Hello, thank you to all who reviewed and read! Again, all are welcome to comment. I love feedback (don't be shy). I really hope you enjoy this next chapter.
The city stretched into the night like a tapestry woven of shadowed cement and flickering lights. Businesses had shut their doors and residents had settled in for the night to await the next day of work and school. Vergil searched the sky, finding only a pale moon and faded stars. His feet dangled over the edge of roof over the dark alley below. Though he was like the many others still awake, he felt separate and distinct, as if the tiny building he perched upon was a mountain staring down at the small humans below. His eyes wondered into the distance with some small hope that he could see her despite the foolishness of it.
He turned his head slightly when he heard a loud grunt. Dante pulled himself up through the small hatch that led to the roof and walked to the edge, peering over with his brother.
"Hey, man," he said. "Not thinking about jumping are you?"
Vergil only glowered at the attempt at a joke. "What do you want?"
"I thought you might want to talk. That's usually what emotional adjusted people do. I know it's a little unusual for us, but I think we should give it shot," Dante said and sat down on the edge next to him. Vergil sighed, realizing he would never leave him alone with his thoughts.
"She has no idea what she is facing. Demons could just tear through her and Mundus…he would crush her with just a thought. She's weak," Vergil said.
"Of course she has no idea. She didn't go what we went through. We were nine when our childhood ended. She'll get stronger, just be patient," Dante said, nudging him slightly with his elbow.
"Dante you don't understand," Vergil said softly, turning to his brother. "I can't bury my child, but I can't protect her forever."
His words hung heavy in the air, thickening the silence around them. Dante sighed and nodded.
"You're right. Now I know you tend to show you care through anger and small amounts of violence, but I don't think that is going to work for teaching her," he said.
"All this thinking about her feelings. Demons don't care," Vergil scoffed.
"Mom cared. I remember you two talking all the time about everything under the sun. You told her every single thought and feeling you had and she listened. Persephone is exactly like you, without the cold and jaded exterior," Dante replied. Vergil smiled slightly as he remembered his conversations with his mother. They would curl up on the porch swing and talk for hours until the sun disappeared behind the horizon.
"I don't know how to teach her. We already knew how to use a sword when we were children. It was natural for us to be warriors. Why isn't it like that for her?"
Dante laughed loudly, his voice echoing off the walls of the alley. A light flickered on from a nearby building as the sound settled. Vergil lifted an eyebrow towards his brother as he wiped away a tear.
"Verg, hell fried your brain. There was no we exactly. Things were completely different for the two of us. I picked fights, you picked up a book. I recall fighting my way through the streets and that was how I learned: by getting the crap beat out of me. You were always methodical, looking for the perfect technique. But the best teaching tool was having a reason to do it all. Help her find her reason to fight. That's what dad always taught us," Dante said. Vergil looked at his brother, a half grin playing on his face.
"You are, on great occasion, incredibly insightful," Vergil complimented. Dante shrugged and cracked his knuckles.
"Well, I am the smart one and the better looking one," he said. "Come on. You can have the couch while you're in the doghouse."
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The small, gold cylinder rolled around in his palm as he examined it. It was completely sealed, appearing without any seams despite something rattling inside.
"What is it?" Mark asked, closing his fingers around it.
"That's for me to know and you to not ask," Cyrus replied. They were inside the office overlooking the warehouse. Cyrus had set up a small bed in the corner and filled the walls of the room with maps and photos with a single laptop glowing in the center of it all. Sitting prominently next to the computer was a handgun and a large curved dagger that had been blessed long ago for the purpose of killing demons. Cyrus never let it out of his sight.
"So what do you want me to do?" Mark asked, frustrated with the older man's silence.
"You need to make a copy of the lock. Remember how to do that?" Cyrus said, lifting up a glass of dark liquid and taking a swig.
Mark looked at him out of the corner of his eye, catching the strong scent of liquor. "I do. How am I supposed to do this without getting killed?"
"Keep getting close to the girl, Romeo. If she thinks you're just some hapless teenage boy falling for her charms she won't be suspicious and you can find an opening. You are just another soul she is corrupting. But don't let it go too far and steer clear of the other demons," Cyrus said and winked quickly. He held out his hand and Mark placed the gold cylinder in it.
"You mind explaining this master plan since I am risking my life and immortal soul," Mark asked.
"Nope. The less you know the better. You can't spoil the plan if you don't know it," Cyrus replied.
"Why don't I just kill her? She's leaving ample opportunity."
"You wouldn't be able to kill her," Cyrus murmured, leaning over his laptop and pressing a few keys. "She's not some weakling like you're used to. I know of these demons. They aren't a joke. Speaking of which, when was the last time you hunted a demon?"
"Too busy with flirting and homework," Mark scoffed. "Apparently, now my ample skills are only good for lock picking."
"Don't feel bad kiddo. You're the only one I trust not get caught up in her or just blow it by freaking out. Now get out. I have work to do," Cyrus said, looking up with a hard stare.
Mark threw up his arms in defeat and stormed out. There were times he hated Cyrus and his pedantic manner. This wasn't the first time he threw them into a situation with only vague orders. The plans turned out, but someone always ended up getting hurt. He climbed the short steps to the gangway overlooking the warehouse and walked to edge, as far away as possible from his companions. He leaned over the railing and sighed heavily, closing his eyes.
His thoughts were moving too fast and he couldn't seem to grip one before another one pushed its way forward. Cyrus, Persephone, the entire situation was too complicated. Things were simpler when it was one demon and a gun, no scheming and no lying. He fought many demons in his short life, each one without question. When did they start posing as families? When did it all get too damn confusing?
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Mark looked up from his reverie. Jon smiled at him in his usual devil-may-care way. He could almost envy his friend's ability to just go with the flow, the way nothing seemed to stun him.
"I see you had a riveting conversation with Cyrus," Jon said and leaned on the railing next to Mark.
"I suppose you could call it that," Mark said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So tell me that Cyrus has told you something."
"Nah, man. He wouldn't tell me anything. You seem really tense. More so than the usual Cyrus tense."
"I can't figure this whole thing out," Mark said, slamming his hands down on the railing. "What is the end game? Why are they pretending to be a family? Why go to high school? It just doesn't make any sense."
"Who knows, they're demons. Their only motivation is to be evil. They probably use the kids to lure them in and then, I don't know corrupt them? Steal their souls? Isn't that what teenage girls are good for?" Jon said with a laugh.
Mark just shook his head. "We have no victims. I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary, and none of people around them are acting strange."
