Hell, here we come!

Dante felt all the panic, the deep dread of responsibility entangling his nerves. What could he do? He wasn't alone, which would have been a time when he wouldn't care how hurt he got to get things done, but he had always thought he had never been good at looking after others. Rescuing ladies from demons was one thing, but rescuing Vergil...suddenly the weight of it all dawned on him. Vergil had always been the one to be charged with that particular task. And he wasn't Vergil, not able to think of a plan on the fly, in the space of a few seconds while in the clutches of imminent death, not able to come up with a solution with a brain he used mainly for slandering demons to make his kills worth while the effort. Yet he had survived all this time, with recklessness being his second nature, how had he done it?

He looked up. It was the only place that didn't make his eyes feel like they were the desert under a merciless flare of the sun. They would burn out if he didn't avert them from what he was seeing as his failure to the relative coolness of the black rock shimmering above him.

That's when he saw it. The opening, barely visible in the short distance, blending in with the ragged surface of the fast moving ceiling. Only a sharp eye, a demonic eye could have spotted it. But how could he get to it?

"Do something...," a soft plea floated on the muggy air behind him, free of hysterics, free of panic, yet demandingly stressing. He was the one with all the panic... How had he survived all that time when Vergil hadn't been there to guide him? Dante thought of the time he got through the worst episode of his life...in that dreadful hellish tower...

It all seemed to have happened so easily, so naturally as if by sheer luck or some external power... Dante's eyebrows drew closed. Instinct! That was it. Just do what comes naturally, Dante reminded himself, his hand already grabbing for Rebellion as if his subconscious was guiding him as to what he needed to do. Sparing it no more thought, he secured a steel-solid grip on the hot silvery handle and yanked his sword briskly off his shoulders. Waiting for the right moment, he sprang up and rammed it with all his might into the solid rock above him, flexing his bicep to take the toll of gravity. Now all he had to do was to prey the rock would hold and that he could catch the other two...

Dante found himself dangling above the deadly precipice, one arm bent at the elbow with his hand gripping his keepsake so hard it began to shake, the other suspended down to scoop up what he considered his second chance; a chance to save his brother from plunging headlong into hell. If he had known how much damage that single second would have done to Vergil, how much pain it would cause to both of them, he would have tried that much harder then.

One thing was certain though, he would not fail a second time, the hard lines etched into his stern face told as much, sinking even deeper into unnatural rigidity as he realised his dilemma; the girl was going to go past him first. A terrible, blood churning thought scurried darkly through his mind and shook him to the core. If he caught Vesta, he would not be able to save Vergil...

Would he... Horrified at the silent coldness and brutality briefly flashing inside him, Dante shook off the split second deliberations. He would not, he could not! ...let her die. Not with that good soul strangled inside her, one that had not been touched by evil no matter whose blood she carried.

But neither could he let Vergil die. Not after all what they had been through, not after Dante had seen the hopeful light flickering at the edges of his brother's soul, the end of their incomprehensible distance and bitter coldness, the end of Dante's worry that his only remaining family was slipping away with every passing day and the unbearable thought that there was nothing he could do. But now he could! He would not go through that pain again, to live with the soul ripping torment of the never fading knowledge that he had failed his brother, that he had helped to deliver him to hell...

Sweat dripped down his forehead and caught on his lashes, and Dante closed his eyes, letting the drops of perspiration fall to the sloping ground below. He had been there only for a second but his mind had gone through the desolate plains of hell and back thousand times.

Hi brow pushed down hard, to shut his eyes even tighter, to drive away the flood of dread-filled self-doubt. A small breath of air with her scent passed his face. She was coming nearer. Dante clenched his teeth and his hand hesitated, fingers coiling inwards, rising away from the burning pit below. His mind blackened, just for a tiny splinter of a second, when a desperate growl ripped through his insides.

His hand shot down and grabbed the girl.

She was lifted up, he felt her light weight pulling on his flexing arm. You tied my hands...my human tied me up to save the devil that is part of me. Part of me forever... Dante held her, dangling in the air, his face shut to the dark cave, his soul screaming to the world. The weight of what he had done attaching itself to every inch of his body, his arm nearly imploding with the heavy burden. He felt Rebellion slowly slipping away from the hard stone. He had to move on, and he knew he had to do it now.

