Chapter 1
The Hunter must face his past before descending into his destiny.
Dante, Son of Sparda, leaned casually against his bike as a towering inferno of magical fire roared before him. His blood red trench coat hung loosely off his shoulders, unhindered by the waves of heat pouring out of the barrier. His cold eyes examined the wall with unimpressed glances while he tapped his gloved hangs against Ebony and Ivory, his custom handguns. Behind the Hunter, his sword, Rebellion, hummed anxiously as it dripped fresh demon blood. He reached a hand to move a stray strand of ghost gray hair from his face as the flames licked and danced. The wall, Dante knew, blocked the doorway to the 5th circle of Hell, the supposed realm where Sparda traveled so many years before. Still, he wasn't planning on stopping after that. The Hunter had intentions of going all the way to Satan himself if he had to, or until he died trying. Visions of his past began to flash through him mind then. He thought of his brother, and his mother. He thought about how his mother looked to him, then he thought of Trish, the first girl he really ever cared for. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he remembered the first time Trish entered his house. She had thrown him against the wall, impaled him with his own blade, and then threw his bike at him. He missed Trish. He shook his head. Why did you betray me? He thought. He had trusted her with everything, even his father's sword, Sparda. Dante sighed and stood, his eyes fixed on the firewall that towered over him. He pulled an amulet from around his neck and examined it. The circular necklace was once his and his brother's. He had obtained it from his brother's evil shadow when he was hunting Mundus, the demon army's warlord. It had changed somewhat to hold three stoned of different shapes. Two were crescent shaped, and the third was spherical. He pulled fourth from a zipped pocket, three such stones and placed them into the amulet. They locked into place as he slid them in. The curved stones were golden topaz, and ruby red, while the third stone glowed bright blue and crackled with unknown energy. Quickly, he slipped the necklace back under his black vest, and turned to his bike. He froze. There was a change. The roar of the fire had been silenced, and now there was no sound. His eyes darted toward the barrier, which was still flaring feverously, but saw nothing. His hunter instincts began to well up inside him as he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. With one fluid movement, he brought Ebony and Ivory out as he spun and poised to strike. There, at the end of his barrels, were those familiar yellow eyes and long hair. His composure wavered as he blinked repeatedly, then the hunter reminded him what he was doing. Two clicks on his guns released the safeties as he kept them trained. "Long time no see Dante," Trish said, walking around so that the Son of Sparda faces the flaming wall. Dante kept his guns tense, and his trigger fingers tenser as he said not a word. Trish knew better, she had worked with the Hunter and had seen his thoughts, so she understood his silence. "I've been sent to wel----" "Sent?" Dante scoffed, thinking Trish better than to be a mere servant to some other warlord or even Satan himself. "I'd rather you didn't welcome me." Trish shrugged and walked on. She slid her hands across the bike and leaned calmly against it, her eyes piercing into Dante's own. "We think it tradition that we invite the Devil Killer to Hell. Sparda did the same, so it's only natural for you to be welcome too." Unwelcome is more like it, Son of Sparda thought as he began to release his hold on the triggers. Trish shrugged and pushed away from the bike and walked toward the inferno. Dante blinked then dropped his guns, "Wait." The woman stopped, and turned slowly, her yellow eyes as intense as the fires. "Yes, Son of Sparda?" "Why did you betray me?" Inquired Dante. He did not mean to be forward with her, but he need to know, he was somewhat of an investigator matter-of- factly. Trish's expression did not change. She merely cocked her head to regard the Hunter before stepping back into the fire and disappearing. Then, her voice cut through the silence and into Dante's head. "Because I knew you would come." At that instant, the barrier of evil magic began to shrink and die down to reveal an ordinary wooden door with a hotel number on it engraved in gold that read, '705'. Dante holstered his guns and reached into his pocket. He produced a padlock and a long chain. He then walked over to his bike and weaved the chain through the wheels and handlebars, then latched it to the padlock. "To Hell then," Dante repeated remembering his words. "To destiny."
