Dreams of Blue
"Dante..."
He'd heard that voice so many times. It was a voice he'd never forget. Yet, tonight, it seemed to irritate him to no end. He couldn't stand to even look at her, let alone hear her voice or talk to her. He continued along his path, ignoring her all together.
"Dante!"
He clutched his Ivory handgun in his right hand tightly and gritted his teeth. He rose his gunned arm and snapped it back down to his side, turning around to look at her. ...And there she was...in the clutches of the vile creature he was stalking the whole time. He rose the gun, debating whether to shoot or not, but all the while he couldn't decide whether he was he was angry at her for being captured, or worried if she'd get hurt.
And in his confusion, the gun fired.
"Trish...!"
The monster dropped the now lifeless body of Trish, and Dante watched in horror as it seemed to happen in slow motion for him. She fell on her side and rolled over onto her back, her lifeless eyes staring straight into Dante's, as if they were mocking him for being so careless. His jaw dropped slightly and he fell to his knees, staring at the bloody hole in Trish's forehead, as if hypnotized by it. And while in his trance, the demonic creature lept on an oblivious Dante, who, at this point, didn't care whether he died or not. He deserved it after what he had just done to his partner, his best friend, his Trish.
Another gun fired, and it wasn't Dante's. The demon hunter snapped to attention as the sound of gunfire rang through the silent forest. He rubbed his eyes with his palms as the creature fell limply off of him.
"Ha ha! Bull's eye!"
Dante let his arms drop to the hard, bloodsoaked ground and continued to lie on his back, staring up at the starry night sky. His unknown hero, apparently male, walked over to him and sat down. Dante looked over to him, and was shocked to see a man who looked almost exactly like him, with the exception of fashion taste and that fact that this man had black hair that was brushed over his right eye.
"Hey, buddy," the unknown man said. "You a'ight? I heard a gun go off and I rushed over here to help. You were lucky."
"I didn't want your help," Dante said in a monotone voice, looking back up at the sky.
"You woulda died out here."
"I should've."
The stranger glanced past Dante and looked over at a motionless demonic monster, and a very much dead Trish. He looked over at Dante's gun that he had dropped while being tackled, then back at Trish's body.
"You did that to her?" he asked, putting two and two together.
"By accident," Dante continued to speak in a monotone voice, now counting the stars.
The man went silent, not exactly knowing what to say. He swallowed hard and looked around uneasily, jumping slightly when Dante moved into an upright, sitting position. The devil hunter ran a few gloved fingers through his white hair, now silver in the moonlight, and sighed, standing up.
"What were you doing here in the first place?" Dante asked, refusing to make eye contact with his new accquaintance. "Didn't you know these woods were extremely dangerous? Are you lost?"
"No, actually..." he said, jumping to his feet. "When I heard about these woods, I went out to check em out. Thought if that Dante Sparda guy could do it, I could, too! I mean, how hard could it be?"
Dante sighed and turned his back to the stranger and kneeled next to Trish and picked up his gun. He rolled it around in his hand for a while and placed it back in its holster, looking over at Trish's body. He placed his hand over her eyes and gently shut them, taking a deep breath, and bowing his head.
"Harder than you'd think..." he said softly.
The man gasped. "Wait...you're...?!"
"Dante Sparda," he said, not having moved from his position.
"Oh...wow... Well, in case you're wondering, I'm Damien Vega."
"I don't care what your name is..."
"Well, you should," Damien said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Cos I'm not letting you wander off in this forest alone. Let's face it man. You're depressed. If you went alone, you'd end up killing yourself. Now, what would the world do without Dante Sparda?"
Dante smirked to himself and slowly climbed to his feet, staring off into nowhere for a while. He shook his head and turned around to look at the dark-haired man, crossing his arms over his chest with a sly grin to mock him.
"Ok then, Vega," he said. "Consider yourself my new partner. Yup, that's right. I've hired you. We split the money from each mission 50/50. Any questions?"
Damien's draw dropped and he looked around aimlessly for a few seconds. He grinned wide and tilted his head back, throwing his fists up in the air with excitement.
"Whoo hoo!"
