Chapter 7 - Bitter Souls


The scientist didn't know how to react to the sudden appearance, this dark figure emerging to dominate the room.

The figure was tall and thin, with skin as pale as a glass of milk; standing still, vigilantly lurking amongst leaden shadows. He stared out like a cobra seeking prey, the glare of his wide crimson eyes slowly weaving threads of terror in their minds. Slow movements, almost like the body had no bones whatsoever, slunk and oozed there way toward them. From this hollow darkness came a greasy charm, a bright smile met their gaze, so friendly all of a sudden.

"Good evening, friends. . ." He spoke with a chilling rasp, "Sorry I've run late, I was trying to decide which method to apply."

He lifted his T-shirt and drew a vertical line on his stomach with his fingers, then took the craft knife from the nearby table.
Piercing it through his flesh, he made a deep incision along the line he'd had drawn on his stomach. Blood flowed freely, dribbling on the floor out his gut.
Prying both his hands inside, he tore open the flesh as wide as he could, revealing his organs in full to their naked eyes.

He could see the fear in their eyes, horrified at his self-mutilation. They deserved it.

"Don't worry, this is for the greater good remember?" Dante whispered, "Who cares if you're a person. . . ? Experimentation matters more than you."

He looked down upon the hole he'd just made and knew this wasn't enough payback for these scientist bastards.

He placed both his hands into his stomach and slowly, with a painted-on look of pleasure, began to push his hands into his gut.
He didn't feel anything, but he made it look like an orgasm, the warm, slightly viscous texture of his blood on his hands made him feel. . . Different.
He could touch his intestines, and it took a little longer than he'd imagined to work his way through them, then his hands felt something inside.

It could've been his lungs or his liver, he wasn't quite sure, but that didn't really matter for now. They wanted psychological warfare?

They'd get horrifying nightmares not even mommy could prepare them for.

He looked up at them, refocused on their faces. His eyes lacked their iris, leaving only a tiny black pupil to stare at their insignificant faces.
It was hard to do, but a visual trick he'd taught himself using his demonic bloodline. It looked unnerving as hell, his sharpened teeth revealing a bestial undercurrent.

As he stood there, to his surprise and delight, they were still staring and boy. . . Did they look scared.

"You don't like when someone does it you. This is half of what you put my brother through, you sick fucks." Dante snarled to them. The lead doctor didn't speak, he was dying. . . Slowly.

He loosened his grip inside, and slowly started to remove his bloodied hands from his body. He showed them more sickening joy than he'd ever imagined himself capable of.

It was at this point that they all knew where they'd gone wrong, trifling in things they couldn't even comprehend.
Dante blistered a smile as the hole he tore open sowed itself shut without stitches, returning to it's defined shape.
Air was still, the total lack of movement evident in their stilted, ridged actions. Their glasses shined against the artificial light, hiding marked fear from the slayer's gaze, but he could sense it.

"So, who else wants an examination from the good doctor?" He said, eyes glistering rage. The slayer sauntered towards them, content to never stop.


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Chris backtracked as Myles showered the bizarre creature with lead. Somehow, it resembled both a Licker and a zombie with a pump-action shotgun staggered along, throat torn open and tongue flapping.

The skin had rotted away at the mouth, leaving a massive tendon smile, teeth elongated. The gun was leftover from it's previous life, the uniform suggesting some kind of security enforcer.

The muscles had swelled beyond recognition, tearing open the outfit in certain places. It's brain overran the eyes, leaving it blind to conventional sight. Echolocation was the new mode.

Their reactions were swift and repulsive. The body began to writhe, to tremble, and a high-pitched squeal shock the room like an earth-quick.
Chris and his partner felt their ears about to explode, they were stunned on the spot. The creature danced toward them, swirling it's arms around like a windmill.
That nauseating stench made it seem like it crawled right out of the morgue, stinking of decayed food and rotted skin.

Chris bit his lip and gave it a solid kick to it's abdomen, and though this felt like he'd just kicked a box truck, it staggered backward.

Another loud growl erupted from nowhere as Chris took the shotgun it dropped and emptied the last shell into it's face.
It's large throat exploded, the old school sawed-off shotgun providing a massive boom.
He didn't know if that was this creature's breath alone, and he wouldn't wait around to see.

"Let's move!" Chris screamed.

Together they kicked the door open and bolted out from the lab, leaving anything else inside behind.
All the halls were long and winding, periodically forcing them to take turns without knowing where they would end up as more and more mutations would appear.
A horde of ghouls appeared, their flesh peeling off as they continually rotted, flaking decay around them. They trudged towards them, arms curled autonomically.
They saw an open hall a foot to their right, and it led off to darkness. The next closest thing they wouldn't be able to reach in time, as the undead were soon to swallow the route.
Well, they had to take the chance. Using the flashlight on his submachine gun, the duo darted into the hall, and discovered it a massive, empty corridor that overlooked the lab.

