What follows is the Halloween fic I wrote and published on Tumblr, but forgot to post here.
Title: Darkness Falls
Author: spookygillovnyfangirl
Rating: T for some cuss words and violence
Characters: Dante Vale, Zhalia Moon, OC
Author's note: It's a bit late (late? Haha, more like a century late) to Halloween, I know, but at least it's finally here. Thank you all for the support and a big hug to reverienne for being a sweetheart to me ^-^
I must confess I'm not entirely content with this story though; Dante seems a bit OOC and I think the prose could use some improvement. Anyway, I'd appreciate and be forever thankful if you tell me what you think of it.
And now, on with the story!
Darkness falls
Zhalia looked below at the pendant in her hands. The necklace cord was made of silver, pale as the moonlight, and felt oddly heavy against her skin.
Her thumb grazed the black jewel hanging on it and a shiver ran through her.
"If I do this, do you promise me you won't hurt them? Him?"
The woman in front of her sighed. "Yes, I promise."
"How can I now if you're telling the truth?"
Escura crossed her arms and leaned back on the wall, smiling.
"I'm a Goddess, Zhalia. I never break my promises." She arched an eyebrow, as if mocking her. "Besides, this is a blood oath. As soon as you agree, no one, not even me, can break the spell."
"Give her back to me, Escura."
The woman grinned wickedly.
A perfectly manicured finger circled the edge of the glass and her teeth bit her bottom lip, white burying in pink flesh.
"And why would I do that?"
"Because if you don't, I'll destroy you."
At that, she looked up at Dante. Her hazel depths gazed at his with the intensity of a storm, and the silence between them crackled and hissed like one was sure to come.
Finally, she spoke.
"You can't do that." Her voice was firm and cold, oddly familiar to Dante and yet, totally different from the one he knew.
"Oh, I can't?" He leaned his tall and dark frame on the chair, his arms caging Escura. "You took her away from me, you stole her body and locked her soul away!"
Escura kept silent and simply looked at him, the perfect impression of boredom gracing her face.
Dante seemed to turn even more furious at her apparent lack of reaction. His hands moved from the chair arms to her shoulders and squeezed. Hard.
Escura grimaced. "Ouch, calm down. You're going to leave a mark on my new body."
Dante's eyes darkened.
"It's not your body. It's Zhalia's." His hands tightened their grip on her flesh but he didn't seem to notice it.
Escura could sense why. An aura as dark as a black hole surrounded him, strong enough to make her flinch. He was feeding sorely on desperation and panic; his mind incapable of rational thought besides the frantic Save Zhalia, save Zhalia chant. It was so strong she could almost hear it out loud.
Escura thought that if she were capable of feeling empathy towards humans, she would feel sorry for the man in front of her.
Instead, she willed her body to relax under his bruising touch.
"Exactly, this is Zhalia's body. Or at least, it was." She placed her hands over his and looked into Dante's eyes, trying to appear fragile. "Think about it. You're not hurting me, you're hurting her."
She saw his Adam's apple bob up and down. Wide amber eyes roamed her face, then his hands, then her face again.
"You're right." He exhaled a ragged breath. "God, what am I doing?"
The hands on her shoulders quickly disappeared, as if her skin had scalded them. Dante walked away from her, his face pale with shock.
"This is all my fault. It's all my fault and now she's gone." He tugged at his hair, waves of pain travelling through his scalp. Pain was his only friend right now, Escura noted. Pain kept him focused.
The woman sighed.
"I believe you are acting on your impulses. Even you can let control slip through your fingers in situations of high stress. You're human, Dante." Her nose crinkled in disgust at the word, but she continued nonetheless, "As stupid as it may seem, it is only natural for you to feel."
"And Zhalia? Did she feel too?" he whispered, voice broken and eyes glazed.
"Feel what?"
"Pain."
"Will it hurt?" Zhalia asked, voice trembling.
Escura shrugged. "I don't think so, no. You'll just feel a slight pulling." She narrowed her eyes then, and fear claimed Zhalia. In that moment, Escura looked just like the Death goddess she proclaimed herself to be. "Don't fight it," she ordered.
"And then it's over? Just like that?"
"Depends on what your definition of 'over' is. You won't cease to exist. You are energy, and energy cannot be neither created nor destroyed, just transformed." Escura paused for a second, before turning to Zhalia with a creepy smile on her face. "However, don't think you'll be sent to Paradise to spend the rest of eternity sunbathing either."
Zhalia could feel her knees trembling.
"First your soul has to be punished for the sins you committed", Escura continued, her voice flat and distant, as if she were simply negotiating a business deal and not a person's fate, "You'll spend some time in Purgatory until your soul is clean. And then... Who knows? Maybe you'll end up reincarnating, or turning into a Grim Reaper, harvesting souls."
