2018 update: More details are changed and updated here, as I've polished the "detective/thriller" tone of this story's crime sub-plot.
I have a tumblr: beesliltales9229
2017: More in-depth demonic activity and violence, some tear-jerking implied violence against victims and the usual brotherly banter. Also, lots of supporting characters...
I am sorry for the poor detective-ish/investigation writing that's part of the le gasp! whole story. Thank you for reading this and commenting! I also updated the look because I managed to figure out how to edit my works here in . I've been an avid user of Archive Of Our Own for a long while, I for got to use FF's system.
Lastly, yes, this is the Classic DMC, not the reboot. That one we're working on separately. If you hate the reboot, it's alright. Let's just peacefully enjoy what we love. /^w^/
Chapter 2: Trouble Brews
Vergil deftly decapitates the Prowler within his Cloaking, ensuring he is invisible, even in the darkest twilight.
But not to her.
The Prowler he has killed was one of the naughtiest, yet he didn't deserve to die. He wanted an outlet, he wanted adventure…
He was young…
And what does an ignorant fool do to what he deems as monsters?
Eliminate them, of course!
The sound and rush of a tall young man suddenly jumping his own house's fence behind her startles her and it's a wonderful thing to feel how a young human can be so innocently breathtaking.
"Hey!" The soft voice of her boyfriend quells the rage inside her heart, for now, and feels his arms around her shoulders. She embraces him back and gets a whiff of his freshly-bathed skin. She sighs in his warmth…
"Let's go. My dad's gone off to work already, so...uh...we have time!"
"Where do you want to go?"
He ponders, his lips pouting, and she thinks he is adorable like this. "How about an early breakfast at Little Italy? They open at around six and they got breakfast specialties there!"
She nods and they go about their way, while Vergil had long disappeared into the darkness…
"You told me you will have exams next week. Will we have to cancel our Valentine's date?"
"No way!" He exclaims, looking very taken aback at the idea that they will not be together a few days from now. "My professor's probably gonna have a date, too. He'll make it easy for us…"
With that thought, her boyfriend smirks, but he ponders yet again. "Although...he did say he's going to set our exams much earlier, 'cause he likes his weekends a lot...which means…"
"What does it entail?" She is actually quite intrigued at their teacher.
"...it means our last exams will be on Monday, before Valentine's Day! Hah!"
"You seem to have a very stern professor."
He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and she finds it very amusing to see his lips beaming. "Nah, he's actually pretty cool and he even criticizes the Tertiary Education System for all its drawbacks. Anyway, he loves weekends. He probably has a date on Sunday, which he seems to be planning to be free of any work, anyway. Probably with the librarian. So…"
"We'll also have our date this Tuesday?"
"And before that," he tightens his hold around her waist and she snuggles close to his shoulder. "We'll have our weekends together."
"But your exam…?"
Again, he shrugs his shoulders and smirks. "Hmph. I'll succeed."
It was her turn to beam up at him. "Yes. I believe it so."
"Oh, right!" He exclaims, remembering something. "That plant you gave me, it's grown a bit! Thanks a lot, by the way!"
Again she beams and she tenderly grasps his hand to hers. "You're welcome."
She already knew he had been taking care of the plant she gave him—is taking care of it. But him letting her know of his kind deeds warms her heart and makes her forget about the eternal winter that will come soon, even if just for a while…
Kathalina had been giggling, squealing and bouncing around her apartment like a lovesick maniac so hard, she had disturbed their boarding house's two week-old new tenant.
She had knocked on her door and had asked if there was something bad happening. The poor younger woman—of college age or less—looked very worried and Kathalina apologized profusely for disturbing her.
"I'm really sorry! I was just really excited about—well, I'm going to have a date this Sunday!"
And the girl's face lights up, dropping the whole 'noisy neighbor' issue. "Oh, me too!"
"I'm so happy!" Kathalina could feel her squealing coming up again, but represses it and offers the girl some late night snacks.
"Oh! Accompany you for snacks? I—I couldn't be such a bother!" She blushes and Kathalina understands. The shy, demure and lonely girl isn't even in school and is working herself to the bone as a waitress to pay for her rent on a shoebox room at the end corner of the boarding house. She has no known friends or family, and the few tenants in the boarding house that are concerned for her are the closest she'll have as both.
"No, you're not. Come on in, it's okay." Kathalina opens the door wider for the girl to come inside her apartment.
"Let me say goodnight to Josh first and tuck him in. I had baby sat him for a while. His parents went to shop in the night markets this afternoon…"
Kathalina nods in understanding, but a smirk crosses her lips. So that's why that little tyke was out of his apartment home earlier...
Coming back a few minutes later, the girl lets her know that she had also called Josh's parents and is in his bed. Again, the girl is reluctant to 'intrude her abode', but Kathalina is insistent.
"Please, come in. I want to spend time with you!" She assures her with all the kindness she can muster in her voice. Tentatively, the girl takes a step forward inside; as Kathalina gently pushes the door to a close, she hears the boarding house's window downstairs suddenly snap shut. Thinking there could be a burglar, Kathalina tells the girl to wait inside after borrowing the spare key for Josh's apartment, while she investigated.
She wasn't the only one who heard the mysterious noise; tenants from the ground level are already out to take a look. There are no prints on the carpeted part of the hallway downstairs, nor any signs of forced entry on the window. The landlady dialed for a police regarding a suspected burglar or squatter, and they expect a cop would be coming in twenty minutes. The boarding house remains alert.
Passing by the same window again, Kathalina sees snowflakes are starting to float down outside. Re-checking Josh in his apartment, she finds him reading his superhero books in his bed, when the phone rings. His parents are fifteen minutes away from the boarding house and will be home soon. With a hug, Kathalina bids goodnight to Josh and ensures all the windows and the door are locked.
When Kathalina comes back inside, she explains the whole thing to the girl and tells her not to worry. The girl merely nods and asks, "Did your Valentine give you that?" She plays with the heart-shaped balloon's string, dreamily preoccupied with the adorable thing. Kathalina smiles and says yes, and goes to her kitchen to procure her homemade biscuits. "Your home is so nice."
