Author's Note: The scene changes in this chapter are marked by the triple sets of triple Xs. I would also like to note that the formatting on the e-mails turned to shit and resulted in the fixing of the (fake) addresses. Dante's website is dmciv dot org, and I have no idea if it exists. I do know that there is a hotsaucedante user on livejournal who acts strangely similar to my version of Dante. HMMM, how suspicious. Or not. He seems to have a thing for gothic architecture and calling Vergil names. It's kind of funny.
The Internet is for Porn, Part I
Sent to: hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX
From: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
Subject: DEV-H Welcome to the Devil Hunter listserv!
Welcome to the Devil Hunter listserv, Dante!
Your password is XXXXXX.
You can access the listserv archives at XXXXXX. To message the listserv, just hit 'reply' and type in your message.
Please play nice with other people, obey all the social etiquette you normally do when face to face with someone, etc., so on and so forth. Have fun!
Dante's eyes glinted in a decidedly malicious manner as he read the e-mail. The Devil May Cry office had bought a brand-spanking-new computer to keep up with the times as business started turning digital, and he had just finished setting everything up. Behind his chair, Trish peered at the screen and raised one of her over-plucked blonde eyebrows at what she saw.
"Ohohoho, boy," said Dante, closing that window and bringing up the one that had ads for 'XXX HOT GIRLS LESBIANS EXPOSING THEMSELVES XXX'. "Hell yeah! This is what I'm all about."
"No surfing for porn on company time," Trish said, giving him a sharp look. Before he could do anything, she swiftly reached out and pressed a key, closing the porn window. When Dante glared at her, she just tossed her hair and tapped the screen pointedly. "I believe you were about to try out a messenger client?"
"Whatever, Trish," said Dante. "Who needs it? I don't."
"Just in case," said Trish. "And by the way, you're not allowed to slam your feet on the desk anymore. It might break the computer." She sauntered away into one of the back rooms with a swish of her hair.
Dante shrugged one shoulder and got back to clicking. Hey, if not slamming his feet on the desk was what it took to keep a computer safe and happy (and full of porn), then it was no biggie. He just hoped the armor he'd put on it would keep it safe from any angry office invaders; the damn thing was way too expensive for him to replace constantly.
A window popped up on the messenger client he was using, asking if he wanted to let someone see him when he was online. Dante clicked 'OK' and another window appeared—damn, how many windows were there?
Lady :
Dante?
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
Yo. What's up, babe? If you think you can trick me into rescuing your ass for free again, then forget it.
Lady :
Geez, Dante, you type fast. And how many times do I have to tell you to not call me 'babe'?
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
You can't shoot me this time, so I'll call you whatever I want, babe.
Lady :
Fine. I'll just keep a tally and shoot you when I see you later. You're at two bullets now.
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
The day you can keep up with me is still yet to come. It's cute how hard you try, though.
Lady :
You're dead. Anyway, have you signed up for that listserv?
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
Yeah. I got one of those BS welcome e-mails telling me to play nice. What's up with this, anyway? Do they post legitimate jobs or what?
Lady :
They share the big jobs. It's usually a matter of fitting it into your schedule. I know you're not really in the loop with the devil hunting stuff—FYI, only a few of the listserv members are actually competent. Pretty sure I'm the only one who's at your caliber.
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
If this is supposed to sell me on the concept, then you're falling pretty short of the goal.
Lady :
Just try it out, Dante. I've teamed up with a few of these guys on some really weird jobs. Of course, you would probably end up solo on a lot of them.
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
That's because I'm good.
Lady :
No, it's because you're so hard to work with. The ego practically has its own gravitational pull.
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
Aww, Lady, take it easy on the compliments. You're making me blush.
"Flirting again?" Dante glanced over his shoulder where Trish had reappeared. "You know it's not going to do any good."
Dante waved dismissively. "Hey," he said, "a guy has to find some fun somewhere." He leaned back and smirked, rubbing his chin. "I just happen to like them dangerous and armed to the teeth."
"One day, she's going to shoot you somewhere other than your face, and then you'll be sorry," said Trish, her eyes trailing down to his crotch. "You'd better kiss all your future heirs good-bye while you can."
Dante glanced down reflectively. "You know, I think I'll name one of them Vergil," he said. "Hey there, Vergil! How you doin'? What's that? You want to meet a hot egg somewhere? I'm sure I can arrange that—" He dodged the electrically-charged hand Trish swiped at his head and tsked at her. "Now, now, Trish. Don't wave that around the computer—might break, you know?" Trish tossed her head again and shoved Dante over so that she could get at the keyboard.
