Summary: When Alyson went to work, everything was normal, when her life was treatened she was saved by the famous Devil hunter, Dante. But with no way to pay his out ragious price, he took her soul, and told her she will have to work off her debt. By doing this she must do as he says and follow his intrustions very well. Will Alyson get her soul back.

There is some Dante OCC'ness in here, because it is impossible to know exactly how the creators want him to act.

A/N: I do not own Devil May Cry, or any plot events that I may or may not use in any of my publishes on this site, this all belongs to CAPCON.

Chapter 2

I watched all three bodies hit the asphalt.

The wave of emotions flooded my mind.

Terror.

Happiness.

Fear.

Joy.

Confusion.

But in all the chaos in my brain, I managed to hold it together.

The man in red didn't seem to realize I was there or care for that matter, and the plan of escaping formed in my mind. Kissing his guns, and placing them back on his persons, he walked up to the black man first and kicked his leg. To my guess, making sure he was dead.

When he seemed satisfied that the dead man was not going to move, and indeed dead; he began to vandalize his pockets.

I looked to my bike and then at my leg. Thankfully Scary dude had grabbed my right foot instead of my left, so I had a chance to get away.

I glanced back to the man, who was shoving some items into his pocket on the red trench coat he was wearing.

Chills ran up my spine as goose bumps covered my naked arms; the wind was picking up. The smell of rain was in the air, and the air became dense and heavy as fog began to fall upon the city. Patting my pocket for the key, making sure it was there; I army crawled toward my awaiting bike.

The sound of my jeans scraping against the concrete, rang loud in the heavy silence. Trying to keep my breathing even was hard, since blood keep trickling down my throat making me want to cough, and I knew that one or several of my ribs were between broken and fractured. Low grunts would escape every time I would pull myself forward, the pain was getting too me. The corner of my vision was black; telling me I was on the verge of passing out soon. My heart beat raced, tunnel vision was something I didn't need at the moment of my escape.

But I wanted to get the hell out of there, I just wanted to go home and pretend this never happened. To just lay down and sleep, and wake back up to it all being just a horrible dream.

Thunder cracked in the middle of the dark sky, and the rain pored down on me. My hope was fading, if I were to go down in the rain, I would never get back up. And I would never wake up, but my choices were: stick around and see what then man had in stored for me, and possibly being killed or eaten alive, or take my chances with the bike in the poring down rain. Either way I was.. well fucked.

The thought of being eaten alive didn't appeal to me so, death by bike was -to me- the easier way to go.

In the middle of my thoughts I had reached my bike, well my forehead did. Joy sparking in my chest; I was now faced with the challenge of trying to get on my bike without being noticed was going to be hard, since I could barely pull myself over to my bike without almost passing out.

I averted my gaze back to the man, only to find he… wasn't there. All three bodies were alone; no guy with silver hair rummaging through their pockets. Fear started crawling up my body. It quivered, knowing what happens when I turn back around. I've seen it in scary movies hundreds of times, the bad guy is going to be right behind me.

"Well I'll say, you haven't been having the luckiest night, now have you?" Just as I predicted.

I turned my head slowly, my hair fell from my shoulder to my back, then my chin, my forehead and nose, and last my eyes meet his blue orbs.

I was shaking now, he was towering over me, the only thing between us was my bike and helmet. The sword that I had seen earlier, was now huge; and how he carried it was beyond me. Both guns that he had killed the three men with; were strapped on his hips, ivory clashing with his black jeans that hugged his hips. The black shirt he wore, had the small logo of 'underarmor' on the neck sticking to his chest, accenting all of his muscle. And the red trench coat and black fingerless gloves, made him look like a mercenary.

"P-p-pleassse, please don't kill me, I swear I wont talk! No one has to know you killed those guys, please just don't kill me." I cried out. Snobs raked my body, as the tears spilled over my eyelids. I clasped on the pavement, I couldn't hold my body up anymore, the emotion turmoil I was experiencing took me over. My adrenaline rush was gone; leaving me tired and drained.

The pain was radiating through out my body, my tunnel vision was getting worse, as my energy slipped away. My eyes were starting to droop on me; all I wanted to do was just sleep away everything that just happened. I wanted this horrible night to just end.

And just before I passed out, the man pushed me on to my back staring at my face, a smirk still plastered on his white face.

R&R

Tell me what you think.

-Ethin