"Thanks. I make little DIY's on my spare time. Would you like some garlic soup?"
"Yes please." The girl looked positively happy at the sound of that. Kathalina wondered if there were days the girl ate anything at all. She and the other tenants would sometimes gather on the Dining Hall on Sundays to eat dinner and they have fun doing it. Kathalina hopes the girl isn't refusing the food out of any reasons of shame.
Now seated and comfortable, the girl and Kathalina exchange details of their Valentine's while they sip on soup and eat biscuits. As the girl asked again why she's so excited, Kathalina does her best to objectively indulge her tidbits of Vergil; after listing the top three from a thousand things why Kathalina finds Vergil attractive, she asks the girl of who her date is. The girl is blushing and excited to have met a university student, and how he wants to spend the whole weekends with her.
"He sounds really into you..." Kathalina sighs. In her school years, there was nothing but her studies. Out-of-school parties, secret gigs, even dating, was foreign to her younger self. Because you wanted to leave Mom, you wanted to leave the sad house that was never your home…
Yes, there was that. But now, she's free and an adult, and she would like nothing more than to live it as best as possible.
"Yes...we even met before I went to work." Her face, already a bright strawberry color, blushes further.
"I hope you two stayed out of trouble." Kathalina's tone was stern. "There are Prowlers out there. Not to mention, criminals. I wonder sometimes, if they actually work together to make people's lives miserable…"
Kathalina mused, but the girl didn't continue what she wanted to say. Afraid she sounded like some stern mother hawk, Kathalina corrects it. "Well, I do hope you two stayed out of trouble and didn't bump into anybody! I mean, we're not your parents, but we would still be awfully worried if you went missing."
"I know." She says, her voice very low. There was silence as the girl didn't add anymore to that. Kathalina bites her lip and thinks of anything that could turn this around.
"Where will you be dating? Maybe me and my Valentine will bump into you this Sunday."
That seemed to cheer the girl up, even for a bit. "He says the plaza will be turning into a small amusement area. That's where we'll be."
"I promise not to dampen any romantic plans when we see each other." Kathalina adds with a teasing smile. As a sign of her word, she brings up her pinky finger for the girl's to curl to…
...but she merely looks at it with a puzzling look.
"Oh, it's a pinky swear." Kathalina explains, cheerfully extending her arm towards the girl for her to latch her pinky finger. "I promise not to dampen your Valentine's date, because I know how everyone deserves a good and happy night. Well, a safe, happy night, for everyone."
Kathalina beams at her cheerfully, but the girl merely looks at her pinky finger, her grin slowly disappearing. Kathalina's heart drops. Was there something that she said? That she had done? She didn't want the girl to be sad; she wanted her to feel happy.
"Ann? Anfisa, are you okay?"
Anfisa's gaze turns to the window, where snowflakes softly fall outside. Her eyes are concentrating, yet distant. Even when Kathalina brings her hand to touch the girl's hand to soothe her, the girl remains quiet.
"Ann, did something happen? Please, you can tell me what's bothering you."
"I guess it can't be helped. It just can't be delayed anymore. Even I don't want to."
Kathalina's eyes squint, trying to make sense of what the girl had just said. "I'm sorry?"
"Prowlers aren't bad, they just...they got lost. Like me."
Kathalina's eyes widen, her fingers twitching away from the girl. "...what?"
The shocking sound of her window snapping open and closing just as quickly spooks her, letting out a shriek as the cold wind and snow from outside comes in. Did someone-something just enter her apartment? Or did it just escape—?
With her sad hazel eyes, Anfisa looks up to Kathalina. "My date told me a lot about his teacher. I guess he's not so bad, not unlike the Prowlers I took in…"
The plan involved annihilation. Dante usually suggests these things, but it only becomes a last resort option. With Vergil, however, seething with rage—Dante could only imagine him grinding his teeth in a very cartoonish sense—and probably has an inflated dick for his lovely date this Sunday, annihilation is the only option.
And since he's such a good and generous little brother, Dante obliges. "Just so you know, Morrison's still questioning an insurgent and it's a good thing he's ratting them out. It looks like we've been having competition…"
Dante lets that trail off. Well, actually, he's been having dark competition in Enamel City. And now, they appear to be having a sort of cooperative trade-off if they get rid of the best hunters.
"You scratch my back, I scratch yours." They better make sure Prowler claws won't get them killed off too soon.
Most demon hunters—newbies and veterans alike—converge in big cities to have some kind of unofficial get-together to celebrate big kills; but more often than not, most demon hunters are into dirtier tactics and businesses, including their plan to kill off competition. Yep, screwy pieces of shit, those people are!
Dante, Trish and the rest of them have always gone into more legit, community-based, underground types. It's a good way to boost morale and to simply help another one out, regarding certain creatures that just won't stop terrorizing a small town or family. And also because who in their right mind would go to an illegal one and risk having them know you too well?
Okay, my bad, I did a few months ago, but Morrison and I had perfect excuse to go into one.
If memory serves him right, these 'demon hunters' were engaged with trafficking so many people and creatures, selling them to big shots to do God-knows-what. Dante successfully busted that one down, of course—except for the fact that one of the illegal shipping containers they were supposed to save ended up being thrown by an enormous Gigantipede. Yes, that one was also an illegal creature being trafficked to-
...Hmm, if memory serves him right, the Gigantipede was supposed to become one of the main ingredients for the manufacture of a beauty product.
Of course, Vergil finds out, comes in to 'correct' things and saves the day; he's also vehement in making sure traces of his and Dante's presence are wiped clean from the scene, with Morrison fixing the evidence of a black market trade gone tenfold wrong and a big request to "The Sapients' Rights Organization" to help in rounding up the poor creatures. Gigantipede, included.
As for the missing container that was thrown, estimated to be somewhere in La Piuma's rural area...well, they found the container, but its live contents are still being searched all over the vast woods next to La Piuma. He and Morrison had been checking on the "Rights" Team regarding the police's investigation on the probable contents of the missing container; they're beginning to conclude that a sentient demon was captured among a few Prowler younglings, but it's inconclusive for now to link those younglings with the rabid Creep that's terrorizing La Piuma.