Zhalia closed her eyes. Panic was beginning to set in and a wave of nausea hit her.
"I committed a lot of sins, Escura." I'm screwed, she thought.
"Well, I guess that means your penance will be longer. Everyone gets what they deserve in the end."
Escura shook her head.
"No, she did not feel any pain."
Dante closed his eyes and nodded to himself in relief.
"It was quick. Just a drop of her blood mixed with mine, a couple of words and a handshake. And then... She was gone."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"I'm ready. What do you want me to do?"
Escura took Zhalia's hands in her own, her digits drawing invisible lines on the young woman's skin, as if soothing her. "Close your eyes and focus. Surrender. Can you feel me? My presence?"
Zhalia closed her eyelids and exhaled.
Time stopped.
She did not know how long it took. It could have been an eternity, or just a second. Escura's magic surrounded her, as also a feeling of utter peace and contentment.
Was this what death really felt like? Could something so scary feel so good, so liberating?
She felt something cold brush against her arms, soft as a lover's kiss. It was light at first, but slowly rose in intensity, begging her to let it in. Unable to resist her curiosity, Zhalia took a peek.
What appeared to be some sort of dark mist surrounded them both. It seemed to emanate from Escura's body and was slowly reaching out to Zhalia, greedy and hungry for her.
Strangely, she did not feel any fear. On the contrary, this felt... natural. As if all her life had leading up to this moment.
"That's it," Escura whispered from somewhere far away. Her voice was like honey, or a nice cup of tea on a rainy afternoon. It comforted Zhalia, promised that everything would be alright.
"Let it wash over your body, let the darkness lull you to sleep. Be still, human. Soon, it'll all be over. And they'll be safe."
Yes, it was finally over.
And just like that, Zhalia Moon was gone.
His hand shook as it brushed against his face.
"Where is she now?"
Escura thought of giving him the whole "she's in a good place now" speech, but as if capable of reading her mind, he glared at her in a way that told that he would accept nothing but the truth.
She sighed, sinking her nails in the cushioned wood of the chair. Something told her this was not going to be pretty.
"She's in Purgatory."
Dante froze.
"Purgatory?" he repeated dumbly.
"Yes, Purgatory" Escura bit out through clenched teeth. "She's being punished for what she did in her life."
"Oh." If possible, his face turned paler. "Shit."
"Yes, yes, I know it's quite tragic and all, but you're alive, Dante." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, taking deep breaths in order to calm down. "Isn't that enough?"
Silence fell.
Dante stared in astonishment at her, arms hanging helplessly by his sides.
"Enough?" he whispered.
Escura rolled her eyes and sighed for what seemed the hundredth time. Great, just great. She was stuck here with Dante "I'm so human and needy" Vale, and her guts told her this was not going to end anytime soon. In fact, if his red eyes and clenched fists were any indicator, this was just beginning.
Escura began to seriously ponder if this new body of hers was worth the trouble.
"My best friend and partner gave up on her life because she saw you." He pointed a finger at her, glaring. "She looked into you and saw the sick monster you are! She saw what you were planning to do with us, so she sacrificed herself!"
He was shouting like his life depended on it by now but he pressed on, as if he believed that by screaming loud enough he would bring Zhalia back.
Escura placed her chin on her hand and tilted her head. Her eyes zeroed on his throat, on the taut muscles, and a dreamy sigh escaped her lips.
His throat was just begging to be slashed. She could almost feel it, the cold blade under her skin, how she would sneak up behind him and draw a line on his throat. The blood would be the colour of his head, red and beautiful and warm. The rush of adrenaline would spread like fire through her veins, more addictive than anything else in this universe.
And of course, he would shut the fuck up. That was a bonus, too.
Instead, she sat and waited while he shouted and cursed her, blaming his loss on her. Funny how a few minutes ago he was mumbling like a maniac to himself, saying it was his entire fault. Humans and their emotions... They were so weak and pathetic.
Meanwhile, in a dimension far away from ours, Zhalia Moon learned what Hell was like.
Her throat ached and burned from all the screeching, crying and screaming, but she continued.
"Goddammit Dante, I'm here! I'm here! Why can't you see me?"
For the thousandth time, she tried to touch the man in front of her, the man whose beautiful face was now tainted by anguish, but her hands went right through him.
Tears ran unbidden down her face. Not for her and the life, the body she had lost, but for Dante.
Dante, who had lost so much in his own life, and now had lost her too. Dante, who had saved her from herself countless times. Dante, who had given her his heart without asking for anything in return.
Zhalia's hand landed on his cheek, but all she felt was cold air.
"I'm here, Dante..."