II.VI. Showdown
Adoni, sitting up, finally rose to his feet mopping blood from his brow and walked over to Dante's body with Ebony outstretched. He peered down into his face, watching his eyes flutter closed; satisfied that he had defeated him. Adoni exhaled heavily and tossed the gun to Dante's side, rubbing his wrist, sweat and blood sticking clumps of sand to his devilishly handsome visage. He picked up his sword, whistled to his horse and mounted it as though no fight had transpired. Ignoring Dante's sprawled body, he turned to face the army again and snapped his omnipotent fingers.
Then he gave the command.
With a simple wave of his hand, the entire army picked up, the leading horses rearing up on their hind legs then charging forward. The thunder erupted again as the continual fleet dodged Adoni's horse and bounded over Dante's body to the portal ahead. The sound of swords being forcefully pulled from the Knight's sides and the flapping of territorial flags in the wind plagued the air. The sand kicked up again.
Adoni was calmly among the mass forcing them onward, his sword raised triumphantly in the air, words of destructive encouragement fleeing his lips. His voiced was drowned in the thunderous noise but his face was twisted in sick excitement as he watched his minions' charge forth into the world Dante sought to save. When he could stand no longer the lack of action, he turned his horse toward the portal. He tore open his eyes when he heard the ringing of gunfire cut through the air. Startled, he looked over his shoulder at Dante, faded in the cloud of sand but without doubt back form the world of unconsciousness. Adoni forced a smile.
"That's right. Devils don't die so easily."
Quickly, he dismounted his horse from the left side, his foot still hooked in the saddle when Sparda soared through the air and pierced him directly through his left breast. The force of Sparda's entry threw him back into the sand and he gripped the blade with his bloody hands, fighting to pull it from his breast. He twitched, he hollered momentarily with his face twisted in horror. Dante stood by watching his struggle.
He wound this way and that, trying to avoid being trampled to death as well as free himself from Sparda's clutches. He moaned horribly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, deeply. Then Sparda, free from his chest alas, fell out and landed beside him. Adoni scrambled to his feet, grasping his chest and gripping his horse for support.
Meanwhile the army continued to torrent toward the portal, the incessant noise deafening. Adoni gasped heavily, another sinister smile replacing the dread on his face. "Oh-my heart," he gasped, "my heart Dante-is on the right."
Dante was taken aback, his expression nothing short of astonishment. But surprise quickly raided his face when he noticed the cut on Adoni's hand had healed. He also noticed that Adoni kept him to his left-why? It was obvious, and the answer struck him instantly; he could not see from the black eye. Thus his attacks would predominantly be on the left. Dante briefly returned his fickle grimace.
"It's too late, hero. I gave my command." He fingered his wound and rubbed the blood on his fingers together, trying to steady his breathing.
"Blind," Dante asserted.
"What?" Adoni returned, openly surprised at Dante's remarkably calm prose. He stepped to the side and Adoni's green eye followed him cautiously.
"You can't see me."
A horrible disadvantage in the battlefield would be the inability to see. Although he could-and even with this one eye-the green one that followed Dante so steadily-he managed to not only be in battle but to lead it. With this sense dulled his body promptly compensated by strengthening his remaining senses. Including his Devil sense.
Adoni could feel the evil spirit rising within him. The adrenaline rush brought on by this chest wound was enough to rouse his latent demon. He peered into Dante's devilish eyes, anticipating his next foolish move that would undeniably kill him. In just a moment the transformation would begin and Dante would be dead before its completion.
Dante stood still feeling the force of the horses whisking by him. It was too late now to stop an entire army by hand alone. He needed that mercury ball in the flap at Adoni's horse's side. But Adoni was not foolish. He was standing right there-so close but in such poor condition it would be too easy to pluck the ball away from him. However, he would do it.
Dante bent slowly, never taking his eyes away from Adoni as he reached a cautious or perhaps horribly exhausted hand over to Ebony. He didn't need to worry about being trampled; horses naturally avoided objects in their way. Still, a confrontation now in such close proximity of those giant beasts was life threatening. Death teetered in all directions.
It was not until his fingers closed gingerly around Ebony's scuffed handle that Adoni attacked again. So swiftly this time Dante never saw him leave the horse's side. He didn't even realise he was near him until he was blasted in the kidney by a remarkably potent fist that blackened his vision temporarily. Adoni gripped him under the arms and forced him back into the sand, pressing his knee into his abdomen.
He was surprisingly heavy. He was surprisingly stronger. His fingers gripped his arms like a perched bird, and much like the talons on a bird Adoni's fingers ripped into his flesh until Dante was convinced that it was neither man nor beast he wrestled with. He cried out when his skin popped and fingers forced into his soft tissue like carving knives. He mashed his eyes shut, trying not to blackout as Adoni dangled him just above the threshold of inhumane torture. He couldn't even inhale with the pressure of Adoni's knee compressing his lungs.