As for the twins, it would appear that, with big brother always looking out for them, Dante's identity and their secret demon-hunting business is secured. But that would be underestimating Dante's skills in building a reputation.
I mean, the big neon sign on my office isn't exactly inconspicuous!
Oh, he's collected them all: Demon Slayer, The Man in Red, The White Devil Who Thwarts Demons…
Bad Luck Harlequin...
Yes, he's aware that one came from Lady.
His bad poker games has practically halved Dante's side of the inheritance, while his least successful demon-hunting gigs has been leaving a trail of property damage, which had recently halved Vergil's side of the inheritance. Yes, this string of bad financial luck on Dante's side is normal, along with bad PR, and normally people had come and gone to his office with death threats (not effective), more poker games (a bit effective) or threats with slandering and publicizing his business (most effective), to which Morrison and Vergil quell with the following assurances:
A.) That their 'clean-up' business will remain out of public eye, especially the more personal ones; B.) That he and Dante will stay within their 'hunting territories' and will not dabble with another hunter's (Dante's got enough of that with Lady), unless collaboration is needed; C.) That any suspicious demon- or creature-fraternizing, trading, unjustifiable killings or any kind of involvement, and/or crime will be reported immediately (Dante's not guaranteeing that most of the time. He needs to act, or risk losing the perpetrator and the victim). D.) And, of course, making sure property damage is minimal as best as possible. The local government and police in Enamel City, that Morrison is both 'friends' with, will cover it with the whole city's taxes. If that's the logic, then technically Dante's still paying Enamel City's government to fix the damages, being a taxpayer and all.
Well, fine then, since Dante is such a good and generous citizen, after all.
Dante can't help being himself; if there's trouble, he has to be there. If another demon hunter is calling for help (with or without compensation), he'll be there. If his brother is telling him that they need to attract these Prowlers and make them follow towards the thick, wooded area situated between La Piuma and into the long-ass freeway bridge towards Fortuna City, Dante will be there!
Never mind property damage, never mind politics; never mind he's risking his identity, his privacy and their business being leaked, his reputation...Dante's a fucking demon hunter, period.
And he knows, deep down, Vergil would want to be free from these regulations and social taboos. Isn't that why he's a professor, a big fucking target and a public figure, who's into helping kids grow up way better than those assholes who want to kill off their competition because they're greedy and twisted? Deep down, he knows Vergil seethes at being limited.
Vergil is quiet on the other line, but he can hear the distinct engine of his favorite vintage car. Dante represses a sputtering laugh. Oh, big bro. You're on your phone while driving? Tsk, tsk. Next step: drinking while driving. Lemme just get him my Jack Daniels…
"They've likely been acting on orders." Vergil finally surmises. Dante scoffs. They've figured that out already.
"Duh, these creep of Prowlers are adolescent. And horny. But they'd still need a kind of Alpha to get them going. The mature ones are safe in their mountain territory. They're staying out of this, unless they want to get wrecked by a younger and more aggressive Prowler-"
"It's not just the Prowlers I'm referring to." Vergil's voice sounds monotonous. His twin is like this when his grey-matter gears are full-on turning.
"You sayin' someone's made this plan, like a head-honcho." Dante's voice is playfully mocking, as if he's insulted. "I mean, why didn't I think of that when we're here with one of their insurgents?"
"Not just from being commanded…like, perhaps…manipulated into it." Vergil's murmur is low and venomous. "Lastly, I'm thinking someone has made an imprint on this Creep."
Then Dante's own gears are suddenly turning. "Enamel City police did confirm that Prowler DNA was found on the missing black market container. Remember that, Verg?"
He hears his twin groan exasperatedly. Oh, he remembers...Dante does his best not to chuckle at his twin.
"I remember."
"It's all still inconclusive, but the fact that the missing container is suddenly too devoid of any trace, except for that one DNA evidence, that it was used means that either they were illegally hauling clean freaks, or the sentient demon has imprinted itself amongst the younglings, and wiped most of their traces clean, and they're pretty good at it." Dante could just imagine it: a disgruntled demon stuck with a bunch of whining, baby creatures with no mother, who were all former captives and lost; and they suddenly got tossed into the wilderness to fend for themselves, after being subjected to God-knows-what by those asshole hunters that took them. "Question now is, why."
Vergil scoffs loudly from the other line, while does his best not to snort in amusement. Angry big bro who's lost his cool, is a very deadly big bro who's lost his cool. "We'll worry about motives later. The fact that these Prowlers aren't just aggressive, they're loyal to the one making the orders! And they know an intimate detail about my date this Sunday...they can be anywhere trying to get to us."
Then he hears from his twin a sound that they only reserve for their mom's gravestone: a sob. Vergil sobs for a few seconds, which to Dante does sound too tragic. "And all I gave her is a balloon, before I left..."
"What?!" Dante is smack-dab, flabbergasted! No wonder he's upset!
He's known about Vergil's little crush to the hot librarian in La Piuma since his orientation in the university. And knowing his twin, Vergil is agonizingly slow in making his intentions known. "Not even a kiss? Come on, Verg, seal the deal with a kiss! Go back—"
"No! I can't risk making them follow me all the way to her boarding house. They weren't there yet when I dropped her to her place. I can't. Too many people will see me, even with a Cloaking…"
Dante shakes his head, disappointed. "And all you left her behind for now is a balloon."
Vergil's groan is long and most likely through gritted teeth. Well, so much for sobbing. Dante does his best not to guffaw at his twin's distress. He truly is concerned about the whole situation, but hearing Vergil's long-ass groan in frustration is funny.
"Please tell me that you and Morrison are at least somewhere discreet and with your protective enchantment, as well. Those Prowlers are looking for us! You can't endanger the turncoat and Morrison just because you can gung-ho your way out!"
Dante represses an annoying sigh from being lectured about protection. He's used protection since he was sixteen, thank you very much!
"We're in our War Bunker. Don't sweat it!" The War Bunker is exactly that-an old war bunker built under Morrison's property, to supposedly hold out the nuclear radiation being dropped by bombs. Now, it can hold out an assortment of hexes, hellion fire and astral espionage.
