Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry.
She who wears Trunks
Chapter Eleven
Would you sell your soul?
He walked further into the apartment with wandering eyes. There wasn't much to look at besides cheap furniture and a beat up looking punching bag. The two demon hunters decided to put aside their moment on the glass aside for later, an unspoken promise for more later.
"You say there are books here, but I don't even see any pamphlets around here."
Dante just laughed and rubbed his nose, shaking his head like what he just heard was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "You're just not looking in the wrong places. I know Lady has a tome or several from daddy Arkham around here."
Nero decided not to ask who "daddy Arkham" was, assuming the answer would be one he did not like. But like Dante had said, he wasn't looking in the right place. The old man pulled a box from under Lady's bed, which had a sort of military tidiness to it.
"Why don't I pull out the boxes, and you look through them; when I can't find any more I'll help sort through the dust too."
Nero nodded in agreement, dragging his index finger across the top of the taped box to open it easily. "No scissors needed," he joked to himself.
There was nothing particularly informative about any of the books, but there was a picture frame in there with a broken glass front that he thought was interesting. A small child with long black hair sat on another man's lap, and they were both smiling genuinely at the lens of the camera with sweet, happy faces. The girls eyes, though the picture was faded and in black and white , appeared to be two different colors. The father, or who he presumed to be the girl's father, was well groomed, if not wind-blown.
"There isn't anything important in this box, Dante," he called out, suddenly pulling away from the picture as if his eyes were not meant to drift there.
"Okay, that's cool. There's more in the living room to look through."
Box after box, he started to feel like there was no point in searching anymore, almost losing hope, but then Vergil gave him a tip. "Do you not feel something in the one to the far right? I would think your arm would twitch at being so near to it."
"Near to what...?" he muttered out loud. Dante, who had been sifting through boxes for a while now, sat next to him puzzled at his words. Confusion spread across his face as Nero pulled the box in question closer to his and pulled out a red leather book with the words, "Curses of the Burned Flesh" stitched in fancy gold lettering.
He flipped open the first page and was almost as if his arm hummed to life like a machine. He realized what Vergil was talking about. "Why does it feel like this," he wondered out loud again, and Dante took the time to formulate a question.
"What are you talking about, what's that book?"
"Read it. The first few pages."
"Shh!"
Dante just stared at Nero as he took the time to read the first few pages like Vergil said, and they explained at length about how he was "of the burned flesh," and that his arm was a curse that nobody has ever been able to break. Not that he wanted his arm gone anymore.
The explained how being of the burned flesh can make a guy more receptive to certain curses, should the cursed body part be involved with whatever. Of the list of curses that a being of the burned flesh was "attachment," which was what he had evidently.
"Any entity who has a soul can harbor multiple souls, or 'voices' as many humans have put it, and become haunted by them. These foreign souls hold onto their host and then drive their host to insanity, usually sending them to an insane asylum and feeding off of their scattered thoughts. Beings of the hell burned flesh are stronger, and thus more resilient against the taunts of these voices, but many have fallen to the corrupted souls.
"There are many ways to rid oneself from the intrusion, and one way is death, or by being cleansed in the fires of hell, though there is a myth that says any one man who would climb to the top of Temen-ni-gru can find an elixir that cures all mental ills. This, of course is only legend and cannot be relied on as a source of curing this sickness.
"They say to make this elixir calls for many items like devil stars, and the like, but the hardest ingredients to find are not really tangible things. If I am remembering correctly, one of the said ingredients is a bolt of Nevan's love, while another is the light of Beowulf. Nobody has ever been able to retrieve these things however, and the recipe has never been completed, but it is said that when swallowed, incredible fires blaze in the belly of the drinker, and the intruding soul is scorched away.
"The final way to relive oneself of this curse is very complicated, and involves making a deal with a demon from the inner circles of hell. The ritual you would have to go through is strange, or so I've heard, and it sometimes involves disfigurement or selling your soul. A dangerous trade it is, but without a soul, there would be no voice to live under your skin, and many have made the sacrifice. More often than not, these demons don't do much with the souls they've collected, sometimes making potions with them or selling them, but there is very little risk of harm when it is not attached to you physical body."
Nero read the few paragraphs to Dante to let him know he'd found the right book, but that they'd probably need more information on the recipe and these merchant demons.
"We are not going to sell your soul, Nero. I can get all the stuff on that recipe list, really. It won't come to that."
Nero stood up and stretched his arms far past his head to hear the satisfying pops in his shoulder, sighing at the feeling. "How do we know this elixir even works, old man? What's if it ends up doing more harm than good? I'll drink fire if I have to, but I think it would be best to find all the info we can."
Dante stood up too, taking on a more serious face. "You can't sell your soul, kid, the risk is too high."
"Didn't you hear what I just read to you? My body will be fine no matter what happens to my soul because it'll be gone. And so will Vergil. He'll be gone for good, and neither of us will have to put up with his shit anymore!"
"That doesn't mean your body will be fine without a soul, regardless if whoever you sell it to uses it or not! Some people's bodies degenerate without a soul!"
"Oh, where'd you hear that at, huh? Sounds like-"
"You'll kill yourself, kid! If you sell your soul, who knows how much time you'll have left to live. Please just trust that I know what I'm talking about when I say it's not a good idea to sell your soul. This elixir is going to work; it has to."
They were in each other's faces. Nero was frustrated at Dante's wishful thinking, as if that's ever made anything better. No, he found that optimism doesn't cure insanity, and it doesn't stop tumors either.
"Yeah, well, there are no guarantees old man, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get rid of this god damned voice." His voice had gotten low, and grisly. Eyes almost venomous in their wanting for a solution. Dante looked no different if a little saddened.
Nero walked out of the living room to the room with the broken window, but when he stepped in to the doorway, he heard Dante say to him, "What would I do if you disappeared huh? You think this is for nothing, kid? That this is just about you anymore?"
He turned to face Dante fully, regret on his brows like sweat.
"You can't just leave me after you've been here for such a short time, you know. You gotta stay, we gotta keep each other happy. We gotta keep each other alive."
"Would you sell your soul?"
Dante shook his head. "Not if I had somebody to come home to. I've got you and Trish, and Lady to worry about now. And you've got me, right? And that girl from Fortuna." He didn't say her name because it would be bad if he called her Carrie and that wasn't her name. But was his voice shaking.
Lighten the mood, that was Nero's newest goal. "I'm not going to die, regardless if I sell my soul or not. You heard what I read, right? 'Beings of the hell burned flesh are stronger,'" he added with a smirk. "I'm not going to let your brother hurt me anymore, and I'm not going to let myself burn in hell. We'll be fine."
On that lighter note, Dante smiled, shaking his head again as if to rid the bad feeling away, but his smile fell as Lady barged in with a bloodied button-up on, with Trish in tow.
I am so so sorry for this long wait I've put you beautiful people through. I've got shitty excuses, if you'll listen to them. I had writer's block for a week after submitting the last chapter, but once I got the will to write again, my internet was down. So I wrote the chapter on my computer, thinking that it would be up again soon, but it wasn't. I actually re-wrote this bit at a friends house because it's still down. I hope you'll all forgive me. I feel so terrible for setting this down so long!
Do you guys like this chapter? was it worth the ridiculous wait? I hope it was, but as usual, I have my doubts. (It's another short chapter...) What path do you think Nero will end up having to take? What about that surprise appearance from Trish and Lady? What do you expect?
Oh,and a less noteworthy side-thing is that I've changed my name from "The Lamest Hero," to "She who wears Trunks."
Please forgive me, my ever-kind reviewers. I love you guys!