Wait. Heavy weight? But she had been so light...when he had held her in his arms before.

Dante dared to pry open his eyes and take a look below. His mind didn't quite catch up to what his blurry eyes tried to delude him to.

"Dante, I got him! Try to throw me into the opening!" her firm but desperate voice made his brain swim out of the muddy water and take a closer look. Vergil was swaying precariously, but swaying nonetheless, from Vesta's taut arm, the glowing white-hot pit below his feet casting an illumination worthy of a devil on his face. Dante didn't move, his muscles still locked up from the shock of expecting his brother to die and now seeing him alive.

"Dante! You may not be aware that I am currently in the possession of only a single pair of boots. Therefore, I would appreciate if you would deem it appropriate to move your derriere right now and spared me from walking around barefoot."

Vergil's customary phlegmatic voice surprisingly injected life into Dante's numbed senses. He saw Vergil hanging down, his arm locked securely with Vesta's, his boots dangling precariously above the glistening tips of the hellish spears, touching them from time to time.

Fuck, fuck, fuck me sideways and then some more! Don't you do that to me again! Ever! You hear me! Dante shook horribly from head to toe. He could have kissed that blasted woman for being so unexpectedly useful but he knew that Vergil would try to kill him...well as soon as he had Yamato back. Instead Dante would just smack himself, when no one was looking, for not even thinking of the possibility that she would not want Vergil to die either and was just as capable of lifting him up.

Now he just had to get them both into the hole in the ceiling, before his arm was going to fall asleep or Rebellion would fall out, which ever would happen first.

Swinging his arm from side to side to gather the momentum, Dante threw Vesta into the narrow opening as far as he could, watching Vergil glide up in front of his eyes, receiving a miffed look that made Dante return a waspish nod. Even in the face of death, all Vergil could think of were his boots and dignity, not the fact that Dante nearly breathed his last breath at the thought of his loss. Nice to feel appreciated now and then! Well he knew it was there somewhere, usually in the form of Vergil silently returning the favour in an even more daring way. And he had the feeling the opportunity might come sooner than later.

Digging her heels firmly into the ragged rock, Vesta made sure Vergil was secure below her before continuing upwards through the chimney-like formation. Strange that it seemed all natural, not as a man made means of an escape, despite the broken off pieces of metal sticking out from the edges. But then why wasn't it sealed, has anyone else managed to make their way through before them?

Scrambling upwards through the sinuous hole, the feeling of dread crept into her stomach. It was like someone was watching her, following her, just like the same sensation she had used to get back at the village, a feeling that she had learned later to associate with the near presence of monsters.

Working her way up into the dark again, Vesta was slowing down, a terrible unease grinding her muscles to a near halt. Vergil had mentioned that someone would not be dissuaded so easily from this place, had he meant Aaron? That demon could be waiting for her to come out right now, and turn her head into a roasted marshmallow as soon as she popped out...

But he hadn't harmed Vergil. Licking her dry lips, Vesta stole a glance at the man in blue below her. Maybe he could come out of the hole first? Shaking the stupid idea out of her increasingly spinning head, Vesta forced her hands to move further. There was no space to manoeuvre, even if she could admit that she was scared. And she thought she could show Vergil that she would jump into a pit full of monsters for him? A cynical snort escaped the corner of her lips...that will be so darn hard! Could she even actually do it?

Only a few more steps, her sweating hands cutting on the sharp stone but healing instantly, she kept her head down as she slowly, gingerly grabbed the upper edge of the opening. It was still so humid, the air very stuffy yet something even more suffocating hang in the air. It was as if the air itself had been scorched by something hotter than fire.

Swallowing hard, Vesta lifted up her chin, just enough for her eyes to peek over the entrance. There was nothing but an empty cave, a dark rock upon rock and some steps leading down into even more viscid darkness. There was no one there! Was she only imagining things being so new to these demon senses?

"What's the hold up," a calm, indolent voice came from below and shattered her nerves. Vesta flinched horribly, feeling like her bladder had just imploded and she nearly let go of the ledge and more. Inwardly sighing in relief, she thanked the gods that she just didn't piss herself. That would really not be the way to make Vergil see her, since he was right below her...