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he quickly checked the text. Can you meet me? Please. He furtively placed the phone back in his pocket, keeping his face calm.
"Dude, they are demons. You know that they are, Cyrus knows about them, the stone glowed red. What does it matter what they want as long as they end up dead?" Jon said, firmly.
"I don't know…" Mark murmured.
Jon smacked Mark's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Don't tell me you are second guessing."
Mark pushed off the railing and walked a few steps from his friend. "Yes, I am having doubts," he said then turned back towards Jon. "What if we don't have the full story about this? If we are wrong, then we are just as bad as they are."
Jon grabbed Mark roughly by the shoulders. "I'm your best friend, so I know you are just thinking too much about this. They are devils and that is it. Devils are evil and need to be exterminated. You know that, so don't forget it no matter how cute this chick is."
Mark sighed and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I just think too much and they are damn convincing."
"Good, glad I could set you straight. Now don't worry about me telling anyone about this. Without you I'm out a wing man and that just will not fly," Jon said and patted him on the shoulder.
Mark stepped out of his friend's grasp and started towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Jon called.
Mark turned slightly and kept walking. "Hunting. Got to get my head straight."
He quickly descended the stairs and walked across the warehouse, avoiding eye contact with any of the group milling around. Rose sat with the others eating their various forms of takeout. Mark opened the door and stepped through as quietly as possible without looking like he was hiding. Parked out front were several rusted pick-up trucks and SUVs and a large van parked next to Cyrus's motorcycle. He clambered into the black SUV and put the keys in the ignition before pulling out his phone. Where? he typed and sent then awaited the response. Buzz. Stonearch Park. He turned the key and the engine sputtered to a start.
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It had started to rain as she waited on the park bench. Her white hair was plastered down the side of her face and her t-shirt and black pants were soaked through. She clutched her arms across her chest and shuddered as the goose bumps crawled up to her neck. The rain had stopped, but a cold wind continued to blow, tossing up droplets from the trees surrounding her.
"Ok Persephone. Next time you storm out, be sure to bring a jacket," she whispered. The park she had chosen was a tiny wooded square near the edge of downtown. No one had walked by on the sidewalk since she had settled there. They had the common sense not to go rushing out into the night. Everything was eerily still after the rain, and she had the brief fantasy that the word had suddenly become empty.
She knew it was late, and as the minutes passed by, she wondered if Mark would show up. Slowly, she shook her head wondering how she could be so stupid. Guys don't rushing out into a stormy night to meet odd, emotional girls they hardly knew. Burying her face into her hands, she sighed heavily still shaking from the cold. The rumble of engine from the road reached her ears and her head shot up. A black truck pulled up along the street and parked. The door opened and Mark stepped out and walked around the front.
Persephone stood up as he trotted up to her. He wore a black shirt and jeans, looking like the first time she had met him. His eyes were wide with bewilderment and what she hoped was worry.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked, spreading his arms. There was a lightness in his voice and Persephone felt her body relax.
"You came. I can't believe you actually did. I mean, you hardly know me so why would you bother? I know I should have contacted someone else…but for some reason I needed to see you," she said hurriedly.
He walked up to her and placed his hands on her bare arms. They were hot against her frigid skin. "It's ok. I wanted to come. Are you alright?"
Persephone shook her head, feeling the tears press against her eyes. She quickly sat down on the bench. "No. I'm not."
Mark sat down on next her, the wooden bench sighing a little from the extra weight. Warmth radiated from him and she wanted nothing more than to lean against him to feel more of it. She sighed heavily.
"You want to talk about it?" he finally asked.
"Things are such a mess," she breathed. Every single thought was pushing against her brain, begging to be said. "I have no idea what I am doing and I'm just pissing off everyone around me because I can't my shit together."
"What happened?" he asked, his eyes steady on her face, confusion floating in their depths. She watched him, looking for any sign of what he was thinking.
"I'm sorry; I just dragged you out here for an emotional breakdown," she said ashamed that she had even asked him to meet her. As his fingers intertwined with hers, she looked up to see only worry in his stare.
"Like I told you, I wanted to come," he said with a slight smile. She closed her eyes and turned away, but could not prevent a few hot tears escaping down her cheeks.
"I am such a mess," she whispered. "Everything has fallen apart and I don't know what to do."
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Persephone looked up and over the empty park. The darkness had reached its peak, tucking the world into silence and sleep. "My dad keeps pushing me towards something I don't want, but I can't get rid of. It's going to be a part of my life no matter what I do. I just want things to be like they were. To make sense again."
"So how did you end up out here? Your parents are probably worried," Mark said softly.
The image of her father's angry face pushed its way to the front of her thoughts and she shuffled her feet uncomfortably. "I may have yelled at my dad. But he just keeps pushing and pushing and not listening to me."
"What would you tell him if you could?"
Persephone looked down at her feet, her shoes slightly muddied. All her rebelling against what he wanted, did she really know why?
"I would tell him that I'm afraid of being someone else. I feel like I'm fading away and all they want is to replace me with a stranger. They want me to be someone, but I want to be person I should be and they don't mesh," she explained. The entire situation sounded alarmingly pathetic even though she was living it.
Mark shrugged. "Why don't you just try being Persephone?"
She turned her head towards him, confusion written across her brow. Mark chuckled when he saw her face.
"You didn't seem to have a problem just being you or saying exactly what you thought. Remember the first thing you said to me? I knew after that we would be friends. So instead of trying to be what your parents want or what you think you should be, try just being who you are right now," he said.
The advice was simple, but his words cut through the clutter in her head like knife through water. She had spent her entire life building up the person she thought she should be. The person she felt the world would embrace. Did she ever stop to wonder if that was actually the person who would make her happy?
"You seem to have a lot of insight into this," she said. He let go of her hand and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Really, I'm just a hypocrite. When you are keeping silent, you have a lot of time to think about these things," he replied.
"So what is it that you want?" she asked. He looked at her, his expression indecipherable. The space between them grew heavy as she waited for his answer.
"You. Right now, all I want is you," he said. Persephone's heart beat faster like it would tear itself in two. One part of her wanted to bring him closer; the other wanted him to run away. He had no idea and she could never let him know.
"You don't want me. I have something no one would want," she said, feeling the tears well up in her eyes.
He shook his head in confusion, his eyes heavy with rejection. "What could it possibly be?"
"Do you believe in devils?" she asked and immediately regretted it. He jerked backwards like he had been slapped.
"What do you mean?" he asked slowly, narrowing his eyes.