Myles took aim and shot the lock panel, and an electrical surge crackled through the outlets. The door slowly began to descend, grinding against the metal walls slowly.

Unexpected, but they can work with it they supposed.

A few twisted stragglers got into the hall with them before the metal doors jammed for a split second, the came crushing down, obliterating others trying to enter and sealing off the horde.

The two fired off more rounds, aiming for the head while they stumbled forward, and in a moment, the few cadavers that followed lay on the sterile ground stained.

They took a moment to catch their breath, the coast was finally clear on their other side.

It was a big hall, to the left was the lab, and to the right were massive panes of glass through which they could see the outside.

"So tell me, what did you find?" Chris panted through the question.

Myles swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Well. . . It seems Yamato is a Japanese katana that's strong enough to cut through steel, like the mechanical doors we, uh. . . That we see around here." He gestured back to the door.
"Although. . . It's described as if this thing is the greatest weapon ever made, and if someone held it against us, I'd like to keep my limbs in one piece on this torso."

Chris shrugged, "Okay that's insane, it's just a Katana. How strong can a piddly sword be? Anything else?"

Myles cocked his head a bit.

"Well uh, I know the owner of it is that guy, the one who walked out of the lab. The notes say something about a halfbreed and some stuff about the strength of his sword. Euphemisms galore."

Just the memory alone made Chris shiver.

Those piercing red eyes. . . He can still feel the fingers that were once wrapped around his throat.

Chris grumbled to himself and started walking through the front on the massive hall, needing to move immediately and locate more of these test subjects as fast as possible.
Myles lifted his assault rifle up and double checked the ammunition in the magazine. They operated like a one-two punch, one checking themselves while the other kept an eye out for potential danger.
One can't be too careful when dungeon-crawling through an illegal infested black ops compound. . . Through Russia. . . In summer. . .

"Okay then, we have something we have to take care of."

The young man frowned, "Yeah, we have to locate that Vergil guy don't we?"

His superior nodded reluctantly.

"We'll need backup, then." The younger soldier sighed.

'I hope Jill's okay.' The man thought.


His view through the monitor had some static, but he could still see them, both agents continuing on their way.

Sergei couldn't help his smile.

"Did you hear that Vergil?" He spoke, cheerful, "These guys aren't him, but I hope you don't mind."

A figure in the corner of the room made a grunt. . . Strange and deep, like an animal; some kind of wolf. . . The growls were evidence of that assumption.
He was clad in blackish-green armor that appeared organically weaved into the flesh, with spikes, horns, and pulsating cerulean lines that traversed all through his body.
The armor moved with the body inside, making it appear completely fluid, despite it's metal sheen. It held up a giant zweihänder that bore a soul-eating razor edge.

The buster-sword glowed a menacing blue flame, and a spike adorned the bottom of the blade's base, curving down to form a guard on it's handle.

"After them." The man told his slave.

Standing, the man became engulfed in azure flames, then simply disappeared. Vergil emerged in the room, standing directly before both agents as they trekked down the hall.

Both staggered back, frightened.

They aimed, but tried to assess the threat, since it appeared radically different to most Umbrella experiments.

"What the fuck is that!?" Myles stammered as Chris locked his sights.

The stoic figure stood there, motionless. His blade hung to the side, touching the floor. He stared emotionless, his face covered by a helmet that fit over his features perfectly.
Atop the helmet's crown, two spikes emerged, and curled downward, glowing some hues of red with the indigo of his other sections. He seemed like he was standing there just waiting for something.
A voice rang out clearly through the hall, emergent through PA speakers destined to startle.

"Oh I forget, you cannot talk through that armor." He spoke through the intercom, watching them, "It's your fault. You have a job to do, but you failed."

The men got antsy, and Myles opened fire.

The bullets stopped dead, crushing against his armor ineffectively.

He stood still, again remaining unmoved, like the bullets didn't even hit him.

The voice lurched in again, still only addressing the dark knight.

"Fight your twin and finish him off, if you fail again completely, it'll be even worse for you. You forgot your place, you filthy slave."

Sergei turned his focus to a different monitor, and on the screen, at the corner, he saw an amusing sight.
A reptilian creature, legs-wise. It's head seemed to have spiky edges, though the image was dark grainy. It was hard to tell.
There were cracks on it's chest, and the coat appeared to separate into three parts that were shaped much like an insect's wings.

The creature growled and a red energy illuminated from him as he started to drill through the wall.