"Please! Mr. Redgrave, they told me that you have a sibling who works as a teacher in La Piuma!" The old demon hunter—who had willingly come to surrender himself because of overwhelming guilt and disgust from what these demon hunters are doing—was suddenly begging, his desperation and fear is making him cling on his own shoulders. "Please, listen to me, the Alpha-she's highly dangerous, but the hunters who work for her—! They took me in! I was a small-time hunter, and I needed money to keep the house for my son! He couldn't afford to live in a college dorm or even the full tuition payment...oh, God! Please!"
"Just damn spit it out!" Morrison shouted, although it sounded more frustrated than truly angry. "What else are they planning, anyway? And how are they gonna benefit from letting the Prowlers take over La Piuma, and then the rest of Fortuna, huh?"
The old hunter shook in his seat, but he rubs his old face with his weathered hands, as if to wipe away the fear that kept creeping into his features. "The Prowlers...they will feed on everybody! Everybody! Not even the hunters will be spared! But they don't know that! Or rather, they think they can outsmart these creatures. And these things will win. Simple as that!"
"But why? There are actual wild Prowlers who don't even bother human settlements. And now, we're dealing with a bunch of aggressive ones, led by your boss!" Dante had to interject. With his phone now in speakers, Vergil can hear the whole conversation.
"Please, I don't know." He pleaded, as if he was going to be hit again, even though neither Morrison nor Dante had since they took him in the War Bunker. Morrison did shove the old panicky hunter to the sofa, though. Does that count?
"I—I—I was in charge of taking care the new younglings and keeping an eye out for them! I didn't want to engage in—in killing—they killed people, okay! They killed them! And they swear they were gonna get my son if I so much as talk that I work with them and ratted them out!"
"Mr. Halfield?!" Vergil's voice blared through the phone's speakers. "Redgrave, talk to me! Now!"
He puts it back to regular speakers. "Lemme guess, his son—"
"—is my student!" Vergil's voice is cold with panic. Dante's worried, too. Who knew this Alpha has already gotten an upper hand, although it felt too good of a coincidence that their leader would suddenly have a hold on a random college student.
"Vergil, listen to me," Dante's voice is calm and assuring. If there was anything good about being laid-back, it was that it enabled Dante to sound zen. And, of course, his brother needs him, knowing a student—or more—could be saved from this. "We do this plan, right now. I'm getting on my bike and we'll be on the woods under the freeway bridge. This is perfect bait!"
"Yes, it will be. But I need to check on the Halfield residence to make sure his son isn't harmed."
Dante nods and is already going for the door. "Yep, do that." Then he turns to Morrison and Mr. Halfield. "Calm down. I have an, uh, acquaintance who's gonna check on your son."
"We live in Block 12, Piccolo Uovo Houses! Please, my son!" The old hunter is definitely in hysterics and Dante can understand.
"You probably know where that is already, don't you?" Dante's lips quirk at those words as Vergil's antagonized huff is heard. A loud screeching of wheels is also heard from the other line. It looks like Vergil is driving beyond the speed limit.
"Did you put your seatbelt on?" Dante goads through the angry driving Vergil is committing, but his twin doesn't retort back.
But then a distinct roar comes to temporarily deafen Dante's ear. There was a sound of glass shattering and his brother's groaning is the last thing he hears before the line went dead.
Well, shit.
"Morrison, I'll let you know if we, uh, succeed." He says with a nonchalant wave of his hand, a gesture that he's leaving.
"You really think they're going to follow you and your, uh, acquaintance to the forest?" Morrison, as always, is a skeptic. But, as it almost always is the case, his skepticism is pacified in the end. If there was any subtext to why he asks such questions, it's probably a way to goad a challenge and spark amusement in this business.
Dante pulls open the door, a dastardly too-confident smile forms, thinking about the shit they're about to deal. "Like I said, you'll know when we'll let you."
"Your sibling!" Mr. Halfield's panicky voice is—no offense—starting to destroy Dante's ears, and he tries not to roll his eyes. "You need to inform your sibling, Mr. Redgrave! He's no demon hunter and he might be used as blackmail against you—!"
"Look, whatever kind of information your...ex-partners have acquired," Dante interrupts the old hunter, trying to repress his pissed-off tone. Because, really, how ill-informed is this guy? And, in Dante's head, their Alpha may be deliberately withholding information from them. Another asshole…
"I can assure you they know almost next to nothing who my sibling is." And with that, Dante nods at Morrison, who nods knowingly back at him.
With that, Dante gives them a wink of his eye, along with a laid-back grin and leaves the bunker. After he closes the door, Mr. Halfield, however, is still drowning in cold sweat, his eyes wide in fear and looking at Morrison, as if the most ridiculous thing has just happened in front of his eyes. "How is he this calm?"
The plan involved annihilation. This meant there was no guarantee that his car was to survive for this plan to work. Vergil did not, however, anticipate that it was going to be wrecked this early. His mind could only wonder, of all things, how he was to drive for Kathalina on their date this Sunday.
The dry chuckle Vergil lets out grates his throat. I can't believe I'm still worried about that!
The gorgeous, heavily-customized, powder-blue Firearrow coupe had just been totaled from the clawed foot of the Prowler; and it's only a few meters towards the Piccolo Uovo Residence area.
"Nice car." Hissed the playful, buck naked Prowler; standing proud over the hood of Vergil's car. "Too bad you can't drive your date around with this huge dent on it. Not classy."
He grits his teeth as he tastes his wrath boiling inside his throat. How could he have not sensed this amateur coming in?
Re-focus. You can't get angry. It's weakness.
Vergil shakes his head to shake off the rage, putting a hand on the bloodied bruises on his face, which are already healing. Still sprawled on all fours on the cold road, Vergil pretends to double over as he tries to get upright. He feels the Prowler walking casually closer, as anticipated. Let him choke on how proud he is, at first…
"I was told to get you alive," said the Prowler, painfully putting his clawed feet on Vergil's back, pinning him there…for now. "But you will be more or less alive when I present you to Alpha."
Vergil let out a cold snicker. "I plan the same thing."