Lady :
Your imagination is still as active as ever, I see.
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
Hey, Lady. It's Trish. Dante is being an idiot again.
Lady :
Hi. Yeah, I noticed.
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
He's started talking to his little swimmers.
"Hey, you're the one who brought the topic up!" Dante protested.
Lady :
You're kidding, right?
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
I swear it's true. He named one of them Vergil.
Lady :
Hmm. Any word on which one?
hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX :
No idea. Only Dante knows what he's talking about.
Lady :
Whichever one it is, it's probably better-looking than him. He might kill it out of jealousy.
Dante rolled his eyes and started sifting through the magazines covering his desk. Oh, here was the latest issue of Guns'N'Roses! He paged through it and sighed at all of the high prices. Not that he needed new guns, of course, but having lots of shiny metal decorating his walls definitely wouldn't hurt.
"Dante," said Trish after a few minutes. "I think you just got an e-mail from that listserv."
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: XXXXXX
Subject: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
Hey fellow hunters your help is needed
Just got a call from a lady about neer o. high school in XXXXXX she says it's had a lot of strange activity in the past couple of weeks and the kids are really scared
Said there were pounding noises on the walls next to people and the janitor hung himself in the middle of the cafeteria in a ritual star
People have disappeared in the area and the parents are afraid the kids will be next
Before you tell me to research more I went there and it stinks real bad like formaldehide and rotting corpses and I found extensive traces of summoning rituals
Please it's too big for me to handle on my own Im just a small time hunter who kills demonic cockroaches and stuff
Call XXXXXX if you can help
James L
Dante yawned. "He probably smelled a stink bomb," he said. "I've set off enough of those in my errant youth to know."
Trish snorted. "Well, you can either call or ask for more details."
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: XXXXXX
Subject: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
James L, huh? Aren't you that stupid prick who sent everyone into a panic over a couple of buzzers a few months back?
Count me out. You're probably raising a fuss over nothing.
S
"Well, that answers that," said Trish. "He seems to be an alarmist."
"My Sparda sense is tingling," Dante said. "It feels kinda nice." Trish shot him a look and rolled her eyes when he grinned.
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
I know I did some stupid crap a while back but trust me this is no joke
Please help I don't know what to do
James L
"Better than nothing," said Dante. "All right, let's go!" He shouldered Trish out of the way.
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX
Subject: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
You're in my area. Get me some solid proof and I'll go kick some ass.
Sent to:
devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
Thank you I don't have photos only my intuition and some drawings of the stuff I saw but if you want proof on the deaths and disappearances u should take a look at the local newspaper and come look at the school yourself
Im sorry if you don't believe me next time I go Ill bring a camera and take pictures
It would be great if the issue resolved itself but I know it's not gonna so that's why im asking for help.
James L
"Jeez," said Dante. "This guy takes forever. How is this a good idea, exactly?" Trish sighed. "Whatever," he said. "I say we just go kill stuff. This is just a waste of time."
"There might be some information you need to know," said Trish. "Give it until tomorrow and then I'll let you run wild if it seems legitimate."
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
Hey, Newbie;
Since our e-mails are hidden, you should sign your name at the bottom of the message so we know who we're talking to.
With that said, I've researched and there are small articles about the death and names have appeared on the Missing Persons list, but that still doesn't prove any demonic activity is going on. After the buzzer scare, I'm inclined not to trust you, James L. Visit again and get some photos.
Lakes
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
Lakes, Dante doesn't need to sign his name for me to feel the ego. It's oppressive and smells a bit like day-old cheese pizza.
Well, if Dante thinks it's worth a look then I'm game. Dante?
Lady
"Whoa, Lady is everywhere," said Dante.
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
Whoa, Lady, since when did you listen to my opinion? And there's nothing wrong with day-old pizza, just so you know. I don't know where you got the cheese part, though. I order pineapple and ham.
I'm game. Let's rock!
Anyone who cares can show up tomorrow at NOHS at 8pm.
PS: Lakes: DAAAAAAAAAANTEEEEEEEEE
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
You're right Lady, it does smell a bit like day-old cheese pizza. Well, if Lady is going to be there, I'll be there too. James L, it looks like fortune is smiling down on you today, because you get two top-grade devil hunters and a complete dumbass named Dante tomorrow.