"No, not devils. I mean evil. Do you believe that there are bad things out there and just bad things in people? Those ugly things out in the world that you can't control," she asked. She didn't know how he would react to the question, but she needed to know the answer.
"I do. Why are you asking?" He asked, his eyes searching her face.
"I asked because there's something wrong with me. Something bad," she confessed.
He reached up and gently grasped her face between his calloused hands, forcing her to stare at him. His brown eyes stared deeply into hers as if trying to dredge up some secret from inside of her. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and she shuddered at the touch.
"Persephone, are you evil?" he whispered. His eyes continued to bore their way into her, worried and pleading. Her entire body shook as she tried to answer, the tears now falling freely. She didn't feel evil, but she could feel it inside of her. Devils were supposed to be the essence of all things bad in the world, but all she felt like was a scared girl.
"No and I don't want to be," Persephone answered, shaking her head. The relief that radiated from him was nearly palpable, washing over her in a gentle wave.
The silent acknowledgement was instantaneous and the tension between them was obliterated. They flowed together, his warm lips pressing against her trembling ones. For the briefest moment, her heart stopped as the world dissolved into that single moment that had waited far too long for its realization. His arm wrapped around her waist and she moved closer, letting him break away to kiss her cheek and then her neck. She closed her eyes to enjoy the rush of blood to the places his lips touched. He stopped and looked at her with the same soulful brown eyes she had dreamt about so many times. She leaned forward and kissed him again, soft and chastely. Her blood was singing and every fiber of her being was begging her for more, but she pulled away and rested her forehead against his. He breathed heavily, his hands gripping her waist tightly.
"You know my mom always told me to never kiss a man after you have been crying," Persephone said.
"Why is that?" he laughed.
"To make sure you don't make bad decisions," she replied, gently stroking his hair. "Don't take this the wrong way."
She reluctantly scooted away from him. He held on for a moment before releasing her, and she immediately missed the feeling of his hands. Mark smiled.
"You are good at making things tense," he said with a chuckle. She laughed at her own words repeated back to her.
"There are so many things I want right now. But I need to take care of home," she said. "Thank you."
"Do you want a ride home?" he asked as she stood up.
"Getting in the car with you would probably be one of those bad decisions," she said with a sly smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Persephone bit her lip and forced herself to turn away, regretting each step that took her further away from him. But she needed to go home and face her father while she still had the courage.
#################################
Mark didn't move as he watched her walk away. Every movement of her arm and sway of her hips engrained themselves into his brain. She was ethereal, too beautiful to be just human. His heart still pounded in his chest even when she rounded the corner and was gone. The park was silent and lifeless, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away, but instead relished the cool breeze and the lingering taste of her on his lips.
"Well done."
Mark jumped at the sound of the voice behind him and spun around. Cyrus stepped out from behind the trees, followed by Jon.
"Cyrus," he said, dumbstruck. "You followed me?"
"Jon said you went hunting. Didn't know what kind it would be," Cyrus said with a smile and took the spot on the bench where Persephone was. "Nicely played by the way."
"Why didn't you just kill her," Jon demanded angrily.
"Because I told him not to," Cyrus snapped.
"Why would you do that?" Jon exclaimed angrily.
"Ants. They are like ants. If they catch wind of one of their own dead, they will swarm and we won't have a chance. We get them at once or we don't get them at all," Cyrus explained and returned his gaze to Mark. "So how was it?"
A pit formed in Mark's stomach as he sat under Cyrus' hard gaze. He wondered what the older man had saw of their encounter, or more importantly, what he thought of it. Mark carefully picked through possible answers, trying to figure out what would be close enough to the truth to sound convincing.
"It was…tense," he said. Cyrus stared at him for a brief moment longer before laughing, but the smile never reached his eyes.
"Don't worry so much about it," Cyrus said, clapping Mark on the shoulder. "She's convincing, even had me fooled for a few moments. Don't be ashamed for feeling a little something."
"I didn't feel anything," Mark said. He saw Jon raise his eyebrow over Cyrus' shoulder.
Cyrus just shook his head, clearly unconvinced. "Well, good self-control than. But trust me when I say to be careful. These guys aren't to be fooled around with."
"Do you mind imparting your wisdom upon us and explaining how you know all this?" Mark asked coolly.
"I know that her uncle and father nearly leveled an entire city, and I know that they will do it again. I don't know what they are planning, but I'm not waiting around to find out. Demons don't form happy families. They have one goal in mind; destroying humans. Demons are evil and we do the world a favor by wiping them off the earth," Cyrus said, sneering at whatever memory he possessed.
Mark breathed in deeply. Demons are evil, he thought. The words were true, but they felt like he was telling himself a lie. He knew she was demon, but couldn't grasp the image of it when she was crying in the middle of the night. Cyrus watched him with cold eyes and Mark nodded.
"Demons are evil. I know that lesson," Mark said, grasping onto the image of his parents. Cyrus nodded, at least pretending to be convinced.
##################################
Persephone regretted not taking Mark up on his offer for a ride about two miles into her journey home. She forgot her wallet, her bus pass, and her money during her storm out of her uncle's shop and was left to trek home on foot. The night grew increasingly chilly as she walked, so she kept increasing her pace to maintain some body heat. After crossing the bridge that connected downtown to the residential neighborhoods, everything grew hushed, as if the world was awaiting the storm that would arrive when she returned home.
The houses were quiet and dark, their inhabitants well into their slumbers. Persephone briefly wondered what time it was and what someone would think of her walking the streets at night. She scoffed at the thought. What could it possibly matter what they thought? She increasingly wondered how much of her time was spent on contemplating what others thought of her. Mark's advice flitted across her mind and she stood a little taller as she walked. To hell with the world.
The memory of their kiss still lingered on her lips. She touched them briefly with cold fingers and smiled. As she was lost in her thoughts, she walked the way home automatically. Suddenly, she caught a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. Her head snapped towards it and she expected to see her father. Instead, there was only a hedge with nothing spectacular hidden in its branches. Even so, she quickened her pace to her home, soon coming to her street. When she spied her house she began jogging, stealing glances behind her until she arrived in her front yard.
Everything was dark and still. For a brief second she was offended that no one was there to yell at her. What she had expected was her father to be sitting on the front stoop, glowering at her arrival. She imagined the look on his face and shivered as she walked up to the front door. Bracing herself, she opened the front door slowly and stepped inside.
As she closed the door, she caught the scent of cigarette smoke. A single red amber danced in front of her on the steps.
