The Disclaimer: Capcom owns D & V.


Chapter 9

Meanwhile…

Vergil ran a hand through his hair as he pondered his further actions, standing at the spot which had been occupied by his brother before he drifted off. How could he fall asleep after everything that happened? The half-devil cursed under his breath and sank to the ground, leaning his back against the tree. Everything around was quiet as he mused over his options. He would proceed to the mountain and check if there were any buildings or settlements nearby. As soon as he found someone who walked on two limbs and had a tongue he would get the requisite information and get out of that godforsaken place. That was if they spoke any human language, of course, and had the adequate data. Vergil scowled. The more he thought about it, the more faults were revealed. Not to mention the fact that the idea of going all the way back was sickening him. Cutting a path through the tangles with all those snares alone wasn't the same as when he was accompanied by… Dante. He grimaced. That buffoon. He wondered if Dante managed to save that annoying human without getting himself…

He quickly put those thoughts out of his head. Why should he care? It was completely his brother's idea and whatever happened to him was totally the consequence of his restless actions. He even tried to dissuade him and that was already a great favor on his part.

Now Vergil had to wonder what he was thinking. Justifying himself? What for? There was nothing he could be blamed for. Oh, again. Damn it! He abruptly stood up and dusted off his coat before looking around for anything that could distract him from his thoughts.

He saw something glistening in the bushes and huffed as he realized that it was Rebellion. He neared the sword and pulled the tangles apart so he could have a better view of the weapon as it was half-concealed by the greenery. The sword was lying perpendicularly to the line of bushes around the clearing like an arrow, forming something akin to the shield and spear of the Roman god Mars that represented the male sex. Vergil scoffed at the sight and wondered whether he should take their father's sword with him. Why didn't Dante summon it?

His teeth clenched as he tried not to think of what it could mean. Perhaps he was intending to do it later or… Vergil screwed his eyes and leant slightly forward as he let his gaze dip further into the jungles where the sword was "pointing" to. A couple of meters away he saw one of his twin's beloved guns, which was lying in the straight line with the sword. Oh, he wasn't serious, was he?

Vergil shook his head and turned away from the bushes, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. His brother could be foolish but he had to admit that his interpretation of Grimm's fairytale was rather amusing. But his twin was wrong about one component of the composition. He was not going to play the part of Hansel or Grettel.

Did his brother believe he would follow that way so much he left his pistols behind? He refused to apprehend that. He turned his head to look down at the sword again as he tried to understand what reasons his twin had to rely on him. As he mulled it over he realized that the silence was beginning to get on his nerves, since no one filled the air with nonsensical questions… All right, that's enough. He was getting more and more irritated with himself as unwanted thoughts kept flooding his mind, distracting him from his purpose. Control. Control and concentration. He must find a way out and the sooner he did that the better. He needed to restore his mental equilibrium which cracked whenever Dante was around. He sighed as he made two decisions. First, he would keep all Dante-related thoughts off his mind and second – he would not go back. There should be another way out.

The sun was high in the sky and Vergil eased the cravat around his neck, his fingertips brushing against the metal underneath that remained cold all the time. Of course! His amulet was a ticket to..well, not the best of the places but surely with more options. But as he pulled the memento of his mother out and it scintillated in the sunlight, he was struck by the realization. He dropped his hands and stared before him stupidly while his mind was voicing profanities.

"Idiot!" He cursed. Why didn't he figure this earlier? How on Earth would he activate it without Dante's half of the amulet?! He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. Had Dante considered this possibility? Of course he had. That explained his absolute lack of care and calmness whenever the human spoke of their situation. Not that he ever showed seriousness but still… And the human kept Dante from using that option; because the mortal would die the instant they touched the Hell's grounds. Why hadn't he thought about it?

Vergil started to pace the clearing, rubbing his temples as he tried to think clearly. The rage was clouding his mind and he looked around for something to wreak his vexation on. Damn it all! Swinging his arm he smashed his fist into nearby tree, splinters flying in all directions.

Slight pain in his knuckles partly dispelled the eclipse and he took hold of the tree, pressing his forehead against the trunk. As much as the situation frustrated him, it also left him with only one option which meant he didn't need to make any decisions. "Looks like this is your lucky day, Dante." He muttered spitefully.

But then a crooked smile crept up his lips. Well, the only thing he needed was the amulet. There was no need to be in a hurry. He could take it from the corpse equally well.

He moved away from the tree and stepped into the jungles, his mood quickly brightening up. After eyeing his brother's weapons for a minute from different angles with his head cocked to the side, Vergil narrowed his eyes as a flashback sent him back in time to a small room with sunrays shining through the window, lighting up all the mess it was currently in.