"Oh nothing," she let out dismissively, together with a very deep breath full of heavy air. "Just making sure all is clear," and clean, Vesta assured him, and herself, forcing her nerves to calm down. Gritting her teeth she pulled herself up and jumped out of the hole.

There! Nothing jumped her, nothing burned off the flesh on her skull. All was good! Trying to appear confident as Vergil was coming out close behind her, she ignored her jumping heart and straightened up into a lance, folding her hands at the back, not thinking that he could not actually see her falsified bravery. Vergil popped out from the dark hole and ended up staring at a wall.

"See? I did get you through in one piece!" Dante emerged from the rock chimney with a satisfied glint in his eyes, yet the deep shadow of his earlier decision still lingered, merging with the surrounding darkness. He just prayed Vergil couldn't see it, he simply wasn't ready to tell him yet, knowing that he had to or it would be eating him up for the damnest eternity.

"No, I don't see...," Vergil turned towards the last known whereabouts of Dante's voice, "...and my boots are missing half a sole, or perhaps even too thirds," he pointed out blindly, staring just left of Dante's eyes.

You should have seen mine! They are barely still attached! Dante mumbled mentally, thanking the nigh on invisible shreds of diplomacy he carried that he didn't say that aloud. Still he did feel miffed at Vergil's incorrigible intolerance to gratefulness. "Well, I did see the booby trap, didn't I? And you are still in less than two pieces, aren't you? So stop whining already, jeez," Dante threw his hands in the air, hurt tone accompanying his gesture.

"You have indeed been more than useful," Vergil admitted, feeling a little verbal appreciation could not hurt in this case but he still couldn't let out on Dante's lapse of vigilance when it could have cost them their lives, "if you please, though, next time watch for what in fact triggers the said traps, my boots can only take as much," he educated his brother firmly, ending up on a wry sarcastic note.

Vergil stepped aside, nearly bumping straight into a wall, was it not for Vesta hurrying to turn him to face in the right direction.

"It's this way," she prompted gently, keeping her hand on Vergil's shoulder to stop him from falling down the old, worn out stone steps.

Dante would have laughed if he could spare the time. But he didn't want Vergil charging ahead and falling into a deep pit again. He sensed the tension inside Vergil. At other times, what could be more fun than plunging to one's near death in a dark and trap-threaded volcanic mountain infused with hell? That is why he used to hunt alone, responsibility had never been injected into his veins. Vergil had been right, and he knew it. At times, he hadn't been even sure if he could work with someone or dare he think be with someone, actually for longer than a short enough time for him not to endanger their lives.

This is why he had sought to live alone, despite the fact he always hated it. How could he protect someone the whole hell was after if he was so careless himself? His jaw stiffened with a determined thought. That was yet another reason he had to make sure Vergil would live, to take care of the girl, to build half of the house so that Dante didn't have to do it himself, to keep an eye on Dante, to make Dante focus on Vergil instead of his lonely existence; the list now growing considerably.

Lingering for only a moment, Dante took off forward, leaving his self-doubt behind. He would concentrate from now on, and he would be damned if any stupid trap got past him again.

"Not happening again," Dante said confidently and stepped past his companions down the stone staircase.

He pulled his gun out and held it firmly in front of him, not willing to take any more chances. The low cave, twisting down into the belly of the mountain would have been a perfect attack point. Not for hordes of demons as he could easily mow them down to demon clippings, but for a fire...that could have killed them all, even Dante and Vesta, as there was no way out.

Senses cast out to the maximum, Dante descended the steps, one foot gingerly following the other, his eyes scouring every inch of the floor and walls of the stuffy cave. He could smell the remnants of the singing in the air, could taste the faint traces of brimstone, and it reminded him of that arrogant fireball that called itself Aaron. Damn him for not drilling a neat hole into that demon ass's skull when he had the chance. Now he had to keep his eyes peeled for a very dangerous and determined enemy...

The dull click registered in Dante's brain at the same time as the air moved and filled with the stench of blood and metal. Dante ducked down, the reflection of grisly row of spikes flying past his eyes. Talk about eye peeling... With a heart stopping start he remembered the two coming down right behind him and in a move faster than he could remember he had ever mustered, he flipped Rebellion off his shoulders and thrust it behind his back. The heavy metal jolted in his hands, nearly breaking his wrists, and the smell of burning preceded the puff of white smoke that rushed out of the small recesses in the walls.