"Welcome home," her mother said. Persephone's eyes adjusted to the dark and she could make out her mother sitting third step. Persephone reached for the light switch next to the door and flicked on the lights of the foyer. Her mother squinted with the sudden brightness and flicked some ash into a cup sitting on the steps next to her.
"Mom, you smoke?" Persephone exclaimed. It wasn't exactly the first words she was planning on saying, but the oddity of the situation required a deviation from her planned spiel.
"I used to before you were born. Honestly, your father couldn't have been happier when I was forced to quit. However, I felt tonight warranted a return of a bad habit. This one at least, not my other bad habits," her mother said with a smile and raised the cigarette to her lips again.
"What other bad habits?" Persephone asked warily.
"Sex and drugs," her mother said flatly and flicked away more ash. "Why don't you sit down."
Persephone remained standing. "Where's dad?"
"He is staying with your uncle tonight," her mother replied with a sigh. "I'm not going to yell at you, so please sit down."
With a wary look, Persephone took a seat next to her mother on the stairs. They sat in silence for a few minutes, her mother taking slow drags of her cigarette while Persephone wrinkled her nose at the smell. The lack of conversation became unbearable.
"He hurt me," Persephone finally said. Her mother nodded.
"I know he did."
"I'm just a big disappointment to him," Persephone replied softly.
"You're not a disappointment," her mother said, shaking her head. "He's scared for you. Not to say that he was justified, just that he isn't very good at expressing himself."
"I've never even seen a demon before. You say it is so dangerous but nothing has ever hurt me," Persephone said almost unable to believe their claims.
Her mother dropped the remainder of her cigarette into the cup and turned her back to Persephone. She slowly pulled off her shirt and Persephone gasped. Her mother had always covered herself up with long sleeves and high collars out of what Persephone assumed was a strange prudishness. In that reveal, she realized it was to hide the deep scars crossing her back. They were thick and raised, leaving almost every surface marred. Her mother turned around and revealed four scars in a perfect diamond in the middle of her chest. Her face was calm as she covered herself again with her shirt.
"The danger is very real. I wasn't even a devil, didn't even believe they existed. Yet they still found me. You have enjoyed safety because we have done everything we can to keep them away. But we can't stop them forever," she said simply. Persephone tried to steady her beating heart from her mother's calm reveal. It was like she was explaining the ingredients of a casserole; completely devoid of any attachment. What she wanted was for her to yell because Persephone had the perfect response to that reaction. Instead, she wasn't sure what to say to her mother's simple statement of facts.
"I'm sorry that happened to you," Persephone whispered.
Her mother only shrugged. "I stopped having nightmares a long time ago. Everything is simply what it is."
"Mom, I don't think I want to be like dad. I just want to hide it and go back to my life," Persephone blurted, unable to contain it.
Her mother looked her in the eye, the green of her irises were a stark contrast from the demonic essence around them.
"Think hard about this. Here are the simple truths. You are part devil and that will always be there. You have Sparda's blood, so demons will always hate you and will one day come after you. Your father, your uncle, all of your family, we will always be a part of the world, so will you because of it." Her mother placed a hand over hers. "However, you are allowed to make your own decisions. That is your right as a human. I'm not going to force anything upon you, but you will have to live with the consequences. That includes being the one to tell your father."
Persephone looked at her feet as the words sank in. "He's going to be mad."
"Well, you are smashing the dream he had since you were born. He still believes he can shape you into some great ideal that he has. It was never going to happen, but doesn't mean he wasn't to try," her mother replied.
"Are you angry?" Persephone asked.
"I'm surprised. You were never one to run away from a challenge. But, I can understand because it was all I wanted for a long time. Not angry though," she answered with a soft smile.
Persephone laughed. "You know. I was super pissed at you for keeping it a secret. Now I am super pissed for knowing about it and at dad for pushing it."
"It's called being a teenager. If you're not mad at someone then you are doing it wrong," her mother said and stood up. "Wait here. I have a gift for you."
She ran into the living room and as Persephone waiting, hearing the sounds of rustling and a brief thud and curse. Her mother emerged from the other room with a large leather book in hand and presented it to Persephone. She took it gingerly from her mother's hands and opened it to the first page. It was a drawing of man who looked awfully like her father, all dressed in purple.
"It's your grandfather. Artist rendering of course, but as close as I could get with descriptions," her mother said excitedly.
"He looks just like dad," Persephone said with a small smile. Just like me.
"I know. It's those damn Sparda genes. You think at least one of my children could be short or a red head. You're like a tiny clone army," her mother said with a frown.
"What is it exactly?" Persephone said, examining the picture closely.
"It's a memoir, or a grimoire if you prefer, of everything. My story, your father's, grandma and grandpa on both sides. It's not done yet because I'm still missing your uncle and your aunt's stories. But there's the entire story of me and your father. I was hoping this might help you answer some questions," her mother explained.
"I'll take good care of it," Persephone promised and tucked it against her chest. "I think I'm going to go to bed now."
"Ok. I'll see you in the morning," her mother said. Persephone stood up and climbed the stairs with book in hand. In her room, she stared at the leather bound, family history feeling the urge to open it. Instead, she placed it on her desk, changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. She was warm again, and felt her eyes grow heavy. Everything still lay in pieces, but she at least knew where a few of them lay in the puzzle of her life. As she drifted into sleep, she returned to the park and Mark holding her tightly in the darkness.
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Mara's dreams were silent, devoid of his presence. All she saw were the random images generated by her human brain. She searched for him amongst the corridors of her mind, only to find loneliness. A single loud ring ripped her from her search and she opened her eyes. The room was dark; morning had not yet decided to arise from its slumber. The bed was uncomfortably hot and she groaned as she sat up. She grabbed the phone from the nightstand and sleepily brought it to her ear.
"This is Mara," she said, her voice dry and gruff.
"It's Cyrus," the heavy male voice responded.
"Cyrus. Why the hell are you calling?" she snapped.
"Things are getting tense for my group. They won't be sitting idly forever and neither will I. I need to know that you are going to have everything in place," Cyrus said.
"Cyrus, I am aware that patience is not a virtue of yours, but keep it fucking together. I will tell you when you can attack as soon as things are ready. Unless you want to face Vergil and Dante? In which case, I will just sit back a watch," she said coldly.
"What can possibly be taking you so long?" he said after a long pause.
"In order to destroy one's enemies completely, patience is needed. Don't worry about what I am doing," she snapped and hung up the phone. Her hand shook as she dropped it on the nightstand. Rage surged through every fiber of her body and she gripped the edge of the bed tightly as if it would prevent her from flying off into a million pieces. This was not what she intended. Everything was so clear a few months before, and now all she could do was wait and hope she was correct.