When he opened his eyes again he was staring not into the face of a man but demon that was forcing its way through. Both his eyes were now a radiant orange, his ears pointed slightly at the tips and lips parted slightly revealing a wicked row of fangs. Dante cried out with what little breath he had left in his lungs.
"Shit! What are you?"
Both frightened and disgusted, Dante ripped his arm free of the vise- like grasp and pressed his palm against his chest in a sad attempt at pushing him off. He raised his leg and kicked outwards, forcing Adoni to back off his body. Dante scrambled backwards on his elbows until he felt the demon grip his leg and start to force the joint at his knee to bend in its opposite direction. Dante had never broken a bone before in his life but he was almost certain that the detonation in his leg would cripple him. He felt the bone split along his chin and creep up his thigh. It was not until the pressure hit his hip that flung sand into his eyes in desperation. Adoni let go to dig his paws into his eyes, mistakenly stepping back into the path of a rushing Clydesdale. In an instant he was swept away. The front hooves caught him on the shoulder bone, driving him into the ground only to pick him up again with its back legs and drag him another few yards before the horse stumbled.
The rider was dragged down as well; the fallen horse flaring its legs and in the process tangling up other horses as well that didn't quick leap the accident in time. The entire time it took the horse to fall and slow up the army was only seconds. Adoni felt the crushing pressure of a struggling horse roll onto him, filling his mouth with sand. A storm kicked up around the whinnying horses.
Dante opened his eyes again. There was no doubt that he could not stand. Flat on his back to avoid startling any more horses, he was fully aware that all function in his left leg had ceased. He could still see Adoni's horse faithfully and nimbly standing by. And right by the horse was Sparda. But where was Adoni?
No matter. He sat up abruptly, covering his head with his arms just as a horse leapt clean over his head, leading the detour around his body. He dug his fingers into the ground and slowly dragged his body over to the horse, pausing only to bury his head from the stampede. The number of minions being unleashed into the world truly was innumerable. He could feel every knick and close call of hooves brushing against his body. At one point he was staring directly at the belly of one horse that had stopped immediately to step over him.
Just as he reached Sparda, an immense, leathery wing shot up from the crowd, scattering the rush and flaring wildly to chase them away. The bat- like wing folded neatly around Adoni's body as he leapt into the air and dove down toward Dante's body with a sick screech. Thinking fast, Dante rolled away from the nose dive, pain striking him repetitively. Gripping hold of Sparda, he quickly anchored it into the ground to assist him to his feet.
Adoni had nearly completed his transformation. Dante noticed the stub of a second wing poking through his skin like severely deformed scoliosis. Much of the demon bore resemblance to Alastor's lightning transformation, however, some unrecognizable characteristics Dante could not place to a forbearer. The orange glow from his eyes unmistakably belonged to Feuer, Trinity's long deceased father (Dante Must Die). Perhaps the remaining features belonged to him.
Once he stood, he made it his sole purpose to stay in Adoni's blind spot, but the demon was too quick and Dante's lumbering condition did not aid him any. In perhaps the most fatal and misjudged decision of his life, Adoni rushed in at Dante again-and missed. With a simple side-step, Dante gripped hold of the exposed wing and pulled himself onto his back. Dante's weight forced him into the ground again and he gripped the developing wing securely in his free hand. He tugged, and the wing seemed to take up a mind of its own, retreating into the skin to avoid conflict but Dante pulled back, forcing it through until it flagged in harassment.
Adoni bucked in pain and Dante seized the other wing. He pulled down as if unveiling his back and the two wings ripped apart like thin leather in his hands. Blood sprayed his face as the remaining portion of the wings retreated into his skin again. In an instant the transformation began to reverse. The glow went out in his eyes and the jagged teeth slipped back into his gums. Fear came into him and he stood quickly, but Dante swept Sparda into his Achilles tendons and Adoni collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. If he couldn't walk, neither would Adoni.
Trish ran her fingers over the nozzle of the shotgun she held in her lap. Sweat melted her face as she retreated into the couch, hiding in the darkness of her apartment. She sat perfectly still. Outside, the sound of galloping horses and screaming pedestrians brought chills down her spine. Dante had not succeeded.
Occasionally, the sound of gunfire would interrupt the flow. It was the sound of some civilian protecting themselves from the invading army. She breathed slowly, gently, as if she might give herself away if she exhaled too heavily. Only a loud click was heard when an empty shell snapped out of the ejection port. She reloaded carefully and released the safety, pressing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.