Their summer camp was coming to an end and the twins were packing up their things as they waited for their parents. Well... one twin was packing whereas the other was loafing about somewhere out of Vergil's sight and the elder half-devil felt his irritation grow as he observed his brother's belongings scattered about the room. They would be gone in less than an hour but Dante didn't even show up! Did that moron expected that he would pick his things for him? Hanged if he would! Everything would be left as it was. But as he eyed the sketchbooks and pile of clothes on the bed he realized something that made him grind his teeth. If they left them here Dante would probably feel impudent enough to use his twin's things on returning. He could already see their mother scolding at him for not taking care of his younger brother and asking him to share his belongings until they bought Dante new ones. Damnation! A loud groan escaped him as Vergil grabbed his brother's sack and started to stuff his clothes into it, muttering obscenities and trying not to look at the dirty things he was touching.

As he picked another sock, his nose wrinkled in disgust, the door swung open and Dante came rushing in. Jumping on his bed so it squeaked in protest he looked at his brother curiously before noticing his packed sack.

"Wow, Verge." He exclaimed merrily as he put his hands under his head. "So attentive of you."

Vergil didn't reply as he straightened up, taking a disinfectant out of his pocket and pouring some on his palm. Dante propped himself up on his elbow as he watched his brother clean his hands before smirking mischievously.

"Hey, Vergil?" he called cheerfully. When his brother's cold gaze settled on him he continued. "Since you decided to do all my packing yourself, don't forget that shirt over the..Ah!!" he yelled as Vergil grabbed the sack and smashed him on the head without saying a word.

"Verge!.. Ooh!.. I was just jok.. Ah!" he yelped between hits trying to shield himself with his arms as Vergil bashed him repeatedly until the curator looked inside to tell them that their parents arrived and rushed to the boys to try and drag infuriated Vergil away from the "poor child".

Vergil grimaced and forced the memory away as he looked down at the sword. There was probably something in the air, he assumed as he picked Rebellion up, because it was messing with his head. Why was he doing all that? Well, he couldn't leave the memento of his father in some mid-world, could he? The thought suited him well.

Ebony was left lying in the grass until Vergil returned and tucked it in his belt, cursing all the way. He decided to do without any explanation for once.

In another ten meters Ivory joined its black twin. But then he saw something strange. A glove. Like that of a goalkeeper in hockey. Vergil frowned and proceeded with his "bread-crumbs" way, feeling like a complete idiot. Soon he found a cell phone. What the hell was going on? Obviously Dante was using the human's belongings but how? He doubted that Dante was freely throwing about things as they daggled him along. Then it popped up. The backpack! Vergil kicked the cell phone away and walked on, cutting the hanging lianas with Rebellion from time to time. Either Dante made a hole in the sack or he put it on upside down and left it open. A man of ideas, aren't you, brother? Who would have thought?

Suddenly a wave of anxiety washed over him and he stopped in his tracks, looking around to see if something nearby was causing it. But at the same time he knew that it had nothing to do with outside world. Strange feeling appeared in his hands, as if something was tightly wrapped around his wrists. Vergil dropped Rebellion and brought his hands up to see that they were slightly trembling. But the sensation died away as quickly as it appeared, leaving Vergil with unpleasant thoughts. He didn't like this. Never liked, mainly because it shattered his composure and affected his mind. If there was something he hated more than the fact of being related to this dimwit by blood, it was that obnoxious "twin-connection".

But it also meant that he didn't need those stupid made-up pointers to find him. And thanks to the connection he would literally feel when it was time to interfere. Or maybe just wait until it naturally died out.

***

Dante was eyeing the altar as the guards removed the loop from his neck, leaving restraints on his hands and taking their positions on either side of his kneeled form. He had seen a good amount of altars due to his kind of job and could say that this one had quite an awkward design. While its lower part was ordinary looking – table-like piece of stone – the upper part had the appearance of a smaller and reverse version of triumphal arch. The white stone was decorated with demonic symbols and ornaments but Dante paid little attention to its décor as his gaze moved to settle on the thing next to the altar. Oh, shit, he thought as he looked at the deadly construction. Guillotine. He swallowed as his demonic senses searched frantically for his brother's presence. No sign of it.

Dante wondered if he was completely wrong about his twin as one of the guards grabbed his chin from behind and forced his head back to press a dagger against his neck. It froze there, apparently waiting for a signal, nearly touching his skin.

"Huh?" Dante breathed out indignantly as he tried to move away. "Is that it? No ceremonies? No chants? What kind of ritual is that?!" He used to distract people with his chatter but how would he do that if they didn't understand him?!

Apparently he wasn't the only one dissenting with the guard's actions as he heard someone's angry voice from behind and in a moment the man let go of him, taking a step back. Dante let out a sigh of relief but in a second an elderly man with white and long hair stood in front of him, the same dagger clutched in his hand. So the joy was premature.

Dante tried to bend away from the dagger but instead of aiming at his neck the old man grabbed him by the shoulder and slashed his fore arm. The half-demon winced as the trickle of blood ran down his arm and into the bowl that appeared out of nowhere in the elder's other hand.