A small blue mist slipped into the room from between the window sill. It hovered in front of her as a shapeless mass. She sneered at the demon.
"Which one are you?" she asked.
"I am the third eye," it whispered.
"What news do you have about the excavation?" Mara demanded, rubbing her forehead. It was such a worthless action, but she never been able to break the habit.
"They dug up the final location. There is nothing mistress," it whispered.
Mara released the bed and shot up. "How fucking hard is this?" she screamed.
The blue demon seemed to waver. She knew it didn't understand; it was nothing more than a pawn of its master. With a growl, she swiped her hand through its misty blue form, dispersing it into a million particles that simply reformed around her arm.
"We know that goddamn tomb is there. Why can't we find it?" she hissed, clutching her pounding head. She paced the room, trying to gain control of herself. Everything began to spin and she slumped against the bed, laying her head against the cover.
"Father, why have you forsaken me," she sobbed. With every shuddered breath, tears flowed down her cheeks. Silently, she begged for him to hear her, reaching deep into her soul where he resided. She was met with only silence. Slowly, the realization that he was not listening began to harden her resolve. She wiped the tears away from her cheeks and stood up. He hadn't forsaken her; she had failed him with her pathetic human need for his guidance. Her weakness was showing, and all could see it.
"Tell your master I'm returning," she said. The blue demon floated between the window sill and out into the night. Mara began packing her things into a small suitcase.
"I need a heart of stone. Patience. My time will come," she said as she folded her clothing.
Good girl, whispered from the depths of her soul. His almighty voice resonating through every vein.
#####################################
Vergil had found Mundus. He had taken the form of Dante's couch in order to destroy them vertebrae by vertebrae. How Dante and the girls had managed to still take naps on the godforsaken thing, Vergil had no idea. As soon as he had sat up, he heard the crack of his back snapping back into place after a restless night. While trying to fall asleep, he tried to decipher his daughter's mind to figure out how he could make her listen to him. Just before sleep took him, the idea sprung to mind and he could have kicked himself it was so simple. It seemed his family was right about one thing; he did think far too deeply.
Before anyone else at Devil May Cry awoke, Vergil had slipped away and into the early afternoon light. He wanted to run and stretch to relieve the pain in his back, but daytime was the human domain and a mysterious man running across rooftops would arise suspicion. So he walked home instead, feeling out of place. It had been a long time since he was out at this time of day. Nighttime hunting required mornings be used for sleeping and he usually did not emerge until early evening. But the sun was warm on his face and he began to remember the many walks he took with Persephone and the boys when they were babies. Yamato's light jingle accompanied him on his walk and he was surprised to catch himself smiling slightly.
Soon the house came into view and the pleasantness of the afternoon quickly dissipated. Evangeline was inside; he could sense her moving around. This was the first occasion she had ever kicked him out of the house, and despite their many years together, he couldn't quite figure out he was supposed to approach her. He scoffed at his hesitation. It was his home and he had a right to it, angry woman or no. Vergil marched up the walkway and to the front door. He halted with his hand on the knob as the door swung open to reveal Evangeline standing there. She crossed her arms, her eyes as steely as his own.
"Good morning," she said calmly. Vergil glared at her and stood up straight.
"Good morning," he replied just as coolly. They waged a silent battle of wills, neither one willing to blink. Vergil wondered if he could simply set her aside and go ahead with the hot shower he was planning.
"How was Dante's couch?" Evangeline asked. He could see the brown demonic essence flicking around her eyes.
"It was the best sleep I've had in a long time," he lied.
"So that's how you're going to play this. Not that you missed me or that you acted like a total jackass?" Evangeline said with one eyebrow raised.
Vergil sighed and unwound her arms to grab his lover's hand. The surprised look on her face was almost worth the belittling he was going to put himself through.
"I did not act appropriately. I am sorry. May I please come in," he said through gritted teeth. Evangeline threw back her head and laughed then pulled him inside.
"Oh, did you pop a blood vessel saying that?" she said between giggles. She wrapped her hands around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder. He would never admit it, but she wasn't too proud to say she missed him during the night. After she had gotten her fill of feeling his heartbeat against her cheek she stepped away.
"Is Persephone alright?" he asked, looking over Evangeline's shoulder to see if his daughter was inside.
"She is. Made it home late, but intact. She's at school," Evangeline replied. Vergil sighed, secretly relieved that he didn't have to face her just yet.
"Teenagers are complicated," he said. "But I know how to make this better."
Evangeline gave him a skeptical look. "You do realize emotional problems involve actually talking and reaching a mutually beneficial conclusion, right?"
Vergil smiled and leaned down, kissing her gently. He caught the faintest taste of nicotine on her lips. "Don't worry. I try not to make the same mistakes," he said and kissed her quickly one last time before heading up to the study.
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"Persephone, are you listening?"
Persephone blinked and remembered Jay was sitting in front of her. He wore a pair of bright purple sunglasses which he pulled down his nose to stare at her. She had spent the majority of lunch looking around the quad for any sign of Mark but had come up short. Her friends had continued their conversations without her, only snippets occasionally reaching her awareness.
"Honestly, I wasn't listening," Persephone sighed. She couldn't help but to dread that she had done something wrong. Maybe he was only being nice the night before and had realized after she left how bizarre the situation was. Honestly, she wouldn't blame him for thinking that way.
"You look like shit again," Jane said.
"I didn't get a lot of sleep," Persephone yawned then took a bite of her sloppily made peanut butter and jelly.
"But you're coming to practice tonight right? Totally heard someone made some choreography for Crazy in Love," Jay said excitedly.
"What's Crazy in Love?" Mary Ann asked.
"Even I know that song and I don't listen to the radio," Persephone said with a laugh.
"Well, polka is prominent in my house," Mary Ann replied.
"So are you coming?" Sarah asked. Persephone bit her lip. Though she felt determined the night before to set the demon aside, actually making the decision to go to practice instead of training with her father made her falter. It was the first step in whatever journey was embarking upon. She remembered her father's angry face and her wrist ached with the memory. To hell with him, she thought.
"I'll be there," she said just as the bell rang. Persephone spared one last glance through the quad before gathering her things and heading to her next class. She sat her chin on her hands and listened to her economics professor discuss supply side models.