Dante remembered to breathe and slowly tilted his head backwards. He saw Vesta goggling at his blade that sat an inch in front of her nose, holding shakily the monstrous, blood drenched prongs that pointed at her eyes, a breath of air from her askew pupils.

"This-one-didn't-have-a-trigger," Dante let out hoarsely, feeling his muscles nearly tear out of his arms as the hellish contraption kept pushing backwards like a thousand trolls, insisting on finishing its gruesome deed.

"I-believe-you," Vesta peeped in a high pitched tone, her hand instinctively squeezing Vergil's hand that he had let her hold to guide him down the pitch-black stairs. More smoke began to pour in, making her to want to cough and vomit. That wouldn't be good. She thought of backing away but didn't think she could even move despite Vergil pulling slowly and firmly on her hand.

"Duck!" the resonating loud yell itself should have made her plummet to the ground but instead it was Vergil who pulled her down. The blade screeched over the metal bar that held the deadly prods in place and the trap swung heavily above their heads, vanishing into a deep crevice in the ceiling with a massive clank.

"Phew!" Dante rose casually to his feet, and shook in disgust to dislodge the specks of dried blood that fell on him from the hideous skewers. He looked up to the ceiling placidly, inspecting the distinct, trap resembling holes with his mouth open. Darn, he was so concentrating at looking to the floor and the walls, he completely missed the heads up...

"The trigger was caused by our own movement, watch for any unnatural holes or protrusions Dante," Vergil said matter-of-factly, no sarcasm or haughty lecture in his voice.

"Yeah, holes and protrusions, no sweat!" Dante confirmed more to himself, his elbow wiping off fresh perspiration from his forehead. Well, maybe a little sweat then, Dante flipped the salty liquid from his elbow and resumed the descent into the lower levels of the mountain. He would have attributed it to the heat that seemed to drench this place but he knew better. Dante knew that he began to feel the pressure that he had never had the need to feel before in his entire life. A pressure that had become a second nature to Vergil, simply something absorbed into Vergil's everyday routine. Had it been one of the reasons his brother had become so enclosed?

Could Vergil change simply because he no longer needed to do the things he had used to have to do? He did become more open, open about his feelings, about his perils and about his plans, about what he needed to do in this place... It suddenly occurred to Dante that he knew nothing about this ominous mountain and how it was supposed to operate, only that his father was somehow connected which he didn't want to get into. Still, how could Vergil be so sure he could get his power back in this particular place?

Keeping all his wits around him, Dante popped the question and broke the slow, unnerving drip of condensation that raked over the silence drenched cave, and his taut nerves, like sharp claws over blackboard.

"Verge, are you sure about this place?" he licked the sweat from his lips while he kept descending, eyes circling every single inch of the narrow passage, a faint glow now floating up its glistening dew speckled floor, providing what could have been taken for a creepy moonlike illumination.

The sound of the dripping water returned to the foreground, only for a little while, until a deep, passion infused voice appeared right behind him, echoing dully through the passage, travelling far lower into the unexplored darkness. Vergil must have swapped places with Vesta, Dante thought, now with the small light allowing him to see at least where he was stepping. "It is a place of great power and magic. A place so ancient and illusive that many refused to believe in its very existence...until, a said map had been lost and discovered, then many died trying to find it and reap its unearthly potential..."

"But...how does it work exactly?" Dante interjected automatically, not letting his mind stray from the close scrutiny of the treacherous cave.

There was another pause and more annoying dripping of condensation as it gathered and slid down the slippery stone walls. The smell of blood mingling with metal touched Dante's nostrils on a short puff of breeze.

Vergil finally spoke. "It is an ancient demonic..."

"Duck!" Dante shouted and plunged to the ground, the weight of yet another hellish trap heading incredibly fast for the space where his head had just been.

"No," Vergil rolled his eyes enfolded in the dark, "and please do not interrupt me."

Dante whipped his head back, hearing Vergil still talking, why on earth did he refuse to duck? His widened deep blue orbs watched the bloody clobber sail back into the hole in the ceiling, an inch short of gouging out Vergil's eyes and shredding his face.