Stay tuned for more. And trust me, there will be action. -Art-
Dante, Son of Sparda, leaned casually against his bike as a towering inferno of magical fire roared before him. His blood red trench coat hung loosely off his shoulders, unhindered by the waves of heat pouring out of the barrier. His cold eyes examined the wall with unimpressed glances while he tapped his gloved hangs against Ebony and Ivory, his custom handguns. Behind the Hunter, his sword, Rebellion, hummed anxiously as it dripped fresh demon blood. He reached a hand to move a stray strand of ghost gray hair from his face as the flames licked and danced. The wall, Dante knew, blocked the doorway to the 5th circle of Hell, the supposed realm where Sparda traveled so many years before. Still, he wasn't planning on stopping after that. The Hunter had intentions of going all the way to Satan himself if he had to, or until he died trying. Visions of his past began to flash through him mind then. He thought of his brother, and his mother. He thought about how his mother looked to him, then he thought of Trish, the first girl he really ever cared for. A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he remembered the first time Trish entered his house. She had thrown him against the wall, impaled him with his own blade, and then threw his bike at him. He missed Trish. He shook his head. Why did you betray me? He thought. He had trusted her with everything, even his father's sword, Sparda. Dante sighed and stood, his eyes fixed on the firewall that towered over him. He pulled an amulet from around his neck and examined it. The circular necklace was once his and his brother's. He had obtained it from his brother's evil shadow when he was hunting Mundus, the demon army's warlord. It had changed somewhat to hold three stoned of different shapes. Two were crescent shaped, and the third was spherical. He pulled fourth from a zipped pocket, three such stones and placed them into the amulet. They locked into place as he slid them in. The curved stones were golden topaz, and ruby red, while the third stone glowed bright blue and crackled with unknown energy. Quickly, he slipped the necklace back under his black vest, and turned to his bike. He froze. There was a change. The roar of the fire had been silenced, and now there was no sound. His eyes darted toward the barrier, which was still flaring feverously, but saw nothing. His hunter instincts began to well up inside him as he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. With one fluid movement, he brought Ebony and Ivory out as he spun and poised to strike. There, at the end of his barrels, were those familiar yellow eyes and long hair. His composure wavered as he blinked repeatedly, then the hunter reminded him what he was doing. Two clicks on his guns released the safeties as he kept them trained. "Long time no see Dante," Trish said, walking around so that the Son of Sparda faces the flaming wall. Dante kept his guns tense, and his trigger fingers tenser as he said not a word. Trish knew better, she had worked with the Hunter and had seen his thoughts, so she understood his silence. "I've been sent to wel----" "Sent?" Dante scoffed, thinking Trish better than to be a mere servant to some other warlord or even Satan himself. "I'd rather you didn't welcome me." Trish shrugged and walked on. She slid her hands across the bike and leaned calmly against it, her eyes piercing into Dante's own. "We think it tradition that we invite the Devil Killer to Hell. Sparda did the same, so it's only natural for you to be welcome too." Unwelcome is more like it, Son of Sparda thought as he began to release his hold on the triggers. Trish shrugged and pushed away from the bike and walked toward the inferno. Dante blinked then dropped his guns, "Wait." The woman stopped, and turned slowly, her yellow eyes as intense as the fires. "Yes, Son of Sparda?" "Why did you betray me?" Inquired Dante. He did not mean to be forward with her, but he need to know, he was somewhat of an investigator matter-of- factly. Trish's expression did not change. She merely cocked her head to regard the Hunter before stepping back into the fire and disappearing. Then, her voice cut through the silence and into Dante's head. "Because I knew you would come." At that instant, the barrier of evil magic began to shrink and die down to reveal an ordinary wooden door with a hotel number on it engraved in gold that read, '705'. Dante holstered his guns and reached into his pocket. He produced a padlock and a long chain. He then walked over to his bike and weaved the chain through the wheels and handlebars, then latched it to the padlock. "To Hell then," Dante repeated remembering his words. "To destiny."
Stay tuned for more. And trust me, there will be action. -Art-