The only thing the Prowler got as a warning is a blue light bursting from above, before being peppered with a legion of blades! This was enough for Vergil to stagger the Prowler off him and quickly stand up!
To the Prowler's credit, it still manages to laugh at Vergil while it pulled out the blue blades stuck on every body part the blades impaled. But this only harassed Vergil's temper. With a swish of Vergil's coattails, a whipping gale gusts at the wounded Prowler, who had now realized that toying Vergil is a slow, capital punishment.
"So, Alpha was right…you're not just a teacher…"
Vergil harrumphs and he extends his left hand to his side; a bright, dazzling light erupts from the palm of his hand; from it formed Vergil's powerful katana!
The Prowler roared, the wind from its soundwaves bends the minutest particles of the empty, rural road, but it refracts and bends backwards when it reaches Vergil. A different aura surrounds him…
"You got that right!" Vergil proudly asserts. With his right hand, he sweeps his pale hair back to keep it from hanging in front of his eyes. His left hand deftly twirls the long katana out of its long sheath, as the latter disappears into the light, while the long blade glows an eerie, bright blue. He swipes the blade across, cutting the air in half before he deftly points the tip of the katana blade at the Prowler's face.
"And as a teacher, I make sure all lessons will be learned before little delinquents, like you, get your recess…"
"Ann…" Kathalina's voice seems to be failing inside her throat, while other senses feel more acute, including her fear. Her heart beats as she stays frozen at realizing…at realizing something sinister is about to happen.
"Marcelin and I met when he and his classmates were in, what you call, a field trip." Anfisa spoke as if she was being interviewed for a job: matter-of-factly, casually recollecting memories, while ignoring the fact that she is horrifying her neighbor. "He thought I lived in a farmhouse not far from where they're studying potted plants. He must've thought so, because I was wearing a pair of farmer's boots, old dress and an apron. I stole them, because I had no clothes since I was captured. That was two months ago…"
There was a glassy-eyed sadness in her hazel eyes, but she manages a small chuckle. "Hmm…I guess looking like this, so harmless and…unassuming…nobody would think I could do anything. But when they locked me up for weeks while they simulated tests on me, they were expecting a new result, something different…I thought I could escape every time they gave me doses, but I couldn't, no matter how powerful the doses made me feel…"
Kathalina's skin crawls. There had been news of illegal creatures being sold, trafficked and hunted down for the black market…
"Ann…" There were tears on Kathalina's eyes. She honestly didn't know what to feel, but knowing this poor girl had gone through horrific things is too painful.
Yet, Kathalina's mind also races back to the fairy tales she had read in middle school; she had never been read children's books when she was little, so when she was of that age when childish fears are easily shrugged off, analytical thinking dug a hole for the nightmarish tales to be buried six feet down into her subconsciousness…
Now they are bursting from their graves as demons in disguises, creatures pretending, criminals lying, to get their victim to lower their guard, to get them under their spell!
"It's okay." Anfisa whispers, her voice gentle and cracking under her own confused feelings. "I know you're scared. I was scared, at first; because humans and demons are alike in many ways…They more often than not work together…"
Kathalina swallows and her brow furrows, but she doesn't trust her voice to ask what are you? But she remains quiet to listen. Kathalina is trapped to whatever will happen to her; might as well make sure not to anger the girl and risk having to die painfully.
"…I couldn't tell the difference sometimes, especially under forced influence…but when I was finally free, I realized the differences weren't intrinsic with each species. There are demons and humans who are kind…Marcelin Halfield, his classmates, their proctor Mr. Sparda (Kathalina's heart beats faster as she feels a coldness run through her system, making her hair stand up), the farmers, the neighbors here…and of course, the lost babies…"
"Babies?" Kathalina feels too horrified at this point—
Anfisa's lips curl. "My Prowlers."
The blood that ran through her veins grows colder and colder, that Kathalina is sure she'll die just sitting here and listening to this horror story.
She continues. "They were crying and helpless. They…needed me. So I helped them. Eventually, though, we realized we were being tracked. We didn't know if they were the same hunters who took us into their chambers. So I made sure our trail was erased. I was relieved to find that they were just police. But one of them, he was that hunter…I saw him kill a lot of demons, even the ones who were captured…"
Anfisa's breathing becomes ragged and her expression darkens. Kathalina's eyes widen, feeling more intensely horrified of Anfisa's indignation. "Didn't he see? Or did he?! Did it matter, at all, to him?!"
Her breathing is deeper, but remains ragged.
"Why?! Why did he kill the ones who were imprisoned? They hadn't seen the outside for years! They've been influenced! There were even humans inside! Transformed beyond recognition! How could he?!"
Anfisa bangs her fists on the table, sending several dinnerwares flying off its surface and making Kathalina jump. "I'm…I'm sorry…"
Then, there are tears on her eyes. Anfisa gives in to the anguish and sorrow as her shoulder sags. "…then when the other opened the other container, he knew something was dangerous inside it. But he still opened it! He still opened it to kill the poor thing inside!"
The anguished scream that tore from Anfisa's mouth is long, sorrowful and furious!
"Ann!" Kathalina stands up and presses her hands on the girl's shoulders. She felt compelled to do something. If calming her down would do something good, then she'd take it, instead of letting this poor girl shriek in the agony of recalling those...those horrible things. "I—I'm sorry. What you've done to save the babies and yourself, they're all good things! You survived! But this…"
Anfisa's hazel eyes are wide and clouded with pain, her lips shaking at the flood of tears that will come, but she remains quiet.
"Ann, making these Prowlers hurt people isn't right. You're doing what they're doing, what they've done to you and to the other poor creatures they've captured! I know you want to avenge the ones who were killed, but wouldn't it be better to give them justice?"
Anfisa's lips purse, although out of guilt or disagreement, Kathalina couldn't tell. She continues to reprimand, anyway. "They deserve justice…and peace. You need to let the world know about what happened so we can help them and prevent others from suffering, too, not…this."
Anfisa is silent, but her tears are now dry. On her knees, Kathalina—against all survival instincts to run and get away from this dangerous creature—places her palm on the girl's face. Kathalina can only hope. "Marcelin deserves the truth. The same thing you told me."