"As I was saying, it is a powerful ancient demonic spirit that was stolen from the demon world...," Vergil enlightened Dante who let out a sigh of relief for the thousandth time that day. Vergil stopped in his tracks and paused his explanation, feeling the coils of distress bomb out of Dante on an almost tangible level. "Is anything the matter?" he asked hesitantly.

"What?" Dante let out aghast. Did Vergil think he was filling in on his speech? Restraining himself mentally from contemplating to let the metal spikes comb Vergil's hair next time, Dante breathed out heavily. "No, nothing's the matter. Keep going," he said frustratingly and getting up, set out to do the same, resuming down the endless staircase with a quiet grumble. This darn tunnel had to end somewhere!

"It is said, that it has the power to return that which has been unjustly taken; the one desire that dominates one's heart the most and rightfully belongs shall be fulfilled."

"It is said?" Dante nearly ended up on a high note as the alarms rang through his head. He quickly cleared his throat but the bitter taste of irony still lingered on his tongue. Did they come here, through all this, based on something that had been just said? What happened to Vergil's bulletproof plans? And wasn't recklessness and pure chance Dante's forte?

"Yes! If I had the opportunity to find out before, do you think I would have to be here now?" Vergil hissed more at his unpleasant predicament than at Dante's show of doubt, although it wasn't really helping right now. At least Dante seemed to know how fast could Vergil's mood plummet or explode right now and he remained unaffected, perhaps only hoping deep inside that it would all soon end. But Vergil had to come here. Did he have any choice? Besides, Vergil had a very strong hunch that a certain someone who was now waiting for him to regain his power, and Yamato, had already been to this place at least once before. And since it had been him, Aaron as he called himself, to lead Vergil here all along, the demon had to already have discovered that the myths were indeed no myths at all...

"So, what if it doesn't work?" casually as if not to cause unnecessary panic, Dante popped the question Vergil never even came close to conceding.

"That...is not going to happen. There is no stopping now, one way or...," Vergil paused.

"Why did you stop...," Dante questioned, his senses jumping to high alert. Did Vergil sense something he had missed?

"Why did you stop?" Vergil stared at Dante's feet that were poised apart for balance, no longer moving. Why weren't they moving?

"The stairs ended," Dante informed objectively, yet with a pensive undertone.

"Then, keep walking on whatever is behind them perhaps?" Vergil's demanded impatiently, coming up from behind Dante. How hard was it to keep going? He really didn't need any delays, now that the thought of a dead end started to ebb at his mind. He had to get there, and find out for sure, and the sooner the better.

"Well I would, but somehow the ability to walk on air has passed me by," the red clad twin said deadpan, his fingers rubbing his chin in thought.

"What are you talking about! There has to be a path or some...," Vergil's words were hijacked by the sight that has been revealed in front of him as he peered over Dante's shoulder.

"Wow! So beautiful!" Vesta exclaimed, peeking out through a gap between their legs as she took hold of them to bring her face closer while crouching. "Like a paradise!"

"Hell!" Vergil grumbled, staring ahead.

"Now what we do," Dante mumbled, his head dropping down instinctively to see what was trying to crawl between his legs.

Bounces of curly hair sneaked their way forward and then rotated to show a gaping face that turned to peer at him. "Can't you fly?" her excited lips moved, her sparkling bright eyes lowering again, to take in the breathtaking view.

They were standing, and kneeling, all crammed up against the ending, or rather the entrance, to a tunnel carved in a solid straight rock face, a cliff as deep as a bottomless pit plunging ominously beneath the tips of their feet, a feeling of grim, sinister presence seeping from every crevice of the black oblivion. One false step, one moment of imbalance and they would all plummet to their deaths, into the pitch-black sinister darkness beneath them.

This all however fell into insignificance compared to what had been revealed on the other side of the deep precipice. There, bulging out from the hard rock face, was what could only have been described as a half-sphere of a planet's molten core, a deeply glowing ball of gold, thickset with enormous protruding spikes that looked like some sort of a crystallised matter that had fused together and had grown over a very long time. The mirrored, polished mosaic of each crystal gave off a strong beam of light that was hurled out, expanding in all directions. One such beam was what had drenched the bottom half of the cave they were now all standing in, appearing like a false path of brightness across the dismal abyss, built from golden dust and the shimmery light itself.

