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The Demons Inside.

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Three.

The pan on the stove sizzled angrily as Jazmin splashed a bit of oil on the hot surface. She absently stirred the vegetables and took her phone from her shoulder.

"I don't know Beth, Fake 911 phone call? That's pretty illegal."

"It wasn't a fake call…I called his car and it really was an emergency. The ice cream was melting."

Jazmin rolled her eyes and checked on the food in the oven. "I'm sure Frank would have enjoyed your surprise either way." Beth laughed on the other end of the line.

"Oh-ho, he did. So how was your dinner with Nathen? Romantic? Steamy? I want the details."

"Eh, it was nice."

"Just nice?"

"Well, like, there were flowers and candles. I just didn't feel… that fire, that passion you always talk about. That wild love that makes you do stupid things and they are all you think about."

"Is Nathen a little lacking in the love department?"

"No," Jazmin sighed and pulled the things from the oven and the pan off the stove. "He's just fine, and he's sweet and thoughtful but just 'there'. When I'm not around him I don't long to be with him again."

"Jazzy, you're over thinking it. If Nathen treats you right and makes you happy, keep him around. If that's not what you want, leave. But I think it's a good thing that you don't have my kind of relationships, plural being the point."

Jazmin nodded as she put food on a plate. It was true; Nathen was good to her and in truth Jazmin couldn't think about leaving him. Literally, it was like that direction was inconceivable. She sighed again and walked into her living room, sitting on the couch unceremoniously.

"You're probably right, Beth."

"Of course I am!"

Jazmin laughed. "Yes, all-knowing relationship guru. How's your new book?" She asked as she turned on the TV.

Maybe it was leaving the TV on that was causing her to have odd dreams, or eating too much before falling asleep on the couch. Whatever the cause, the man that had been haunting her dreams had returned. His fingers touched her cheek and she felt like she was on fire. The flames didn't burn her and for an instant his touch cooled her skin. The moment past and she hit his hand from her face. Then she was on her feet facing the man. He reached towards his waist and drew a sword. She tightened her grip on the sword in her hands. He stared at her with no emotion, his eyes smothering her. It was like she was back in that deep unending pit, the darkness closing in around her, swallowing every last breath of her light, of her fire. She screamed, striking at him with all the terror and rage of a cornered beast, a monster from the pits of hell.

Jazmin's eyes opened, the sound of metal against metal ringing in her ears. Then she saw the apparitions hovering over her. Jazmin froze, trying to distinguish the darkness from the hazy face that seemed to be reaching out from it. When the specter did not fade into a trick of her eyes and actually reached towards her with a very real hand, she scrambled away frantically and nearly knocked over the lamp as she turned it on. She looked back over her shoulder but the face had disappeared.

She started to hyperventilate as she leaned to the other end to the couch and turn on that lamp too. What the hell? She brought her knees to her chest and concentrated on breath, her ears overly attentive to even the tiniest of noises. That face was definitely there. Right? She wasn't crazy… or could her eyes just been playing ticks on her? Or maybe it was just part of her dream… which she couldn't seem to remember now.

Jazmin sat up straiten as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She jumped to her feet and faced the other direction. Nothing. She could still feel a presence, and it seemed to be coming closer. Gathering what little courage she had left, Jazmin hurried to the closet by the front door. Her fingers found the handle of her high school baseball bat in the darkness just as she heard a noise outside the front door. She gripped the familiar bat with both hands for a second before yanking the door open ready to beat whatever was waiting for her.

Instead, she found a familiar face, but not one she wanted to see.

"You!" She reached over and flipped on the porch light.

It was the man with the red leather jacket, just no jacket this time. He was wearing something slightly more normal, a black jacket this time, standing on her porch in the middle of the night. His was holding his hands up in the hope she wasn't going to use the bat. That was, until he recognized her. "Seriously?" He started at her looked frustrated and confused as he dropped his hands. "Of course, who else…" He muttered and turned to walk away.

"What the hell? Are you stalking me?" Jazmin growled, gripping her bat again.

He made a noise like that was ridiculous and stopped, "Stalking you? No. If I recall, you followed me last time."

"And yet you keep showing up."

"Don't read in to it." He retorted and walking backward from her.

"If I see you again, I'm calling the cops." She growled.

"Whooho. Temper, temper, doll."

"Stop calling me that." Jazmin gripped the bat tighter and started to step through the doorway, ready to chase him off.

"Relax! What? Are you gonna fight me in those shorts?" He raised an eyebrow at her tiny little silk shorts. Jazmin hesitated; then tugged down on them, suddenly self-conscious. He put his hands in his pockets and glanced up at her house. "I didn't even know you lived here. Nice place… Have you noticed anyone suspicious lurking around… besides me."

"What are you? You're not a cop." She questioned, caught off guard. She did, however, find herself relaxing a bit in his presence.

"I'mma… private detective of sorts."