S
"I'm not the only one with a huge ego," said Dante to Trish. The phone started ringing and he picked it up. "Devil May Cry," he said.
Lady's voice buzzed out of the phone. "You know, I thought the typical meeting time for killing demons was around midnight." She sounded amused.
"I can kill demons any time of the day," Dante said. "Who's this S guy?"
"Oh, has your male ego been bruised?" Lady teased.
"He's gonna have to try harder than that to get to me. If he's going to be there tomorrow, then I want to know a little bit about him." Dante prodded at the number pad of the phone and put it down; Lady's voice came out, muffled by the speaker setting. Trish sat on the arm of his chair and listened attentively.
"S is an older guy who's got a pretty good reputation in our circle. His name is Silas. I think he usually sticks with mid-level demons, although we've teamed up for a lark on some of the big ones," said Lady. "He probably thinks you're just some greenhorn hunter that I'm humoring."
"What? How the hell did he get that impression?" Dante found himself getting elbowed out of the way by Trish.
Sent to: devilhunter(at)XXXXXX
From: hotsauce1(at)XXXXXX
Subject: Re: Re: DEV-H Big job at local high school – save the kids
Trish here. Don't bother thanking us, James. Just bring those sketches you made and we'll take care of the rest.
"Well, your overpowering presence doesn't translate over the Internet," said Lady. "All you sound like is some cocky kid bulling your way into someone else's business. By the way, what do you make of this job?" There were clicking noises as she evidently typed something. Dante suddenly got the feeling that he was trapped in a land where everything was taken care of on the computer and he slowly grew fat while he sat in his chair and killed digital demons with a digital gun. He felt the need to smash the monitor.
"We've been past a few times," said Dante. "It wasn't ever smelly enough for us to check out, especially for free. Sounds like it's started to, though."
"Yes," Lady agreed, still clicking away. Dante restrained himself from demanding to know what she was doing. "It always starts with disappearances, and the janitor…oh, here's the article." There was a short pause. "It calls the ritual star 'mysterious marks on the floor and the walls' and that the police are looking into it. He was probably some sort of sacrifice."
"No pictures?" Dante glanced at the monitor and discovered that Trish had pulled up the same article. It was like magic. He skimmed a few lines and laughed. "What is this BS article? What are they teaching in journalism schools these days, anyway?"
"Not writing," said Lady. "I'd call it ignorant snooping, but that wouldn't be nice to my journalist friend who covers up some of my jobs."
"Ooh! Doing something illegal, are we?" Dante said in a mocking voice. "Tsk tsk, Lady. You should know better!"
"Says the man who reduced half of downtown into a steaming rubble heap when he was nineteen!" Lady retorted.
"Hey, that wasn't me, that was Vergil," said Dante. "Don't blame me for his actions."
"It was all your fault." There was a final click. "Okay, I'm going to have to go. See you tomorrow night, Dante."
"Bye." He hung up the phone and gave Trish a pathetic look. "Trish, Lady is going to leave me for some old geezer named Silas."
Trish ignored him. Well, it was a pretty stupid thing to say, so Dante let her off the hook.
XXX XXX XXX (Oh yeah! Keep it coming!)
By the time Dante roared into the school parking lot on his motorbike, there was already quite a collection of people there, all talking loudly to each other about demon exterminators and a really hot chick in tights and an ammo skirt. With a grin, he revved his engine and swerved around them, earning a few shrieks of surprise.
"You're such a show-off," Trish said in his ear. She was perched on the back of the seat with a hand bracing herself lightly on his back, and kept offering annoying advice about his driving. "I see Lady." She pointed at a woman with a white shirt and what looked like part of a telephone pole strapped to her back. There was a man next to her. Dante obligingly screeched to a halt two feet away and saluted.
"Dante," said Lady, scowling. "I see you finally showed up."
"It's 8:05, babe," said Dante, dismounting and nudging the kickstand with his foot. "I'm fashionably late."
"There was traffic," Trish cut in before Lady could shoot him in the face. "A school bus full of kids, in fact. Funny thing, seeing one of those at 8pm on a school night."
Lady sighed. "It's that James," she explained. "We somehow got ourselves an audience because he told a friend who told another friend—well, you know how it goes. Now we've got half the school hanging out in the parking lot to watch." She glanced over her shoulder at the man next to her.