"Yeah...but...attention?" Dante held back, directing his pointedly questioning gaze to Vergil. Under normal circumstances he would not be looking for an approval to his actions, but he wanted to be absolutely sure right now as screwing up could cost them dearly.

Holding his unblinking eyes on Dante's, now that he could actually see them, Vergil quirked up the corner of his lips as he spoke, using Dante's earlier words. "Is it not so, that the whole hell already knows we are here anyway?"

"Are you saying you are agreeing with me?" suspiciously taken aback, Dante thought to ask, just in case.

"I am saying, get going already," Vergil said dismissively, his blues set on Dante while he took a step back from the edge. He then glanced down at Vesta before his steel gaze returned to his twin. "I am going first," his voice was dark and resolute, the knowledge that Dante couldn't carry them both reflecting in his eerily lit orbs. And only Vergil knew that this was the safest option. Whatever lurked beneath and on the other side, of which he was sure, Vesta, whilst alone, would only be safe right here. Question was, would he be bestowed with enough patience and strength to withstand the temptations, and actually wait for them to return...

Giving a nod, not ready to argue something he didn't want to get into, Dante began to transform. He stood firm, as the darker flow of his blood erupted, rushing the sanguine haze of demonic energy to his every cell, every fibre, deforming its human shape into a larger, harder form. No longer human in any way apart from his soul, within a few seconds, a creature of hideous visage arched its back with a hollow, unearthly roar and basked in the feel of its mighty wings popping out of the bony joints that protruded from its scaly back. No matter how much he hated to take this form, it never failed to deliver the exquisite feel of power and insuperability.

"Ouch!"

The devil showed his pointy sharp fangs as his head tilted downward to glance upon the source of the noise. It was the brunette, her head stuck between his legs, struggling to pull it out as his thighs were now twice as thick, riveted with hard scales that started to dig deep into her neck.

"I can't get out...," Vesta wheezed out and glanced up as much as she could without Dante's legs cutting her neck in half, her eyes ending up squinting at the enormous bulge that prevented her from seeing Dante's face. Trying quickly to salvage the situation, Dante thought it best to attempt and lift one leg to the side in the tight space which only earned him more pained groans from below.

Dante was about to retort with a snappy comment, angry that transformations were rather costly when it came to energy and he might not have enough for another one if he morphed back to his human form, when a sound he thought he would never hear again reverberated through the cave, jittering his scales.

Vergil was laughing.

Stupefaction and confusion mingling on their faces, for the first time it took Dante and Vesta a whole twenty seconds of stern staring to finally see the funny side of their misfortune and burst out into a mad laughter that flooded into the vast expanse of the murky grim cave like a new bright and sparkling day.

The tension began to dissipate, even if temporarily, with the sheer ridiculousness of their predicament and unlikely situation. Only it all stopped to be funny once his moonstone eyes fell back onto the glowing sphere.

Forcing himself to calm down, Vergil brought up his hand to stifle a cough and cleared his throat. "Perhaps, if I may make a suggestion..."

The two ceased their own outburst and stilled, signalling their willingness, more reluctant on Dante's part, to listen. Deep inside, or rather very much on the surface, Dante knew that he would never hear the end of this one...no matter how many millennia and more hardships were to come.

Calmly approaching his brother packaged as a bona-fide monster, Vergil knocked between the wings on the hard scaly back of the red devil. "Squat and let me get on," he demanded, his voice back to pure business.

The turned devil was about to protest at first but quickly cough up and did just that. As his legs opened up and Vesta's head became free, Vergil quickly climbed onto Dante's back and made himself comfortable as much as he could considering devil's were not exactly made for comfort.

"Now, get us across," Vergil clicked his tongue and kicked Dante in the loins, urging him to get a move on.

"Hey, gentle on the devil, will ya? It's sensitive," Dante snapped back, his barred teeth and bristled up facial scales not scaring his brother one bit.

Vergil lifted one eyebrow, a brief glint of mischief sneaking its way into his eyes. He would not normally take to a childish revenge but this one was for his horse that Dante should have been more respectful with.