"I know." Anfisa says, although no known emotion is registered through the words. "He will know. On Valentine's."
Kathalina's face contorts into desperation, her own tears spilling. "Please…Ann…Anfisa…Stop this..."
"You know, I didn't want to harm Mr. Sparda, but I think he's been keeping something from you, too."
Once again, Kathalina's hand twitches away from her cheek. But Anfisa's hand shoots up to grab it back and replaces it back to her face. "I won't kill him. I promise."
Kathalina didn't know if what tore out of her mouth was a scream or a squeak, but it could've been both. Her whole body shivers as Anfisa's hold is firm, unmoving, yet she does not hurt her whatsoever.
"Anfisa! Stop!"
Anfisa slowly stands up from the chair, still holding her hand to her cheek. This time, Kathalina was sure about her windows opening by themselves, because they remained open as the winter wind gusts inside her apartment room!
She shivers violently as Anfisa stands tall over her, her long dark hair whipping along with the snowflakes that entered her home.
"Don't worry." Her voice remains too gentle for comfort. Then quiet footsteps come closer to the two women. Kathalina can't see them, but she knew what they are. She can feel their breaths against her face as her eyes and mouth widen in horror. "We'll still have a Happy Valentine's Day."
Kathalina knew their hands would be all over her—
—instead a dazzling blue light interrupts the whole horrifying situation, and—as strange as it is—she felt comforted by the mysterious light!
The heart-shaped balloon floats haltingly towards Kathalina, but a Prowler swipes angrily at it. The claw marks appear against its plastic-red surface, ripping it open and revealing more blue light, more blinding now that it first appeared.
"NO!" Anfisa roared angrily and the Prowlers, invisible at first, reveal themselves with a fury!
To Kathalina, they look to be almost human, except for their retracting, long claws, highly-veined skin and long hair (or fur) that reaches the floor. All four Prowlers are nude and radiated heat from their skin, making them invincible against the winter they had been causing.
A female Prowler emits a high-pitched braying sound—
"NYAAAAAAHHHHHG!"
—causing Kathalina to cover her ears—as it locks its fierce eyes on the balloon, floating proudly against the strong wind; it lunges in lightning speed at the unassuming object, aiming her claws at the center of it.
As she spears through, however, another blinding flash of blue emits from its inflated form, but this time, three swords gouge themselves at the balloon's assailant, painfully staggering the creature back! The three other Prowlers lunge as well, but this time the balloon has anticipated this; it spins on its spot and a dozen or more of the same bright swords appear to surround the balloon!
Still spinning on its spot, the swords successfully pierce its four opponents, impaling them on the apartment floor or against the walls. They writhe in pain and in anger, flailing their limbs and their heads futilely against the solid corners and surfaces they are stuck to!
With Anfisa simply glaring at the balloon, Kathalina is simply horrified at how the impaled Prowlers continue to writhe and convulse against the walls and floor, bleeding profusely and hissing in frustration.
"It's enchanted!" One of the Prowlers exclaimed, which may mean they've figured out why the balloon is sentient and hostile against them. To Kathalina, that's all the explanation she needs regarding the balloon's supernatural nature.
As if to answer to that, the balloon spins once and launches one blade towards Anfisa!
Kathalina would've still mourned, knowing the girl she had just had garlic soup with would suddenly drop dead from a hurled blade…
But Anfisa continues to shock her when she lifted her other hand to gesture a halting sign, her palm exposed! The blade that was meant to pierce her head stops midair in front of her palm. The blade quivers on its spot, threatening to continue what it intends to do, but unfortunately an invisible force disintegrates the blade until it vanishes into thin air!
Taking this slim opportunity, Kathalina stands up from where she knelt and tried to go to the open window, anything to get away from this!
But Anfisa's other hand—the one that presses hers to the girl's cheek—claws desperately for her to reel her back. Kathalina stumbles as she does her best to escape, while all four Prowlers threaten to free themselves from the impaling blades they are pinned by.
The balloon continues to rain upon them blades summoned from thin air, ensuring they're not released from the floor and the walls. The balloon, however, is unsuccessful in getting its swords to impale Anfisa, as each launching blade stops and quivers in midair, before disappearing in broken, phantom pieces.
"No! You need to know! You need to come with me!" Anfisa is shrieking, yet Kathalina wonders why none of the neighbors inside the boarding house have been roused and banging on her door, to try to stop this madness! But did she have to wonder? Kathalina had been trapped ever since she let Anfisa inside—
Oh God! I spoke about Vergil! I spoke about him to her!
"Let. Me. GO!" Kathalina knew how futile this is, but her window remains open and the outside remains calm, and quiet—!
Anfisa nimbly wraps her arms around Kathalina's torso and begins to carry her. Kathalina fights back by kicking backwards, trying to trip the girl from behind. Her free elbows flail back to hit Anfisa's face while she aggressively wriggles herself free from her grasp. They ended up falling on the floor, with Anfisa desperately pinning her legs down so she wouldn't escape.
"Vergil won't save you!" Anfisa's shrilly and angry voice only infuriates Kathalina's need to escape, crawling if needed. "You're coming with me!"
And with all her might, Kathalina lifts the same hand she had placed on Anfisa's cheek and makes painful contact across her face! The smack was strong enough to make her head going into another direction, as her body reels from being hit.
Standing immediately, Kathalina runs the remaining gap towards her window to escape—
—only for the female Prowler to hurl herself from the wall and bury her underneath its heavy, humanoid body!
Her shoulder bangs against the windowsill, collides headfirst against the wall, before she finally feels her head violently bouncing against the hardwood floor. The explosive pain that erupts from the back of her head is telling of her critical condition. She moans from the pain and from the Prowler finally getting off her, feeling the air coming back into her lungs after the weight had been lifted.
The whole room blurs, rocking back and forth as fresh tears prick at the corner of her eyes. Despite this, she can see the light of the lampposts outside, softly illuminating the quiet February winter, bringing with it soft, floating snowflakes, while her whole apartment begins to darken around her, engulfing her, suffocating her into an unknown oblivion.
Vergil has no time to deal with this, so he plans to impale this Prowler long enough to teleport to the Halfield house!
