Chapter 10: Other Side
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I DO NOT OWN DEVIL MAY CRY OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS
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A.N: I actually kind of like this chapter, since this was written when I started to try out a new writing style. Sorry, no Dante or Helena in this chapter. I'm sorry about my bad names for the demons haha, I just make it up as I go. Well, Enjoy!
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"Tell me", started the golden eyed man, "What do you think I should do with the girl once I'm finished?"
The demon he spoke to held a black fan in front of her face, wary not to touch the blades that accessorized the tips. Her violet eyes gazed at the master under long, wispy, snow-white bangs. The rest of her pure white hair flowed down her back to her ankles. A simple white dress cascaded down to the floor, even as she sat across the room from the master.
"As if I'd care", she responded, fanning herself with her own weapon, "But, if you must ask such questions to stir up your imagination, I would have her watch her sister die a slow and disturbing death and let Siren 02 go free"
"Why her go free?", he questioned calmly.
"She'll be so traumatized that she'll eventually give up on life herself. It will be pitiful, yet, fun to watch as she withers away", the woman answered, examining the blades on her fan, an amused smile playing on her lips.
"Interesting, but, only fun for you", he chuckled, "If you've forgotten, I will have bigger and better things to attend to once that son of Sparda is out of the picture"
The woman's violet eyes shifted away from her blades towards her master on the other side of the room, "I advise that you not be overconfident. That has been my brothers' and sisters' demise today. Though I care not for their undoing, I fear for yours. Should the son of Sparda defeat you once more, I fear that your existence will be permanently erased"
"If I am defeated, so be it. But, I will not let my existence be erased", he stood up and crossed the room to stand over her, "I will do as I did the last time I was defeated and wait, again, to strike at Dante"
"Pity that he is the only thing standing between you and your victory", the woman closed her fan and stood, "I shall be going now"
"Wait a moment longer", he motioned for her to follow, "I have a gift for you"
The woman followed, unquestioning; she never questioned her master. He led her to a room with weapons decorating the walls like priceless art. The master strode over to a wooden box and gestured for her to open it herself. She nodded, unlatched the box with her free hand and lifted open the lid. Inside lay a silver fan, twice the size of the one she held now with the blades even sharper. She fingered the weapon as her eyes sparkled with a devious fascination. The master smiled when she looked up at him, as if meaning to say 'is this really for me?'. The only question, even if it wasn't verbal, that she had ever asked him.
"Try it out, my dear", he gestured to the weapon, "I'm sure you'll find Silver Dancer easier to use than your Black Wind"
"Thank you so much", the woman gasped before placing her previous weapon down and picking Silver Dancer up from the box. She ran off like a child who had just received a new toy, wanting to try it out. She ran to the sparring room, eager to test out her new weapon; eager to shed blood as soon as she got a feel of Silver Dancer.
Once the demon woman was gone, the master sneered, "Don't expect to get much use out of it my dear. You are just going to end up like the rest of your brothers and sisters; killed only to be used for my energy"
He turned towards the door behind him and slid it open and walked into a grand ballroom. An elaborate chandelier, large in size with beautiful crystal dangling from every inch, hung from the center of the room. The light reflected on the glossy wooden floor beautifully. Candles on elaborate stands were scattered about the edges of the room for extra, yet unneeded, light. Deep red, velvet curtains draped down from golden rods which were set up high on the towering, cream colored walls. The drapes swept the ground gracefully and contrasted well with the murals that depicted scenes of the underworld. A sleek, black piano was set off to one side of the room, with a young man standing next to it, eyeing the murals on the ceiling. Dark blue hair was tied back with a black tie; blood red eyes scanned every detail of the murals above. He wore a simple tuxedo, his gloved hands gently placed in his pockets. Once he heard the master's approach, he looked away from the murals and bowed, the hair that had not been tied back falling over in front of his handsome face.
"I thought you were never coming back", the man said, coming up from his bow, "It can get quite boring when all you have to do for hours is scan these murals. Not to say that they aren't interesting"
"I apologize", the master smiled as he stepped forward, "I was speaking with your sister just now"
"My last sister", the man mused, "my dear sister Wist. She is just going to end up like the rest of them. By the way, how is Rozzen?"
"Rozzen? Oh, well, the possession didn't go very well. He rejected every thing we tried, so we had to…dispose of him", he then shrugged, as if another lost life didn't mean anything.
"I see", the other man shrugged, "He was the runt of the litter anyway"
"Besides that, is the music ready Armand?"