It was funny to her, apparently demons were real but they somehow were never brought up in her classes: an entire history that somehow the world was ignorant of. It was a history that ran through her veins. Her grandfather had saved humanity from certain destruction, yet he was never spoken of in class. There was no holiday for him, save for a legend hardly told anymore. It made her sad to think that he was forgotten. Even she didn't know of him only a few weeks ago. Yet her father and uncle walked around with the truth and the memory of him heavy around their necks, but only demons would ever care.
Persephone was called upon to draw a model but was spared with the sound of the bell. She walked quickly down the hall, nodding to Caleb as he passed, and stopped short of her chemistry classroom. She didn't know if she should enter and wait, or make a slight entrance when he arrived. What would she even say?
This is desperate, and a little creepy. Definitely not attractive, she thought. She shouldn't have called him, shouldn't have told him all those things. She sighed and entered the classroom. Their fertilizer had arrived and she joined another group to work on it. Half way through, she realized he wouldn't be coming and lost all focus, allowing her partners to finish the lab with her barely present.
But he kissed me, she thought. Class ended with the sound of the bell and she walked into the hallway and leaned against the wall. A hand slid into hers and she shot off the wall. Mark laughed and brought her fingers to his lips.
"Waiting for me?" he asked. She blushed wildly at his observation.
"No," she said, drawing out the vowel. "Ok, maybe."
"Sorry to keep you waiting. I had a late night," he said with a smile.
"I'm really sorry about that," she groaned.
"I told you already, I wanted to be there. How did things go at home?" he asked and started walking towards the classroom, still holding her hand.
"My dad wasn't home, so not yet resolved," she said. She caught the eye of a few students who were staring at two of them holding hands as they walked. Several whispers had already started circulating. Persephone felt embarrassed for a moment before shaking it off. They knew nothing and could do nothing. There was no use in worrying.
"So why weren't you in class?" she asked. Mark ran his free hand through his hair and smiled mischievously.
"Well, I may have not done the homework and didn't want to bother," he replied.
Persephone stopped and lightly poked him in the chest. "I don't believe you have done any work since you have been here. How did you even get into this school?"
"I have a good friend. Besides, once you get kicked out of every other school, someone has to take you," he replied.
Persephone shook her head. "I feel like there is a long story behind this. You missed learning about fertilizer by the way."
"Fertilizer contains around 8% phosphorous and can be used to make bombs," he rattled off the facts quickly with a cryptic smile.
"That was not what I was expecting you to say," she said slowly.
"Anarchist street school, remember?" he said with a laugh. "I actually have a friend whose hobby is chemistry."
"So you hardly attend class and never do your homework. What do you plan on doing with your life?" she asked. It was like speaking to an alien. The thought of cutting out on school never crossed her mind and most of her friends felt were the same way. His reasons were an irresistible mystery.
Mark only shrugged. "You know, we should go on an actual date so I can answer all these burning questions."
Persephone looked up and stopped at the door to her next class. "Alright, but I have to go to class and I have practice tonight. I'll text you. But can you do me one favor?"
"I have a feeling I won't like it," he said.
"Go to class. Just one at least," she requested. He wrinkled his nose and frowned, as if he had just ate something unpleasant. Then he quickly kissed the back of her hand and bowed awkwardly.
"As you wish. But don't expect that I will continue this trend," he said and dropped her hand, his fingers trailing lightly across her palm as he did. She smiled and waved before entering her classroom and taking her seat. From her bag, she pulled out her notes from yesterday's class that were pathetically lacking. As she browsed them quickly she heard a loud squeal and turned her head towards Mary Ann who was jumping from foot to foot excitedly.
"Oh my god. I you little liar. Everyone totally saw you holding hands," she squeaked and slid into the desk next to her.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Persephone said calmly, barely able to contain her grin. Mary Ann frowned and slapped her lightly on the shoulder.
"Don't play like that. I am going to get the full story before anyone else," she whispered quickly as their teacher entered the room. Persephone only smiled and hid her face behind her copy of Frankenstein.
####################################
Persephone glanced nervously at the clock as she took Jay's hand and spun quickly. It was quickly approaching five o'clock and a small part of her felt guilty, but she continually pushed it away to focus on learning their new number. Occasionally, she would feel a twinge in her heart calling her out and into the evening. The demon wanted to fight with her uncle and father, but she had found that it was becoming easier to keep it in check as she became more confident in her decisions. She wanted the human life and her determination was becoming stronger.
"Jane, that's a rock step. Come on guys, we haven't even gotten to singing yet," their show choir director said, tapping a wooden cane in time with the music. She was a middle aged, energetic woman with deep smile lines and black hair that was becoming a beautiful steel gray.
"That's because I rather do Beyoncé than Kansas," Jay muttered. Persephone laughed and hummed mockingly along with the music as she circled around him.
"Alright, alright. Persephone this is when you and Mary Ann come forward and do your pair dance. After that, is your solo for the opening after the 'ah'. You know the lyrics right?" the director asked.
"I do. My uncle was a big fan of it. I think I heard it thousand times," Persephone replied. In fact, on days Dante would pick her up from school, they would often go cruising in his red convertible, singing at the top of their lungs with accompanying air guitar solos. The thought made her smile as she took her spot up front.
"Everyone," the director said and lifted her hands. A resounding "ah" filled the room as the drums and piano started. Persephone breathed deeply.
"Once I rose…." Her note was quickly halted with a loud squeak as she spotted her father entering into the room. He was dressed for combat, complete with thick leather vest, black boots, and long blue coat. Once, Persephone was enamored with the color and how he never seemed to go anywhere without the coat. Now it sent dread through her heart. The music stopped, and Persephone could feel all eyes stop and stare.
"Mr. Sparda. Can I help you?" the choir director asked.
Her father blinked as if just noticing the older woman. "I am here to retrieve my daughter," he said flatly and gave Persephone a hard stare.
"She's missed several practices already and we need to get ready for competition," the director replied, glancing nervously around.
"I honestly do not care. Persephone, come on," he said devoid of emotion.
Persephone steeled her resolve. "I want to practice."
His face became deathly cold as he stared at her. The less emotion he showed, the angrier she knew he was and she braced herself for what would come next. Instead, he sighed heavily and softened his expression.
"Persephone, I need to talk to you. It's important that you come home," he said, the words sounding forced.
"Is everything alright?" their director asked, suddenly very concerned.
"Recently discovered health issue in the family," her father responded quickly, the lie rolling easily off his tongue.
Persephone's director turned towards her. "Why didn't you tell us that was why you were gone? Go home until things are better," the older woman said while making shooing motions with her hands. Persephone quickly gathered her items from floor and walked out the door, not sparing a glance towards her father.