So when the creature did lunge at him, Vergil immediately teleports from his spot; replacing him was a legion more of the summoned swords that shoot up to pierce themselves on the foolish Prowler!
The howl is evident that the swords have impaled the Prowler once again, but it doesn't stop there; just as the Prowler tries to escape the multitude of blades that continue to stab him, dark blue shadows engulf him and the blades, teleporting them from the spot!
Twenty feet above the wrecked car, the dark blue, shadowy orb reappears!
It releases the onslaught of blades that continue to skewer through the Prowler's body, as he falls back to the ground! With a painful crunch, his body is crucified to the ground, pinning him face down, with the legion of blades continuing to rain down upon him to keep him there!
From above, the blue shadows dance and reform, revealing Vergil and his katana, launching himself down to make the final strike!
With Vergil's ferocious cry, his katana—Yamato—gouge the Prowler's head, with his blade sinking two feet deep into the ground!
"You're not going anywhere!" Vergil rages as the Prowler continues to writhe aggressively against the numerous swords that stills him to the ground. Knowing the creature's regenerative abilities is as rapid as its behavior for destruction, Vergil huffs an irritated breath and summons a blade, directly pointing it to the creature's head—
"Professor?!" Came a very familiar voice.
Vergil's blood runs cold. He whirls around to come face-to-face with a familiar brunet-haired student, Marcelin Halfield, running towards him!
And he's not alone. Vergil's eyes squints at Marcelin's companion, who innocently sips his iced coffee, watching the commotion with bored disinterest.
There are limitations to how Cloaking works. Humans shouldn't be underestimated for their vulnerable organic makeup, as their senses are just as sharp and their will to enact whatever they set their mind to should be something to be wary of. With that said, however, with the exception of naturally-born psychics or seers, if a human really did want to look for supernatural—or sometimes, for either entertainment value or out of curiosity, a demonic—activity, they'd have to be prepared and knowledgeable, they'd have intentions for wanting to see these beings, unless the beings aren't Cloaking themselves. Otherwise, a hapless human who isn't really looking into whatever this is, a human shouldn't be seeing Vergil gutting a creature with his blades, whilst his wrecked Firearrow coupe sits in the middle of the road.
Vergil had almost exclaimed how he could see this, but stops and concentrates on impaling the Prowler's shoulder instead with another summoned blade. The visceral sound of a blade puncturing flesh bristle Marcelin, but that doesn't deter him from approaching.
"Not any closer!" Vergil warns and Marcelin stops mid-step, his expression fearful. Vergil then turns to his companion. "And you! Don't you dare…!"
"Professor, chill! He's my neighbor here! Please! Stop doing—whatever this is!"
And something clicks in Vergil's head. But there's no time for that now…
Quicker than an eye blinking, Vergil sprints toward his student, wraps his arms around him and they disappear within the swirling fog of blue.
Marcelin's companion slurps the final contents of his iced coffee as he approaches the Prowler. "Damn…" He mutters nonchalantly and tosses the empty cup somewhere.
The Prowler growled angrily. "Get me outta here and let's go!"
They reappear inside the Halfield's residence, in its house's small, main hallway. Marcelin stumbles backwards, trying his best to get away from his teacher as much as possible. Vergil, however, stoically stands, blocking the front door with his hand clasped on a very long sheathed sword.
"S-s-stay back!" Marcelin's panic puts him into the corner of the hallway, one hand outstretched as his only way of defending himself. "My dad's a hunter! He'll—He'll—"
"So am I…secretly, of course." Vergil announces calmly, like claiming how they need an umbrella on a rainy day. "Your father is, unfortunately, in league with a questionable group of hunters, who are partnered with these Creep of very aggressive Prowlers, led by someone who wants my head on a platter, or so my associates had confirmed they have the ability to do so, so far. Prowlers usually keep to themselves and come out on Spring and Summer. This Creep, however, wants to suck every bit of warmth this place has, before moving into major cities to absorb more heat, until winter becomes a permanent fixture. Kind of like the White Witch of Narnia."
Despite his fear, Marcelin's eyes blink in confusion, shaking his head at every word Vergil is telling him. His mouth manages to form words, however, at the mention of his father. "My dad…he was speaking to a bunch of people a few weeks ago…I don't know who they are and I know they aren't locals, at least here in La Piuma…"
Vergil remains quiet as his jaw tightens, his eyes squinting at Marcelin, then around the whole interior of the house. His gaze remains much more fixed on a wall, to his right. Marcelin is confused, seeing as it looks ridiculous looking at his professor, who's looking at a wall. But he follows his gaze and realizes that he seems to be looking at another part of the house, its eastern side…
"That's the kitchen, uh, sir." Marcelin manages to say despite his quaking, frightened self. He figured his professor may have X-ray vision and is looking beyond the wall. "It's locked, always. The backdoor, I mean."
"I hope it was when you snuck out with your girlfriend this morning." Vergil's tone is pointedly stern. "Wouldn't want any intruders inside."
Marcelin scoffs at being reprimanded, but it had no bite to it as he continues to shake in the corner. "Come on, professor! The only real trouble I'm really in right now, is realizing my teacher's a hunter! And probably not human!"
Vergil remains stoic and calm, but the danger of having this house surrounded in seconds is making him more at edge.
It's foolish to come here, further putting this boy in danger and himself as bait, yet the urgent need to finally put the nails upon this coffin is important in finding the answers.
This person wants me and my brother dead, but they needed time...and resources to do so, and they seem willing to drown this town in winter. They will likely move forward in doing the same to other towns and cities, confirming their very extreme nature. Furthermore, this person was also able to grow these Prowlers in a matter of weeks, if they are the same group of missing younglings from the black market. They managed to befriend my student, as well, effectively getting closer…They know who they're looking for and knew who to be connected with.
"This new friend of yours," Vergil suddenly starts, which did make Marcelin jump from his spot. "When did you meet? And where? How intimately did you divulge personal information?"
Marcelin's eyes squint in confusion, but he searches the ground as if the answers are there. "Uh…My girlfriend introduced him to me, just a few days ago. Says he's from Fortuna Island, but he just moved here, on the small apartment complex a few blocks from this neighborhood. He and my girlfriend work together in a diner. She's a waitress."