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Dante found himself in a half-lit room, it had seven sections of desks with several still-active computers running.
He exhaled raspy, and lightning sprung through his fists, once again he pounded his way through, sparks flying in the air. These walls were so cold, the entire facility was freezing.
His fists beat through the metal, tearing away until only a scrap heap was left, blasted around the mechanized room. He stood haggard, his strength only allowing so much.
He stopped at the front of the room, a shrill sound filled the air as all of the computers started bursting into flames and breaking into pieces.

He sprinted toward the door, with one spin kick and crushed the metal in, exploding it out the other side. The door bent and crumpled down with a smash.

He was met with the faces of multiple researchers, huddled back in a small hall behind glasses. The rooms had cubicles and flimsy desks where results were stacked.

Both sides had people visible through windows. Two security officers pulled something from their pockets and tried to taser him.

The feeling of their weapons was nothing more than a tingle. He almost laughed, these two lugheads really thought they had a chance looking at him like this?

Dante was amused at the sight of them, they were trying to run now, dropping their tase-sticks to the ground.
A subtle impulse inside his chest caused him to stare emotionless at the two. Time slowed down, as a dark thought crossed his mind.
He disappeared in a red flash, cosmically vanishing before them. The two stopped to look back, wondering what in the hell just happened. He wasn't anywhere, not for them.
The two backed away, slowly trying to ascertain where the strange figure went. Muffled screams from the side were trying to warn them.

One looked to the side, wondering why they were yelling at him.

His back hit something, or rather something hit his back.

Dante's gauntleted fist pierced through the closest man to him, impaling him through the heart until his arm was out through his chest.

He held the man's heart in his hand, right before the guard's eyes, and crushed it in a bloody pulp. The man's face was stunned and frozen, as Dante let him fall off.

The other man turned around, his face met an open hand that grasped at his features, holding his head in his giant hand. He screamed, begging to be let go.

His fist closed, compressing the skull into a thick mulch as his screams distorted and gorged into gurgles. He let the corpse collapse to the floor, twitching involuntarily.

A sound of a siren followed, and everything became bathed in red light.

Chaos commenced, as the researchers all began to scramble around, looking for any way out, but all exits led to the hallway.

The workers searched for guns and managed to arm themselves with last-resort weapons, though they held them with inexperience.
Thankfully, they could rest easy since the doors were locked, and the glass was several inches thick. There was hope the man would just walk away.
Dante stood there watching, silently looking amongst the dead men from the hall. . . His eyes lacking emotion.

From inside, he heard them panic, saying various things.

"Where did it come from? Why is that here!?"

"My god, what the hell is that thing!?"

"We should be safe in here, he can't get in through that glass. Just remain calm, everything is going to be okay."

"Be. . . B-be brave men, and call f-f-for the Master!" One of them stuttered.

Dante strode slowly to the window, looking at them with those cold baby-blues so warped.

He placed one finger to the window. He tapped the glass with the claw, and it cracked slightly. The others remained nervous, but not entirely too scared.
The slayer cocked his head to the right, wondering what force it would take to shatter this. Maybe. . . He placed his fist on the small crack, and concentrated for a small moment.
No, the other's thought, theres no way he could break this. It's five feet worth of rock solid plexiglass, polished regularly with a built-in system.

Dante exhaled a scaly breath, then slammed his knuckles forward, a three-inch punch.

He absolutely demolished the pane into pieces. Glass and wind blasted the scientists, slicing through the occupants. He jumped in, and began a ruthless massacre.
He let his ancient half take over, his anger turning to nihilism. Two other men jumped at his back trying fruitlessly to hold onto his arms. Thrusting both elbows back, he took off a pound of flesh.
The keeled over, entire sections of their midriff just missing. He spent one moment looking, his stare piercing both men's dying lights. Amazing how different they became at death.

He felt multiple knives puncture his chest from the front.

Slowly, the slayer turned his head as he remained unmoved.

His gaze fell upon two women and a man.

"I'm not tipping the ferryman for you." Dante growled. His arm swayed back, and then rocketed toward them.

He struck a fist-sized hole right through the man's head, prompting female screams as he slammed their bodies on the ground in front of him. With a snap of his fingers, he gouged out their eyes.
Human destruction wasn't something he ever considered part of his capacity, but something else was in the drivers seat now. An old instinct pounded on his brain, making him tread on and on.

The only researchers left exchanged horrified looks, they frantically searched for any escape while security officers were aiming straight at him.

Dante marched toward them in a slow, mocking saunter.

Trembling, they turned around, ready to unlock the automatic door, but they felt a cold flush of air. Right there, in front of the door stood the demon, eyes shining red anger.