Jazmin loosen her grip on her bat. "You have a badge?" He pulled a badge from his pocket and tossed it to her. She barely caught it and set the bat down. The badge looked real, but she had no idea either way. "Is this about the murders?" She asked, glancing again for a name, she didn't see one.

"Yes."

She tossed it back and gave him a look. She had a feeling he wasn't telling her something.

"So, have you seen anything?"

"I haven't seen anything." Jazmin lied, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorframe. He didn't need to know she was seeing ghosts or having freaky nightmares; he was a detective not a ghost hunter, right?

He arched one of those white eyebrows again.

"I'm sure." She said before he could ask.

"Alright. Have a nice night then." He said turned walked away. Jazmin watched him until he walked across the street. She wasn't sure about him. Why the hell was he canvasing a neighborhood in the middle of the night? Why the hell was he at her house?

She locked the door then dialed Nathen. He picked up on the forth ring. "Nathen? Hey, it's me. Yeah I'm okay." She muttered, glancing between the blinds, watching the street. "Just scared myself… no, you don't have to come over, I just wanted to talk... Okay, okay. Yeah, I'll be awake. Kay, bye."

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This was not the kind of night Dante had been looking forward to. He was awake again, out doing shit he didn't really want to do. Lady thought she was onto something and had recruited him for 'canvasing', as she called it. Searching empty houses for demonic activity. There had been a series of abnormal demon attacks over the last month. The authorities had only just caught on when the last had occupied an individual's home. That victim had been the third that had worked for the Corporation. The forth murder would have been that angry girl with the baseball bat he had once again crossed path with. And now his inner demon was even more agitated.

He glanced back over his shoulder, barley seeing her house down the street on the dark night. It had been pure chance he had received an assignment in that part of town. Lucky for her he had been there. But, the fact she lived so close to the last murder. She had opened the door before he had even knocked… he had been following a demonic presence scent that brought him to her home. It was too much coincidence even for him

Maybe he should warn her. She seemed to be in more danger than a baseball bat could handle.

He pulled open the passenger side door of a dark car a block over. He sat down and pulled the door shut, feeling cramped. Lady glanced at him.

"That was fast, any luck?"

"That last house isn't empty. That girl lives there."

"What girl?"

"The girl I ran into a week or so back. Took her to the hospital."

Lady looked irritated. "Seriously? The owners are an older couple who have been out of the country for months…"

"You were right about something clinging to the area though, I think its just shadows… maybe some glooms. Nothing particularly dangerous." He muttered.

"Only if they don't attach something bigger… shit." She started the car. "Do you thinks it's a coincidence she lives there?"

"No" Dante shook his head and tried to get comfortable in the seat. "Any more locations for tonight?"

Lady shook her head and they drove in silence. Dante watched the city move by. Even so late, in the middle of the night, this city was still crawling. He thought maybe he should have been out, walking around. He could find someone to take home, spend the night with. Even as he thought about it, his demon stirred, wanting to something else in the night. He sighed, irritated and leaned back, closing his eyes. His demon usually wasn't this agitated, and when it was he usually didn't care. Fighting the demons that crawled about in the shadows of this city was something he enjoyed, but right now, he was just tired, perhaps even bored.

They stopped at a red light and it started to drizzle again. Lady flipped on the wipers.

"Maybe we should keep an eye on that girl."

"Yeah, whatever… I don't have anything better to do."

She turned onto another street. "Just want me to drop you off at the DMC?"

Dante smirked, looking out the window. "Naw, right here is good."

Lady slowed and leaned over, to look out the passenger side as Dante got out of the car. She made a disgusted face when she saw the neon sign, Love Planet. She glared at Dante when he closed the door and leaned down to the open window.

"I thought you said you didn't have any money, asshole."

"I don't." He winked at her, appearing quite pleased with himself. "You think I have to pay when I come here? I'm offended."

She huffed and put the car back into drive. "You're a dick, did you know that? The girl-"

"I'll start working on it in the morning."

"Whatever." She muttered and drove away, leaving him to hop back to avoid the splash of a puddle. Dante watched the taillights in the rain for a moment before turning back to the strip club.

He nodded at the bouncer, who returned the gesture as he walked up.

"Tony, haven't seen you in a while."

"Had my hands full with work."

The other man nodded then caught Dante's arm before he pushed the door open. "Careful, Randy's here tonight. He'll rip me a new one if one of the girls take off because of you."

Dante chuckled and patted the man on the shoulder. "I'm just here for the back door tonight."

The bouncer relaxed and let Dante past. Inside was an almost antique décor, dimly lit by lamps hanging on the walls. The carpet, thoroughly strained and turned dark from frequent use and less frequent cleanings, was a tacky floral panel that matched the railing around the stairwells leading to upstairs; VIP rooms and 'offices' Dante had never had the 'pleasure' of using. There were tables rounded by cushioned seats. The seating closet to the dancing strip that ran from the wall down the center of the room was mostly occupied. The music was upbeat and a few slender dancers were working along the catwalk.