Drawing his arm back as far as he could, Vergil faked a sigh over his own insensitivity, "forgive me, lately I do forget my manners sometimes." With that he slapped Dante's black-red butt as hard as he could muster, hurling them both off and over the edge of the precipice. After all, that was the proper way to send a stubborn donkey on its way, wasn't it?

They took a deep dive into the opaque blackness, dipping into its disturbing murkiness, emerging seconds later as Dante managed to level out and turn them back upwards with a few very frantic claps of his wings. The darkness swirled as if had been stirred and dripped from the red devil's feet, the deadly talons kicking madly to dispose of the last drops of the hell-boiled matter. "Fuck Verge, I swear!"

"Indeed," Vergil agreed impassively, holding tight onto the thick hide, his eyes zooming warily at the cave walls that seemed to have began to move. Despite the undying unnatural illumination that the sphere provided it occurred to him that the whole place was growing much murkier. Upon closer inspection he saw the thick oily shadows creeping up the ragged stone, on all sides, from the depths they had just disturbed, slithering upwards to devour what had polluted their illusive peace.

Vergil blinked away the sickening dizziness that suddenly cut through his senses. He never used to get sick flying, even though this wasn't the smoothest ride, but he realised it was the distinct smell that wrenched his guts so tight he nearly forgot to keep his balance. It was the same stench that he had encountered near his home...the same oily, disgusting, living ooze that spent its pitiful existence at the bottom of the lake and one that had devoured his mother. Father's defences were getting a little old now...

She clung to the edge of the deep pit, still kneeling as she wasn't able to stand up, her eyes fixated in light melancholy at the magnificent flying devil. Flying..., she let out a deep breath that she had held since they had disappeared under that murky, hazy blanket of darkness. Now, only one thought held her mind...if she was to accept any powers at all, then it would be flying...

The shadows closed in on her vision and she tore her eyes from the spell of the devil's elegant wings to stray to the creepy walls. The nostalgia collapsed instantly at the sight that she prayed to never see again. The same horror filled her eyes and wedged itself firmly into her racing chest just like a few days before when she had been dragged into that dreadful lake. She quickly drew her hands from the spooky edge and searched for any signs of that sickly ooze, her whole body trembling like she had a fever.

Shakily backing away from the deep precipice, Vesta sat down and wound her arms tightly around her knees, rocking back and forth as she watched the two in the distance, now landing safely on the other side. Vergil dismounted and she saw them talk something through almost heatedly while Dante frantically pointed back to the cave that was filling with the rancid living-dead of hell...and Vergil didn't appear sympathetic.

The thought that he couldn't come back now sliced through her mind. Dread drilled into her nerves and she closed her eyes to push out a traitorous tear. How could she have ever thought she could do this? She was not cut out for this! She could not jump into any lake brimming with monsters, she couldn't climb over a deep pit filled with the very fibre of anyone's nightmares. Not for anyone, not even for Vergil! She couldn't do it, she couldn't make him see her in any way...

Vesta sat there, unable to open her eyes, the stygian blackness rising, creeping upwards, nearly reaching the level of the narrow passage where she was sitting down. The shadows slithered up to slowly devour the light shining on her face and cover up her lips that muttered over and over into the frightening emptiness lined with thickening creepy air. Don't leave me here, just don't leave me here, Dante come back!

They got so far...yet...exactly just that...so far! There are still so many things that could go wrong...

Join me, to journey with our favourite twins till the end of my story which is coming rapidly! This means that there is so little time for you to say hello and I really would like so much to hear from you, no matter what you have to say, before it all comes to an end! So go on, what do you say...? Or am I undeserving of a few words? So far so few of you who read have responded!

Million humble bows, double that in heaps of cookies and triple that in buckets of gratitude to those who left me with reviews and therefore a sweet memory to remember forever! I hope I responded to everyone personally and didn't miss even one of you! :D

I am not sure if I will be able to write anymore. So be kind and rewind, ehem I mean review, overcome that thing that is stopping you to do so and help me to make this an experience to look back upon with great fondness and perhaps even one to return to. :D

Love you all,

Yours Tora (PS sorry for any mistakes, my Beta dropped off :-( and I am still in holiday mode after my holiday, so proud I still managed to post!)