"Ah, yes!", Armand smiled, "Just wait until you hear it! I think it's the best piece I've written in the last 300 years"
"Did you make sure that it is specifically designed to entrance her? I don't want her coming out of the spell easily"
"Trust me", Armand replied, his red eyes gleamed, "The only ones that could break out of this spell are you and possibly the son of Sparda"
"Whether that brat is caught by it or not, makes no difference to me. I just want that girl. I don't need her opening up her mouth while I'm fighting against that half-breed"
"May I be so bold as to suggest something sir?", Armand asked cautiously
"It depends on what the suggestion is my dear boy", the master raised an eyebrow in question, "Nonetheless, go on"
"Why not have you-know-who fight against him before you. After all, even if Dante does defeat him, he will be severely injured and weak. Your victory will be made much easier. I know it sounds like the cowards way, but, just think of how much quicker you could bask in victory"
The master stroked his chin in thought as he looked upwards towards the grand balcony that overlooked the ballroom. There, in an elaborate chair draped in silk, sat Tara. She was whispering something to the man that stood next to her, frantically trying to get a response. The man made no acknowledgement of her comments as he stared blankly at the large mural that was directly across from him on the wall of the other side of the room. Tara had been forced to change into something more 'suitable' for the occasion beforehand, unfortunate for her. She wore a yellow dress that hugged her torso, though, past the hips it flared out, making the yellow dress into a lovely ball gown. A small hat rested, slightly tilted, atop her auburn hair, with a netted veil decorated in red and blue jewels covering part of her face. A small mask, covering just around the eyes, added another touch of yellow with red and blue jewels accenting the piece further. A yellow choker was around her neck, with a sapphire in the middle. Lastly, a single yellow glove covered her left hand, with red jewels decorating around the wrist.
When Tara felt the master's eyes on her, she glared. The master simply smiled, as if he were acknowledging someone with far more power than he, before shifting his gaze over to the silver haired man next to her.
"Actually", the master started, "Having him fight isn't such a bad idea. Though he is incomplete, he should have the strength he had the last time they fought"
"Would you like the battle after the masquerade, sir?", Armand asked.
"I shall have my fun first. I would like a dance with my creation and see just how agile she is", the master stroked his chin again, "However the events unfold afterwards, I leave in the hands of fate. If the battle shall erupt during the masquerade, so be it. My soon to be puppet…I beg your pardon", the master smiled at Armand, "your puppet and myself shall stand off to the side while the battle commences. As long as she is under your spell, we should not have any problems"
"Seducing the siren, quite ironic, don't you think?", Armand smiled politely as he moved towards his grand piano.
"Yes, ironic indeed"
"YOU PIG HEADED COWARD!", Tara shouted, her limps bound to the chair.
The master smiled before jumping, with ease, up onto the balcony. He landed gracefully, as if he were a feather, and stood with his back to the black railing of the balcony. Again, that sickly innocent smile was upon his face, his golden eyes on Tara.
"Coward, you say?", he knelt down to her eye level, "I might be, but, is your sister not one as well?"
Tara stared him down as best she could, considering she had to look up at him, "No she's not!"
"Then why did she bring Dante into this? Of course, it was planned that she would bring him along anyway. This is why all of this is set up in such a way", he stood up to his full height and gestured, with his arms spread, to the magnificent, yet, haunting room, "It is because your sister is a coward that things are set up as they are. Of course, I don't think the fools have realized that yet"
"It isn't her fault that she does not have enough power", Tara spat in defense of her sister, "I would have done the same if I were her"
"Would you?", the master shook his head, "No, I don't think you would. You're a hotheaded girl, Tara. I don't think that you would have asked the son of Sparda for help, oh no, my dear. You would have taken the task head on, with no aide. Trust me, I know this because I created you. Though, Helena's cowardice is something she developed all on her own"
"That still doesn't explain why you manipulate V-", Tara began, but the master cut her off.
"Silence!", the master bellowed. His outburst echoed in the ballroom.
Armand below sighed in annoyance when the master's sudden outburst caused him to flinch and streak his pen across the page of his sheet of music. He said nothing, despite the fact that he had to start the music sheet from scratch again. The man standing next to Tara made no movement, unfazed. The master let out a deep breath before stooping down to meet her gaze.
"Whether this man next to you fights against Dante or not means nothing to me. I tell you now, I would rather be cutting this man to pieces instead of having him stand here useless and waiting until Dante arrives. If you don't wish to see his premature demise, I suggest you keep your pretty mouth shut. Do I make myself clear?"
"As if I care", Tara slouched in the chair and crossed her arms, glaring at the master.
"I think you do. I can see it in your eyes", he sneered before vanishing.
Tara sat up as soon as the master was gone, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders as she looked up at the man next to her, "You're the worst of them all. I can't believe that you are being used by that scum so easily"
The man said nothing, nor did he move. He was a living statue next to Tara.
A.N: Sorry, another short chapter…again