Dante lingered by the door for a few moments, receiving a giggle and a wink from a girl that walked past, recognizing him. He smirked and moved towards the false wall on the other side of the club, near the bar. As he reached the other side of the room the music dimmed and a new dancer came onto the stage.

He'd seen her before and he lingered watching her dance. Her hair looked bright red under the lights.

I hate you for the sacrifices you made for me
I hate you for every time you ever bled for me
I hate you for the way you smile when you look at me
I hate you for never taking control of me

I hate you for always saving me from myself
I hate you for always choosing me and not someone else
I hate you for always pulling me back from the edge
I hate you for every kind word you ever said
I'll bleed you dry now

Blood, blood, blood
Pump more through my veins
Shut your dirty, dirty mouth
I'm not that easy

Blood, blood, blood
Pump more through my veins
I'm a dirty, dirty girl
I want it filthy

Blood, blood, blood
Pump more through my veins
Shut your dirty, dirty mouth
I'm not that easy

Blood, blood, blood
Pump more through my veins
I'm a dirty, dirty girl
I want it filthy

His demon writhed under his skin and Dante shivered at the sensation. He turned to the bar and caught the bartender's attention. After a moment, he set a double shot in front of him. Dante downed it at once then turned and pushed on the 'secret' door. It opened onto a thin hallway lined with doors and ended in stairs leading down. He pushed the door shut behind him and walked down the hall, the music growing quieter. Down the stairs led into an enclosed ally between the buildings on the street and the building behind it. It was raining harder now and Dante quickly opened the heavy metal door into the second building. It had .45 Caliber Warks painting on it.

The smell of gunpowder and oil was pleasantly familiar. He moved past the stacked boxes that had 'this way up' labels pointing the wrong direction. The space he entered was starkly lit and was nothing more than painted concrete blocks that were covered with various guns and other forms of artillery. A few shelves filled the middle with accessories and ammunition. A slender figure leaned over the counter that filled one of the walls, trying to see who had entered her shop. She scowled when she saw the hunter.

"Tony, you jackass. You know I have an actual front door."

"And miss a free show?" He asked approaching the counter as the woman leaned back, looked down at the disassembled gun on her work bench. Dante leaned on the counter and peeked at her work. "Looks like fun."

"Easier than fixing you're guns." She said then held her hand out to him. Dante pulled his dark pistol from under his jacket and handed it over to the gunsmith. Nell Goldstein was one of the only people Dante trusted with his guns. She was lanky and tall, still having that skinny teenager look as if she had never filled out, but she was a genius when it came to guns. She kept her hair short, above shoulder length and her eyes were sharp, seeing every little knick and imperfection in a gun. She checked for a round in the chamber then released the clip, setting it on the counter before forcing the slide back until it came off the base of the pistol.

"Still trying to match the lighting output of a machine gun?"

"How else would I shoot it?"

"Maybe like it's a normal gun? You should just buy a machine gun if that's the kind of damager you're looking for. You're shredding everything."

"Don't tell me how to do my job. Do I tell you how to do yours?"

"Yes, yes you do." She said with a smirk and reassembled Ebony and returned her to Dante. "So did you just come down here to bicker with me or did you want something?"

"Wanted to let you know that tip you gave me a few weeks back paid off."

"Oh?" She asked returned to the completely disassembled gun on her bench.

"I was around to save some girl. Thought you'd like to know."

"I know you're out all the time saving people." She looked up at him, "You do a lot more good than damage, no matter what those girls say."

Dante snorted and leaned on the counter, gazing at the wall of firearms. "Does that mean Trish has been in?"

Nell snorted, "Yes, she has. She got an ear full too. If the both of you actually paid me, I could run my entire business of just you two. Though, she did give me something of yours." She said, grabbing a rag, wiping her fingers off.

"What?" Dante asked turned around and watching Nell walk back into the workshop behind the counter. She disappeared behind a few rows of shelves. He waited and finally heard her curse followed by a loud crash. After another moment she returned heaving a large case behind her. She lifted it onto the counter and Dante rubbed the back of his head in confusion.

"What the hell are you doing with Pandora?" He asked grabbing the demonic briefcase.

"Trish brought it in almost two months ago. She asked if I could fit some kind of locks on it." She said with a smirk. Dante then noticed the serious looking pad locks bolted over the latches on top of the case. "I'm guessing she opened it." Nell chuckled. "I took the hint and left it shut."

Dante shook his head and tossed the case over his shoulder. "Well, I guess I should thank you."

"But that would be so out of character." She returned to her work, "Don't be getting into too much trouble, Tony. I'll be expecting another visit soon so I can doctor you're poor weapons."

"Don't hold you're breath." He said with a little bow and exited the shop through the front door and back into the rain.

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The song is Blood by In This Moment

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DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters from the Devil May Cry series, nor do I make any money from this reproduction.