The man was dressed in what looked like someone's hand-me-down pajama set with weapon holsters strapped everywhere. Dante could see numerous scars crisscrossing all over his face and vanishing under his shirt. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and when he saw Dante assessing him, he raised an eyebrow and said cool-as-you-please, "Silas, at your service. Dante, right? Lady's told me a few things about you."
Dante smirked. "Nice to meet you. You sure you should be out here? Strenuous activity is bad for the joints of the elderly, you know."
Silas didn't reply, and instead turned his head to the side to look at a somewhat thickset man who had come puffing up to them. "James," he said. "I see you haven't found a good exercise regime yet."
James gave him a wounded look and sucked in a few deep breaths before he started to speak. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much for coming. I'm sorry about the crowd."
"I work better with an audience," Dante joked.
"Yes, sorry," James said again, fumbling in his pockets. "I have the drawings that Miss Trish asked for," he added, finally fishing out a sheaf of crumpled and greasy papers that he handed to Trish. Trish took them and wrinkled her nose a little. Lady and Silas leaned in to look.
"Looks like a pentagram-based spell, but I can't make out enough details to be sure which one specifically," said Silas.
"Hmm," said Trish. She pulled her sunglasses off and thumbed through the drawings. Dante noted that James was staring at her chest.
"Dante, don't you want to look?" asked Lady. He glanced at her and shrugged.
"Hey," he said. "I personally don't need any visual aides, but if you think you need the help, go for it."
Wordlessly, Lady pulled out one of her heftier pistols and shot him in the temple. Dante's head was knocked sideways from the force. Someone from the crowd screamed. Silas said, "My God!" and James started gibbering.
Annoyed, Dante rocked upright and said, "Whoa, Lady! Tetchy today, are we?" She made to shoot him again, but he whipped out Ivory and pushed her gun barrel aside. "You can shoot me once, but twice is another matter," he said.
Lady leaned close, her eyes narrowing. "I still owe you another three bullets," she said darkly. "Insult me again and next time you'll find yourself with a Kalina-Ann-sized-hole in those washboard abs of yours." She jerked away and strode angrily to Silas, who had gone grey in the face. The two started holding a whispered conversation that Dante pretended he couldn't hear. He tucked Ivory back into its holster and slapped a quivering James on the back.
"Good job, Dante," said Trish. "You just couldn't pass that one up, could you?" When Dante only grinned, she shook her head and handed him a greasy sheet. "Here, this one looks pretty familiar, doesn't it?"
"Hell Gate, opening rites," said Dante, glancing over it. "I saw these in that tower and on the island." He returned it to Trish, who examined it carefully and nodded. "Who the hell would open up one of these in a school?"
"A psychopath," Silas said. He and Lady had finished their private conversation. "I'm going to stay out here and see if I can find the culprit." He gestured to the crowd, which was milling anxiously. A crowd of school kids were mixed in with the adults and Dante noticed that several of them were staring at him with open admiration.
"We get to clean up the mess inside, huh," said Dante. "It's always like that."
Lady snorted and made her way to the entrance of the school. "That's the way you like it, right, Dante?"
"You say that like you don't agree," said Dante, following. "Have fun at your pajama party, old man," he threw over his shoulder at Silas before he disappeared into the dark school with Lady and Trish.
Inside, Dante got a whiff of something that reminded him of the time he forgot to take out the trash for a month, mixed with a mad scientist's specimen tank. There was a bit of formaldehyde, half-rotten cheese, bad milk, and a distinctive odor that he normally associated with demons mixed in.
"Looks like you were right, Dante," said Trish, sniffing. "Haven't even seen anything yet and still it reeks like your trash can."
"Well, if a certain blonde someone wouldn't keep using up all the Febreze on her clothes," said Dante pointedly, "my trash might smell like a fresh mountain breeze." The lobby of the school had three hallways leading out of it and he strolled over to the middle one casually. "So, is this the point where we all split up and meet vicious slavering doom at the end of our respective hallways?" he asked. A ball of paper bounced off the back of his head and he caught it on the way down.
"That's a map of the school," said Lady. "We're splitting up to meet vicious slavering doom at the end of our respective hallways."
"As long as I've got the biggest one, I don't care," said Dante. "See ya, Trish," he added to the empty corridor to his right. Trish was already long gone. "Man," he muttered after Lady left. "Well, let's do this!" He took off.