Vergil heaves a long sigh of frustration. He has no evidence, only a hypothesis that the Prowlers have befriended his student to get some information about Vergil, or about his brother. Marcelin could already be dating one of the Prowlers, but…
No! If his girlfriend is a Prowler, wouldn't Vergil have already sensed her true nature?
"Who else is your girlfriend acquainted with? Did she introduce anyone? Does she know about these Prowlers?"
Marcelin shakes his head profusely. "She's actually very shy. She'd only introduce me to the only one she's friends with. She also doesn't have any immediate family…" Then Marcelin becomes quiet, his mouth slacking open. "My dad only met her once. I thought he was overreacting when he met her…dad was so jumpy and nervous around her, but he and Ann had a private talking-through about the two of us hanging out and dating. After that, she insists not bothering to come inside the house again. But she did give me one little gift—"
Vergil's eyes widen. He crosses the distance between him and his student, and shakes his shoulders. "What sort of gift did she give you? And when and where did you meet her?"
Marcelin's eyes were already very wide, but it becomes moist in tears. He couldn't speak, but he keeps shaking his head.
"Marcelin! Focus!"
It was only after that last word did Marcelin push his teacher away to run upstairs to his room. Following suit, Vergil watches the young man practically force his way inside his own bedroom; panting, Marcelin pulls open his desk's drawer and rummages inside, until he procures something that makes Vergil's own blood run cold.
"Here." Marcelin stretches out his arm to present the object on his hand for Vergil to hold. When he found the will to lift his hand to take the object, Vergil knew he had endangered their lives when he failed the black market mission with Dante and when they stepped foot on that field trip before Christmas vacation.
Vergil's lips shake before he could mutter the words with fear. "It was my fault..."
Marcelin's small gasp is immediately replaced with another shake of his head. "No. I met her there. I thought she was a farmer's daughter, or something. I didn't know. You didn't know."
Vergil's brows furrow and close his eyes. His students were there, the Biology teacher was there, the bus drivers, botanists, guards…Kathalina was there—
"Kathalina!"
And just like that, Vergil doubles over; an indescribable pain suddenly pierces his heart, twisting each of the nerves that keep it together. His lungs are suddenly filled with fire, making him choke and cough violently!
"Professor!" Marcelin immediately goes to his teacher's side, trying to support him long enough to walk him to a chair. But Vergil's weight and size compliments the agony that threatens to make both of them fall.
Still clutching the object, Vergil's body gives in to the pain and kneels to the floor, coughing nothing but air, his body heaving to defend itself from a pain that's making Vergil grit his teeth! He pushes his student away from him, fearing he might accidentally hit him, but in the process, the object falls from his hand and it crashes on the floor!
Marcelin stands, silent and shocked as he watches in fear and despair at his university teacher, on all fours on his bedroom, his throat and body hacking and convulsing at this mysterious pain he suddenly has!
He can see that Vergil's skin has turned a bluer, paler complexion, especially when he turns up to look at his student. His face has turned shades of blue and purple, translucent to reveal sickly veins; his eyes water and swell, and when he opens his mouth, his voice is hoarse and dry.
"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…Kathalina—!" Vergil, despite clutching his neck and coughing profusely, manages to lift his hand and touch something in thin air!
"What about her, teach? What happened to Ms. Lombardo?" Marcelin kneels next to his teacher, his eyes focused, trying to glean any useful information from this sudden delirium his professor is having.
"…forgive me…the balloon…"
Marcelin can only shake his head at the confoundedness of what he just said. But his gaze travels lower and unto the floor, where the smashed object is.
Anfisa had given him an adorable little Mitis Bloom; native in humid to continental climates and can be found in Fortuna's forest, it is one of the hardiest plants that can withstand winter. Coming mostly in vibrant reds and deeper shades of violet, it had grown considerably since December, but still compact enough to be brought with just one hand. Marcelin had made sure to water it once a week; it was out of its drawer before Marcelin leaves to school, to get its needed sunlight, and back inside it when he returns, to ensure it doesn't get frozen during its off-season.
A question now floats around Marcelin's mind: Was it cursed?
Marcelin holds his teacher's shoulders and does his best to pull him up. "C'mon, sir. You can use the bed—Aaarrgh!"
Looking up to see the window of his bedroom was a big mistake. But how did he not even see the moving shadows of five Prowlers leering at them from the outside, their teeth wide and sharp, their eyes glowing, their breaths puffing against the window glass and their nude, strong bodies mocking them?
Perhaps because he was too worried for his professor, who is still coughing and unable to stand on his own.
Marcelin could only drag his professor low into the floor, but that wouldn't really stop the Prowlers from breaking into the room. Marcelin's breath hitches as he recognizes his coffee-drinking companion from earlier, pressed against the glass and huffing puffs of breath, his eyes like a predator impatiently peering into its prey.
Apologies for the cliffhanger! This chapter has gone on long enough, so I needed to cut it.
If anybody feels that Vergil is out of character, lemme know so I can improve!
I truly commend Classic Vergil fan-fic writers, of every genre you put him into. He's such a stern character that didn't get enough game story, but hey, that's what fanfiction is for, right?
Also, I apologize for the whole world-building thing with Fortuna and Enamel City, etc., and regarding how their secret demon-hunting business even works. It isn't the main focal point, but I've spent a lot of time on it because I feel that demon-hunting in Dante's world/DMC in general appears to be a very unappealing job that seems to connote taboos or something, so I wanted to flesh out the twins' emotions about demon hunting.
And if anyone feels like negatively saying about the poorly written detective-thriller-vibe from both Vergil and Dante, yes, I abhor myself for even trying. I'll be ranting about that in my heart's content on my blog, where I do want to critique myself. Also, will probs post some sources about how to write thrillers (oh boy, it's a doozy!)
Lastly, if there is anything I don't have any regrets writing, it's Dante \\^O^\\! Whereas Vergil was difficult, Dante flowed easier. Having four installments about him/half being his story is definitely very easy for Dante fanfic writers