Adoni, sitting up, finally rose to his feet mopping blood from his brow and walked over to Dante's body with Ebony outstretched. He peered down into his face, watching his eyes flutter closed; satisfied that he had defeated him. Adoni exhaled heavily and tossed the gun to Dante's side, rubbing his wrist, sweat and blood sticking clumps of sand to his devilishly handsome visage. He picked up his sword, whistled to his horse and mounted it as though no fight had transpired. Ignoring Dante's sprawled body, he turned to face the army again and snapped his omnipotent fingers.
Then he gave the command.
With a simple wave of his hand, the entire army picked up, the leading horses rearing up on their hind legs then charging forward. The thunder erupted again as the continual fleet dodged Adoni's horse and bounded over Dante's body to the portal ahead. The sound of swords being forcefully pulled from the Knight's sides and the flapping of territorial flags in the wind plagued the air. The sand kicked up again.
Adoni was calmly among the mass forcing them onward, his sword raised triumphantly in the air, words of destructive encouragement fleeing his lips. His voiced was drowned in the thunderous noise but his face was twisted in sick excitement as he watched his minions' charge forth into the world Dante sought to save. When he could stand no longer the lack of action, he turned his horse toward the portal. He tore open his eyes when he heard the ringing of gunfire cut through the air. Startled, he looked over his shoulder at Dante, faded in the cloud of sand but without doubt back form the world of unconsciousness. Adoni forced a smile.
"That's right. Devils don't die so easily."
Quickly, he dismounted his horse from the left side, his foot still hooked in the saddle when Sparda soared through the air and pierced him directly through his left breast. The force of Sparda's entry threw him back into the sand and he gripped the blade with his bloody hands, fighting to pull it from his breast. He twitched, he hollered momentarily with his face twisted in horror. Dante stood by watching his struggle.
He wound this way and that, trying to avoid being trampled to death as well as free himself from Sparda's clutches. He moaned horribly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, deeply. Then Sparda, free from his chest alas, fell out and landed beside him. Adoni scrambled to his feet, grasping his chest and gripping his horse for support.
Meanwhile the army continued to torrent toward the portal, the incessant noise deafening. Adoni gasped heavily, another sinister smile replacing the dread on his face. "Oh-my heart," he gasped, "my heart Dante-is on the right."
Dante was taken aback, his expression nothing short of astonishment. But surprise quickly raided his face when he noticed the cut on Adoni's hand had healed. He also noticed that Adoni kept him to his left-why? It was obvious, and the answer struck him instantly; he could not see from the black eye. Thus his attacks would predominantly be on the left. Dante briefly returned his fickle grimace.
"It's too late, hero. I gave my command." He fingered his wound and rubbed the blood on his fingers together, trying to steady his breathing.
"Blind," Dante asserted.
"What?" Adoni returned, openly surprised at Dante's remarkably calm prose. He stepped to the side and Adoni's green eye followed him cautiously.
"You can't see me."
A horrible disadvantage in the battlefield would be the inability to see. Although he could-and even with this one eye-the green one that followed Dante so steadily-he managed to not only be in battle but to lead it. With this sense dulled his body promptly compensated by strengthening his remaining senses. Including his Devil sense.
Adoni could feel the evil spirit rising within him. The adrenaline rush brought on by this chest wound was enough to rouse his latent demon. He peered into Dante's devilish eyes, anticipating his next foolish move that would undeniably kill him. In just a moment the transformation would begin and Dante would be dead before its completion.
Dante stood still feeling the force of the horses whisking by him. It was too late now to stop an entire army by hand alone. He needed that mercury ball in the flap at Adoni's horse's side. But Adoni was not foolish. He was standing right there-so close but in such poor condition it would be too easy to pluck the ball away from him. However, he would do it.
Dante bent slowly, never taking his eyes away from Adoni as he reached a cautious or perhaps horribly exhausted hand over to Ebony. He didn't need to worry about being trampled; horses naturally avoided objects in their way. Still, a confrontation now in such close proximity of those giant beasts was life threatening. Death teetered in all directions.
It was not until his fingers closed gingerly around Ebony's scuffed handle that Adoni attacked again. So swiftly this time Dante never saw him leave the horse's side. He didn't even realise he was near him until he was blasted in the kidney by a remarkably potent fist that blackened his vision temporarily. Adoni gripped him under the arms and forced him back into the sand, pressing his knee into his abdomen.
He was surprisingly heavy. He was surprisingly stronger. His fingers gripped his arms like a perched bird, and much like the talons on a bird Adoni's fingers ripped into his flesh until Dante was convinced that it was neither man nor beast he wrestled with. He cried out when his skin popped and fingers forced into his soft tissue like carving knives. He mashed his eyes shut, trying not to blackout as Adoni dangled him just above the threshold of inhumane torture. He couldn't even inhale with the pressure of Adoni's knee compressing his lungs.