Beyond the dimly lit lobby, the darkness was oppressive and smelled worse than ever. Dante could feel it clinging at his legs and chest with sticky, malicious fingers, slowing him down and trying to tug him in different directions. "Phew!" He made a face at the worsening stench and skidded around a corner.
The chattering demonic horde, averaging about two feet tall all around, turned en masse and blinked at him with eerie blue insect eyes. Dante grinned as his brain catalogued everything in the hall in the space of two seconds. "Well, well," he said. "Whack-a-mole was always the game I got perfect scores on in the arcade. Let me guess, this is the Master level." He casually moved his foot out of the way when one of the smaller demons tried to sink its practically microscopic teeth into his boot. When it tried to scrabble backwards—the move had placed it a good foot away from the rest of the horde—Dante decided that he wanted to test how strong the floor was with Rebellion. The little demon let out a piercing shriek of agony as it got impaled, and vanished in a puff of foul-smelling smoke.
Dante felt the stares of thousands of mini-nightmares sharpen and a loathsome miasma start leaking into the atmosphere. He grinned disarmingly at them. "What's wrong?" he said. "All of you are so quiet." He picked up Rebellion again and beckoned. "Come on, guys. I'm feeling kind of left out now. I came expecting a hot party but all I see is a cold reception."
The mass of demons shifted uncertainly. Dante shrugged. "All right, be that way. Don't come crawling to me when the cops come and bust you for being party poopers!" He slammed his blade down again and a whole swath of them vanished with a chorus of angry wailing. The black mass rose up and became a wall about to crash down on him. Dante felt his grin widen as the world went black.
XXX XXX XXX (I can't hear you!)
After all that hype and the anticipation Dante had ignited, Lady was terribly disappointed by the time she reached the end of her hallway. The place was empty and completely normal-looking.
"This is the last time I'm trusting anything you say, you big doof," she muttered, staring at the floor-to-ceiling windows that marked the end of the hall. "I drive an hour, meet up with that pretentious ass Silas, get panted over by that other cad, and all for nothing! Five minutes of insults and an empty building!" She hefted Kalina Ann and tightened the shoulder strap—stupid thing was always slipping—before turning around. Still empty hallway; if anything had wanted to pop up and scare her, now was the time to do it.
Nothing happened.
"Damn," said Lady. "That's it, I'm out of here. Dante, have fun waving your gun at shadows." Annoyed, she took one step, two steps, then stopped, because the lighting had just directed her attention to a door that she hadn't noticed.
JANITOR'S CLOSET, she read on the label of the door.
Her map told her that there was no door there. Lady cocked her pistol and measured a few steps so that she could take a running jump at it. There was really nothing better than kicking a cheap wooden door down with steel-weighted boots.
Of course, using Kalina Ann was much better. The door went down in flames and Lady sauntered through, carefully stepping over little gouts of flame and sniffing the air for any demons. In devil-hunting, a hunter's number one sense was often their sense of smell, followed by touch and then sight, because demons never seemed to think to hide their stench; either that or they didn't carry any air freshener with them. The only exceptions Lady had ever met were Vergil and Dante, but those two were half-demons and didn't really count. Dante especially—on a good day, Dante smelled a bit like a wet dog as well as whatever manly shampoo he'd been using lately, but on a bad day he smelled almost as bad as his trash did after not being taken out for two weeks. She could barely remember thinking that Vergil smelled a bit like milk about to go bad, but she chalked that up to Vergil probably being anal about washing. Full demons just plain stank all the time. Lady suspected Dante's mother had no sense of smell, if she stuck around long enough to produce twins with daddy-dearest.
Well, whatever her opinions were on the matter of Dante's conception, the air was clear in the large room beyond the door. There wasn't even the smell of cleaning solutions like she would have expected after seeing the label on the door.
"Okay, guys," she said. "The game's up. I know this room isn't supposed to be here, and I'm not gonna just leave now that it seems like nothing's in here. Come clean or I'm blowing this place sky high."
Silence. A little rumble, a little scratching, and she had her gun ready and waiting. Primed, oiled and ready to go—and this had better be that slavering doom Dante was joking about or else she was going to have words with him about his stupid women's intuition.
There was a deep boom and Lady felt the floor go out from beneath her. "Son of a bitch!" she shrieked, surprised enough to let go of her inhibition towards swearing, just before the darkness swallowed her whole.