One by one they fell on their knees, begging, groveling. . .

"P-please. . . Please! Please let us go. . ."

The only thing that played in his mind over and over again was the image of Vergil strapped to a bed. . . While they all put needles through him, recording whatever the hell they did to him.
Cutting him open, lobotomizing him over and over, wearing away at him till there was nothing of the original. What did they even put into his brother's body? The thought enraged all the more.
Dante roared, loud enough for them to cover their ears. He charged with his sword and drilled through them, sparks illuminating the place a color other than red.

The alarm drowned out the cries, leaving behind a screaming silence. All he heard was the blood pumping in his veins.
Right there, gored by his sword, the bodies dangling helplessly. They took their last breaths as he threshed the blade harshly to the ground.

Blood seeped into the nearby walls.

A message in blood for those who'd want to continue research.

On the opposite side of the hall, he saw the scientists petrified.

Clenching his fists closed, he boomed forward through the air, smashing the glass into atoms as he set about violently macerating human forms, tearing off limbs, severing heads.
Ripping out ribs and throats like apples off a tree, the slayer rode on a tide of tainted blood, destroying all that they were in their filthy, cruel world. Sleeping no more, he continued to kill.
The proof of his work was in the unthinking computer god that watched over the grim tidings. If he would, could they? They were more than capable given those black proceedings.

So much death, so much death on his hands.

He didn't stop till all were gone, with no signs of life left.

Standing in the hallway amongst the aftermath, he seemed not to notice what he'd done. Something changed in him, a flick of the switch and he was back in control.
He fell on his knees, the rage-filled creature vanishing from sight. The silver haired mercenary returned, breathing in and out quietly. He hung his head down, sweat dripping to the floor.

He stared at his shivering, blood-stained hands.

Humans did all this. . . Made these nightmares become reality. Humans?! The very beings that Dante had spent all his years defending with all of his might. . . Why?
The confusion washed away as fast as it appeared, holding back to not lose his mind completely. The slayer bared his teeth and he recalled his sword from where it was impaled on those people.

"Justice?" Dante flicked the blood off Rebellion, "What a joke."


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It was the afternoon, a kid dressed in red, sat alone on a bench. . . He was approached by a group of kids.

One of them spoke to him, and in that brief moment of distraction, one of the kids snatched his wallet and the group sprinted away.

"Give it back!" The kid in red shouted, he was able to keep up with his speed.

"Eat shit!" The other kid laughed raising it high in order to mock his smaller body. The kid was taken by surprise when he felt someone jump at him from behind.

A kid in black tackled him down to the ground.

"Give it back!" He yelled, much deeper than the other's.

The kid struggled with him, trying to knock him off, but without avail. He then returned his look to the kid in red, who was fighting off the other boys.

After a moment, he punched one of them out, then shoved the other back into the park's tree. He looked down to the other boy, and yelled out in anger.

"Twin freaks!" He spat, as he let go of the wallet.


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A young adult shot up in his bed screaming in the dark. He felt himself slip away, and his body became overheated.

Another woman laying next to him rose and held his shoulders, "Shhh, shhhh look at me! Look at me!"

He fought back her grip, with one thing on his mind, to jump through the window and run away.

"Look at me, Dante?" She spoke again, her black fringe meeting her moody eyes. The young man stared at her mismatched irises for a moment. "Take a deep breath. . . You can control it."
The young woman sharing his bed made sure he was breathing in and out, until he felt calm again.

"I know you miss him, it's common. Just remember in the back of your mind; He wasn't the same person. You're okay." Her red nails stroked his chin, and she soothed his chest.

Their lips locked, and he returned to rest with Lady while she comforted his emotions.


Dante stared at the corpses of those who deserved it, justified.

"It's my turn now." He said.

Though he stopped again, sensing something warm seep from his eyelids. He wiped his eyes to see what it was. . . "Am I crying?"

They were actual, warm tears washing away a fraction of the crimson from his palms.

Lady's words, he still remembered, ". . . Even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one, don't you think?"

He shook his head and focused on.


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"Move it now." Sergei spoke through the intercom, "You know your orders!"

Dante glanced to his right to see more armed humans arrive through the sealed door. They pointed their laser sights at him, all aiming for his chest. Dressed in black swat team gear, they shouted for him.

"Sir! Get down on the ground!"

He stood on his feet, and they opened fire into his chest. Spraying him with lead, the troupe emptied their entire chambers.
The slayer stood there and took it, forcing himself to stay put as they kept pumping him with shells. When they ran out, he just looked down at his chest.

"Are you ready?" Dante smirked, looking back up, "You're all going to die."

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Thank you for reading, I hope you liked this.

Special thanks to my beta reader Angel wolf