When he opened his eyes again he was staring not into the face of a man but demon that was forcing its way through. Both his eyes were now a radiant orange, his ears pointed slightly at the tips and lips parted slightly revealing a wicked row of fangs. Dante cried out with what little breath he had left in his lungs.
"Shit! What are you?"
Both frightened and disgusted, Dante ripped his arm free of the vise- like grasp and pressed his palm against his chest in a sad attempt at pushing him off. He raised his leg and kicked outwards, forcing Adoni to back off his body. Dante scrambled backwards on his elbows until he felt the demon grip his leg and start to force the joint at his knee to bend in its opposite direction. Dante had never broken a bone before in his life but he was almost certain that the detonation in his leg would cripple him. He felt the bone split along his chin and creep up his thigh. It was not until the pressure hit his hip that flung sand into his eyes in desperation. Adoni let go to dig his paws into his eyes, mistakenly stepping back into the path of a rushing Clydesdale. In an instant he was swept away. The front hooves caught him on the shoulder bone, driving him into the ground only to pick him up again with its back legs and drag him another few yards before the horse stumbled.
The rider was dragged down as well; the fallen horse flaring its legs and in the process tangling up other horses as well that didn't quick leap the accident in time. The entire time it took the horse to fall and slow up the army was only seconds. Adoni felt the crushing pressure of a struggling horse roll onto him, filling his mouth with sand. A storm kicked up around the whinnying horses.
Dante opened his eyes again. There was no doubt that he could not stand. Flat on his back to avoid startling any more horses, he was fully aware that all function in his left leg had ceased. He could still see Adoni's horse faithfully and nimbly standing by. And right by the horse was Sparda. But where was Adoni?
No matter. He sat up abruptly, covering his head with his arms just as a horse leapt clean over his head, leading the detour around his body. He dug his fingers into the ground and slowly dragged his body over to the horse, pausing only to bury his head from the stampede. The number of minions being unleashed into the world truly was innumerable. He could feel every knick and close call of hooves brushing against his body. At one point he was staring directly at the belly of one horse that had stopped immediately to step over him.
Just as he reached Sparda, an immense, leathery wing shot up from the crowd, scattering the rush and flaring wildly to chase them away. The bat- like wing folded neatly around Adoni's body as he leapt into the air and dove down toward Dante's body with a sick screech. Thinking fast, Dante rolled away from the nose dive, pain striking him repetitively. Gripping hold of Sparda, he quickly anchored it into the ground to assist him to his feet.
Adoni had nearly completed his transformation. Dante noticed the stub of a second wing poking through his skin like severely deformed scoliosis. Much of the demon bore resemblance to Alastor's lightning transformation, however, some unrecognizable characteristics Dante could not place to a forbearer. The orange glow from his eyes unmistakably belonged to Feuer, Trinity's long deceased father (Dante Must Die). Perhaps the remaining features belonged to him.
Once he stood, he made it his sole purpose to stay in Adoni's blind spot, but the demon was too quick and Dante's lumbering condition did not aid him any. In perhaps the most fatal and misjudged decision of his life, Adoni rushed in at Dante again-and missed. With a simple side-step, Dante gripped hold of the exposed wing and pulled himself onto his back. Dante's weight forced him into the ground again and he gripped the developing wing securely in his free hand. He tugged, and the wing seemed to take up a mind of its own, retreating into the skin to avoid conflict but Dante pulled back, forcing it through until it flagged in harassment.
Adoni bucked in pain and Dante seized the other wing. He pulled down as if unveiling his back and the two wings ripped apart like thin leather in his hands. Blood sprayed his face as the remaining portion of the wings retreated into his skin again. In an instant the transformation began to reverse. The glow went out in his eyes and the jagged teeth slipped back into his gums. Fear came into him and he stood quickly, but Dante swept Sparda into his Achilles tendons and Adoni collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. If he couldn't walk, neither would Adoni.
Trish ran her fingers over the nozzle of the shotgun she held in her lap. Sweat melted her face as she retreated into the couch, hiding in the darkness of her apartment. She sat perfectly still. Outside, the sound of galloping horses and screaming pedestrians brought chills down her spine. Dante had not succeeded.
Occasionally, the sound of gunfire would interrupt the flow. It was the sound of some civilian protecting themselves from the invading army. She breathed slowly, gently, as if she might give herself away if she exhaled too heavily. Only a loud click was heard when an empty shell snapped out of the ejection port. She reloaded carefully and released the safety, pressing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.