Instead of stopping, she stormed down the empty hallways and towards the front door. She could hear the sound of her father's boots behind her and walked faster, bursting through the doors and into the quad. The sky had turned a hazy orange as it made its transition dusk.
"Persephone!" her father called. "Storming out is a little to stereotypical don't you think?"
She stopped and spun around to face him. "Well I am a teenage girl and angry. People storm when they are angry."
"Humans storm. You can fight," he replied, walking up to her.
"I told you, I'm done. I am living my life as a human and will continue storming," she said, voice low and firm.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, his anger seemingly deflating as he exhaled. For a brief moment, he wasn't the all empowering figure she had grown up with, but had become just a man instead.
"Persephone, I'm sorry for what I did yesterday. I'm not disappointed or angry with you. I'm scared. You made a coward of me the day you were born. I couldn't live if anything happened to you," he said softly.
"Dad…" Persephone managed to stutter, trying to find the right words. The guilt she had attempted to hide away burst to surface and her heart grew heavy. She looked at the ground, not wanting to see the shrunken man in front of her.
"Persephone," he said and she looked up again. "Come with me. I have something to show you. Then you can make a decision."
Persephone nodded slowly. Her father started walking towards the parking lot and she followed several feet behind. They climbed inside and he started the car, exited the parking lot, and started driving towards downtown. Persephone oscillated between staring at her hands clasped in her lap and glancing at her father. He kept his cold eyes on the road as he drove silently towards his goal.
"So… we're not going to say anything?" she asked, unsure.
Her father frowned. "I never understood the need to always speak to one another. There is a profound bonding in silence."
"There is also a profound awkwardness," Persephone replied, but sat back in her seat and shut her mouth.
They soon drove into the darkening city, the sidewalks still busy with pedestrians heading to dinner or other gatherings. Her father turned right, pulled the car into a wide alley and parked. He reached behind Persephone's seat then tossed a large, black coat into her lap along with a duffel that clanged as it landed. She opened the bag and saw her swords. They hummed slightly as she held them.
"Put that on and pull up the hood," he said. Persephone gave him a confused look before climbing out of the car and pulling the coat on. It enveloped her down to her knees, easily covering her school uniform. As she pulled the hood over her head, she felt like a criminal hiding her face. Her father exited the car and started down the alley and she trailed after him. At the end of the alley, he turned left and started down the street. As she walked behind him, Persephone saw the outline of his sword under his coat and she worried about what he had planned.
They navigated the crowds like two dark shadows, her father never sparing a glance towards the pedestrians. She followed behind, wondering where he was taking her. Finally he stopped and stared towards a small coffee shop across the street. A young woman, her hair pulled back in a ponytail was cleaning off tables and closing the umbrellas for the night. He watched her for several moments, his face blank save for the faintest etch of relief.
"See that girl?" he finally asked.
"Yeah," Persephone answered.
"She was about your age when she was attacked by demons. Her father was an influential king pin and his rival wanted revenge, so they sent demons after his family. We were asked to protect her," he said and smiled slightly. "She said she never went out in the dark. That bad things happened in the dark. She was right, but we killed the demons sent after her."
As if hearing him speak of her, the young woman looked up and turned around. She spotted them across the street and smiled, giving her father a small wave. The young woman's face glowed with sheer happiness and gratitude. Persephone couldn't recall if she had ever seen another person stare with such adoration towards another human being. Her father nodded to her and she returned to her work.
"She's not afraid of the dark anymore," her father said. "Humans can only do so much to protect themselves. Despite their strength of will, a demon's weapon will always be stronger. So we will be human's weapon, to even the playing field."
"You save them," Persephone murmured, watching the young woman enter the coffee shop. He turned towards her.
"It took me a long time to learn what I needed to. I wanted to be like my father but I was nothing like him. Not until your mother then everything changed. I wanted to protect her and to be with her as a man. I was never stronger than when I was protecting someone. My father knew that and fought back the armies of hell," he said, his voice trailing off.
"Humanity made you stronger," Persephone said, looking down. She felt his hand on her shoulder.
"I have one more thing," he told her and started down the street. After moment, she followed thinking of the woman at the coffee shop. The night had settled completely and when they turned down another alley, she could barely see in front of her. Her father turned towards a rusted fire escape and deftly leapt the five feet up to it. He lowered the ladder and started his ascent to the roof. Persephone quickly clambered up after him, trying to keep pace. She watched in awe and he easily jumped from platform to platform, ignoring the ladders and soon he disappeared onto the roof of the building. After the final platform, she dragged herself onto the roof and spotted him standing on the other side.
"Keep up," he called and jumped from one building to the next. Persephone slung the duffel snugly over her shoulder and started running, dreading the edge quickly approaching. With a grunt, she jumped and cleared the seven foot gap with ease. She grinned and started running again, spotting her father just ahead. When she got close he also started running, leaping easily from building to building, quickly traversing over obstacles. She felt giddy as she tried to catch him, enjoying the surge of power when she needed it. It was like flying. Nothing stood in her way. Even the demon delighted in the run, pushing her faster and faster.
Persephone kicked off a duct, somersaulted over a gap and landed easily on her feet. With a laugh she flipped forward three times, reveling in the ease of it. Every muscle moved in perfect harmony, the way she had always dreamed of when practicing. She was a force of nature, invincible.
With a final back handspring, she landed directly in front of her father. He crossed his arms, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"Having fun?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe a little," Persephone replied with a shrug.
"I thought you didn't want to be a devil," he said slyly.
Persephone walked past him and peered across the building tops flickering to life with lights. "There are some perks," she said quietly. "So what did you want to show me?"
"I wanted to show you a demon," he answered calmly. Persephone spun around to face him.
"Is it here?"
"It's close," he said and walked across the roof top. She stayed close beside him as he looked down seven stories to the alley below. Persephone followed his gaze and realized they were standing on the rooftop of a warehouse surrounded by others that were empty of their workers for the night. Below them was a maze of alleyways shrouded in the dark.
"I don't see anything," she whispered. Her heart was beating wildly, sending the blood rushing loudly past her ears. Her father didn't reply but trained his eyes on a far alley. Before she could see the demon, Persephone felt it. It was a crawling sensation up her spine that sent her power jumping to the surface. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could make out a hunched over form slowly winding its way down the alley. It was roughly the size of a large man, but the outline twisted; its shoulder weighed down by some large mass. A noise in a nearby building caused the demon to raise its head, and Persephone felt her body jerk in response. Its eyes were flat and black, its nose only a gash above a row of large fangs that its mouth could not contain. It was mockery of nature, mixing the human face with that of a beast to form a horrifying monstrosity.