"What are you? Vampires?" He asked, looking down at the bowl which was quickly filling with his blood. He was tired of getting no answers. What was going on? Would he die in ignorance??

When the vessel was full the old men approached the altar and slowly poured the blood onto the round disk that was atop the altar among the candles and different stone idols. He emptied the bowl and returned to Dante, smiling down at him. His eyes widened as the man cuffed him slightly on the cheek and said something which sounded somewhat approvingly.

"Keep off, old man!" Dante growled as he jerked his head away. Not affected at all the aborigine kept smiling as he dropped his hand. He moved out of his sight and Dante looked at the altar as the air around the stone table began to light up with sparkles. A purplish smoke was spiraling upward from the center of the disk, forming a large cloud inside the reverse arch which was curving into a think circle, darkening towards the center.

"At last." Dante muttered as the surface of the circle became iridescent which indicated that it was a portal.

A dark demonic face was slowly emerging from the cloud, the expression on its ugly human-like face utterly haughty and sublime, red eyes shining with proud superiority. That was until the demon saw Dante. The half-demon burst out laughing as the demon widened his eyes in horror and quickly vanished into the portal. But apparently he recovered his wits as he showed his face again – with the same insolent expression, like nothing had happened.

"Well, well." Dante grinned, amused by his behavior. "I remember you! And looks like you haven't forgotten me either."

"The son of Sparda." The demon hissed as he appeared half-way from the portal, his scraggy greyish body floating above the altar. "What are you doing here?"

"That is what I wanted to ask you." Dante replied as he tried to remember what the source of his power was. "But we killed you, me and Lady, remember? How did you survive?"

"Well." The demon crossed his arms on his chest and smiled. Apparently he estimated the positions that they were in and was now enjoying the power he had over the half-devil. "Yes, you expelled me from your world but it does not mean I cannot exist in the other one, does it?"

"But what the hell is this?" Dante pointed at the altar and around him with his eyes. "You'd always been the lesser one. How did you create all this?"

"You would be surprised to know what blood and little worshipping can do, combined." The devil smirked. "It all started with a small group of starving people that asked for a harvest. They acceded to all of my terms and sacrificed one of them to get what they wanted, thus bringing the curse on this land and making me a sole master of this little world. I provided them with seeds but because of the draught the ground was cracked and hard like a stone. This place, however, was permeated with demonic energy and the human blood became a perfect catalyst."

"..You know what?" Dante asked as he put two and two together, remembering the baobab and imagining the people steep the seeds in blood. "That's totally fucked up."

"But as you may see it worked amazingly well." The demon smiled at his reaction as he went on with his narration. "In a while there was a dense and strong forest which was immune to any contagion. The destruction caused by termites healed long before the insects could grow hungry again. The only thing the woods needed was a nonstop delivery of victims as their life cycle was comparable to that of man. Besides, the rains were rare and they needed to be showered with something. So I decided to create several-.."

"Portals." Dante finished, glaring at him as the pieces of puzzles began to assemble into a freaky picture. "What happened to the traditional way of seducing the souls? Too lazy, aren't you?

"This is not solely about souls." The demon replied, irritated. "As I have said we need their bodies and blood to ensure the rich harvest for the locals."

"So you pick random people and kill them just like that?" Dante was beginning to feel nauseous. Everything around was soaked with blood. Trees, fruits, ground, even people. How could they eat something that grew from blood?

"Don't offend me by making such presumptions." The demon growled with sudden indignation. "Picking victims randomly is pure dilettantism. You could even say I'm doing your world a favor."

"Oh, really?" Dante scoffed. "Enlighten me then?"

"I rid it of desperate people, the ones out of spirits and bereft of hope. They are no good for society."

"Ah, now I remember. You were the demon of despondency." Dante finally remembered. He was one of the devils that were set free by Arkham among the other evil spirits during the events of Temen-ni-gru. He was lower than the commanders but higher than some of the Sins.

"Yes, and I still am." The demon spread his arms semi-apologetically before folding them again over his chest. "Even with that power I can't help myself. Despondency is a wonderful emotion – the most reckless acts are committed in that state because humans simply do not care. It is also a reason for numerous suicides which replenish the stock of souls in the Underworld."

Dante pondered the received information for a moment.

"This is all very nice, but there's a fault in your cranky formula." He said as the demon raised his brows expectantly. "What am I doing here?"

The demon cocked his head to the side as he eyed the kneeled half-devil with curiosity.

"Right, Dante. What are you doing here?" he echoed calmly, his gaze moving up and sideways as if he was remembering something. "Ah." He looked down at the half-demon, a knowing smile forming on his lips.

Dante frowned as he stared at the demon in confusion.

"Tell me, Dante," The demon paused and looked at the half-demon whose eyes widened as he finished his question.

"Why were you drinking that night?"