm not in the mood for silly games so just cut the crap and shoot if you please." Lady fixed a couple of lit tapers to a saucer.
"I'm dead serious, Lady."
"Right, I'm still waiting for an explanation if you haven't noticed."
"Silent Hill." The deep, dark velvet voice intoned without humour. The stark austerity of his face seemed to startle her. "I'm going to Silent Hill."
Lady went rigid. She stared into the flickering candle flame, trying to banish the memories that reared from the void of her mind like a multi-headed, snarling hydra bent on destruction of her sanity.
When she didn't answer, and even went a shade paler, Dante slipped from the stool and came around the counter, laying a gentle hand on her drooped shoulder, speaking softly.
"We can talk about this in the morning if you're not feeling so hot."
"I'm fine. Keep going." She snapped. Why was this happening…Why now…?
"Like I said, I came here straight away, thought you might be interested." That was another way of saying he needed her help.
Lady gave an absent nod. Dante was the only person who knew her dirty secret. That at one time Arkham was involved in a bizarre cult originated in a quaint lakeside town called Silent Hill some years before the Temen-ni-Gru incident. What Dante didn't know however, was that she was born and raised there, like her beloved mother…She wondered if she should tell him of her nightmares.
"All expenses paid you said?" Lady tried to smile. "That's an offer too tempting to refuse. Besides, I do need a break…" Lady said airily, but she could not hide the tense edge in her voice.
Dante knew better than to question her mood. Instead he gave her a friendly pat on the arm and followed her out of the kitchen into the lounge room, candle in hand. Shadows responded to the tiny flame in a writhing dance, and Dante casually settled his weight in a couch, stretching his long, crimson clad legs.
"Hey, don't get too comfortable, I won't be too long." Lady took a lit candle and started down the hallway.
"Take your time. Wake me up when you're ready." Dante smiled wickedly and folded his hands behind his head, watching her slender silhouette disappear into the corridor.
He listened to the sound of rain beating against the roof, his eyes sliding closed. It felt good to be here, talking to her again, after all these years. She hadn't changed much, but he could tell there was obviously something wrong. He would wait for her to tell him. She always did.
"Okay, let's go. Chop chop!" Her voice snapped through the darkness 10 minutes later.
Dante jolted awake and flicked open his eyes, regarding Lady with ill-concealed admiration.
"Wow that was quick." He jumped to his feet and took the flashlight from her as she buckled on her boots.
"I told you. Leave your bike in the garage, we'll take my car."
"We might as well catch the bus then." Dante sighed, wondering how the old mini would make it to the abandoned town in this foul weather.
"Hey, it's no dodge viper, but it's got a heater, and a radio." Lady took her car keys and gave Dante a friendly shove. "Come on, we'll be fine."
"I'll take your word for it." Dante didn't persist. She did seem eager to get to Silent Hill for some reason.
Maybe for a change, everything was going to be fine, like she said…He followed her in the pounding rain to a battered blue mini, and didn't look back…