"It's hunting," her father murmured. The noise from the building grew louder and a man in overalls and a woman in office clothes stepped out from the building below them, chatting tiredly. They locked the door, and Persephone felt herself tense as the demon started moving faster towards the oblivious pair. Her father remained still, watching as it let out a low snarl and swiped at the man. The woman screamed and ran as the man fell to the ground.
"Dad," she whispered sharply. Her father glanced at her once before jumping from the top of the building, drawing Yamato as he fell. The demon blinked its large eyes as her father landed between it and man with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Persephone gripped the ledge of the building as she watched the showdown. The demon growled and lunged and her father rammed an elbow into its chest, sending it stumbling backward.
A scream erupted from another alley. Persephone glanced at her father, still dispatching other the demon as another scream echoed over the rooftop. In a heartbeat, she started running across the roof and towards the direction of the scream. As she jumped from one building to another, she heard the cry again coming from the alley just in front of her. She darted towards the edge and looked down to see the woman crawling across the ground on one elbow as the other arm clutched her belly. A hunched demon slowly made its way towards her, its long, clawed arms dragging on the ground. Persephone looked frantically for a way down only to find she was stranded on the roof.
"Dammit," she hissed and climbed onto the ledge. Taking a deep breath, she stepped off the roof and plummeted towards the ground seven stories below. She landed easily in a crouch behind the demon, steadying herself with hand on the ground. The creature didn't even look up from its pursuit of its victim.
"Hey!" she shouted. The demon stopped and slowly turned. Persephone swung the duffel from her shoulder and withdrew her swords. Her heart stopped when she saw the demon's cold, dead eyes land on her. Its face was skeletal with pale skin stretched over bones, its body thin and hunched forward with the weight of its large claws. As it saw her, it curled its thin lips back to expose wolf-like fangs. Her insides became watery and she shuddered under its gaze.
The woman sobbed and Persephone felt the swords hum in her hands. She steeled herself against the demon, feeling the bloodlust fill every single vein. Her eyes locked with the demon's and she slowly raised both swords.
With a roar, the demon charged forward, faster than she had expected with its hunched body. She sidestepped out of the way and spun around it, forgetting to attack. It stopped its charge and whirled around, rising to its full height with a sickening snap of its spine. It flexed its claws and roared, sending spittle into the air. The demon ran towards her swinging one massive hand with claws outstretched. Persephone ducked under its arm and turned, bringing the silver sword down on its shoulder. It growled and brought its elbow back, ramming Persephone between the ribs. She stumbled back and crossed her arms in front of her as the demon swung again. The impact to her forearms sent her to her knees, and she rolled out of the way of the demon's stomping foot. She jumped to her feet and held the swords tightly on either side of her.
"Come get me you ugly bastard," she growled.
The demon charged, and Persephone planted one foot behind her, bracing for impact. She brought the blades forward in front of her and watched the demon's eyes grow wide as it realized it couldn't stop. Its momentum drove its chest directly into the blades, and Persephone locked her elbows as it struck with a shuddering blow. With a growl, she pressed the blades deeper into its heart and twisted, sending out a spurt of thick red blood over her hands. The demon let out a single, staggered breath and slumped forward. Persephone yanked the swords from its flesh and let it fall to her feet. She looked down at its ugly corpse, her entire body trembling. With a shout she rammed the tip of the blades into its skull, cracking it in half and watched the blood leak out with smile. Persephone closed her eyes, letting the power and bloodlust flow freely through her.
Another sob shocked Persephone from her reverie, and she turned her head towards the woman who was struggling to sit up.
"Don't move," she said, quickly placing the swords through her belt loops and walking over to her. She knelt next to the woman whose eyes were wide with fear.
"What was that?" the woman cried, gripping Persephone's arm.
"Don't worry about it," Persephone said and slowly helped her to her feet. "Do you have a phone?"
The woman nodded and they made their way towards the street. Persephone stuck her head out from the alley and looked up and down the street. When she was sure it was empty, she stepped out and gently leaned the woman on a building. She lifted the woman's arm from her stomach and sighed with relief when she realized it was just a flesh wound.
"You're going to be ok. Call 911," Persephone said and turned away. The woman grabbed her arm and she stopped.
"Thank you," the woman whispered.
Persephone didn't look back as she gently removed her arm and returned to the alley. When she came to where the slain demon had fallen, her father was waiting, watching the corpse dissolve into dust. He turned his gaze to her as she approached, his eyes bright with pride.
"You did well," he said.
"I saved her," Persephone said with a smile. "She's alive."
"How was it? Your first kill," he asked.
Persephone shook her head, unsure of what she had felt. Her first thought was to save the woman, but after seeing the demon, all she wanted to kill the creature. She enjoyed watching it fall defeated at her feet.
"Frightening," she said. "But then it was…exhilarating. I don't know if I can describe it," she answered quietly.
"You're a hunter now," her father said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked down at the pile of dust at her feet, letting the words sink in.
"I don't….I don't know," Persephone said. The demon was a thing of nightmares that she never wanted to see again, yet a part of her wanted to hunt down another to ensure that they always just remained as nightmares.
"Persephone," her father said and gently tilted her face towards him with one hand. "Ever since were a child, you have always wanted to make a difference in the world, to do something important. This is your opportunity to do something that matters not just for the people you will save, but for humanity. Now that you have your chance, why are you so afraid of it?"
Persephone stared deeply into his eyes, the question striking a chord in her heart.
"I'm scared of what I will become. I don't know that person is," she confessed. Her father just shook his head.
"Don't fight it. Use it to become more of the person you are and who you want to be," he said. Persephone nodded feeling the pieces slowly fall into place. She had been so wrong in her desire to cling to what her life was when something so much greater lay before her. When she slayed demon, it was as natural as breathing; she could feel the rightness of it in her bones. Within her lay the legacy of the greatest warrior of humanity and she was far too close to throwing it all away because she couldn't let go. Her grandfather had given up everything to save the world; her sacrifice would be nothing in comparison.
"Teach me everything you know. I want to make him proud," Persephone said as the sound of sirens reached them. Her father smiled and together they climbed to the rooftops, the last remnants of Sparda against the horrors in the night.
If you can believe it, some of this was actually inspired by conversations with my own father. I had a fun time trying to describe the first kiss; it has been a while :). In any case, please RR. Peace!