"Oh, and one more thing," Dante added. "You're not going to be seen in public with me in that kind of getup. Understand?"
"What's wrong with jeans and a black t-shirt?" he asked.
Dante paused. "...Everything. Now, come on, Vega. Take me home."
"Dante..."
He'd heard that voice so many times. It was a voice he'd never forget. Yet, tonight, it seemed to irritate him to no end. He couldn't stand to even look at her, let alone hear her voice or talk to her. He continued along his path, ignoring her all together.
"Dante!"
He clutched his Ivory handgun in his right hand tightly and gritted his teeth. He rose his gunned arm and snapped it back down to his side, turning around to look at her. ...And there she was...in the clutches of the vile creature he was stalking the whole time. He rose the gun, debating whether to shoot or not, but all the while he couldn't decide whether he was he was angry at her for being captured, or worried if she'd get hurt.
And in his confusion, the gun fired.
"Trish...!"
The monster dropped the now lifeless body of Trish, and Dante watched in horror as it seemed to happen in slow motion for him. She fell on her side and rolled over onto her back, her lifeless eyes staring straight into Dante's, as if they were mocking him for being so careless. His jaw dropped slightly and he fell to his knees, staring at the bloody hole in Trish's forehead, as if hypnotized by it. And while in his trance, the demonic creature lept on an oblivious Dante, who, at this point, didn't care whether he died or not. He deserved it after what he had just done to his partner, his best friend, his Trish.
Another gun fired, and it wasn't Dante's. The demon hunter snapped to attention as the sound of gunfire rang through the silent forest. He rubbed his eyes with his palms as the creature fell limply off of him.
"Ha ha! Bull's eye!"
Dante let his arms drop to the hard, bloodsoaked ground and continued to lie on his back, staring up at the starry night sky. His unknown hero, apparently male, walked over to him and sat down. Dante looked over to him, and was shocked to see a man who looked almost exactly like him, with the exception of fashion taste and that fact that this man had black hair that was brushed over his right eye.
"Hey, buddy," the unknown man said. "You a'ight? I heard a gun go off and I rushed over here to help. You were lucky."
"I didn't want your help," Dante said in a monotone voice, looking back up at the sky.
"You woulda died out here."
"I should've."
The stranger glanced past Dante and looked over at a motionless demonic monster, and a very much dead Trish. He looked over at Dante's gun that he had dropped while being tackled, then back at Trish's body.
"You did that to her?" he asked, putting two and two together.
"By accident," Dante continued to speak in a monotone voice, now counting the stars.
The man went silent, not exactly knowing what to say. He swallowed hard and looked around uneasily, jumping slightly when Dante moved into an upright, sitting position. The devil hunter ran a few gloved fingers through his white hair, now silver in the moonlight, and sighed, standing up.
"What were you doing here in the first place?" Dante asked, refusing to make eye contact with his new accquaintance. "Didn't you know these woods were extremely dangerous? Are you lost?"
"No, actually..." he said, jumping to his feet. "When I heard about these woods, I went out to check em out. Thought if that Dante Sparda guy could do it, I could, too! I mean, how hard could it be?"
Dante sighed and turned his back to the stranger and kneeled next to Trish and picked up his gun. He rolled it around in his hand for a while and placed it back in its holster, looking over at Trish's body. He placed his hand over her eyes and gently shut them, taking a deep breath, and bowing his head.
"Harder than you'd think..." he said softly.
The man gasped. "Wait...you're...?!"
"Dante Sparda," he said, not having moved from his position.
"Oh...wow... Well, in case you're wondering, I'm Damien Vega."
"I don't care what your name is..."
"Well, you should," Damien said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Cos I'm not letting you wander off in this forest alone. Let's face it man. You're depressed. If you went alone, you'd end up killing yourself. Now, what would the world do without Dante Sparda?"
Dante smirked to himself and slowly climbed to his feet, staring off into nowhere for a while. He shook his head and turned around to look at the dark-haired man, crossing his arms over his chest with a sly grin to mock him.
"Ok then, Vega," he said. "Consider yourself my new partner. Yup, that's right. I've hired you. We split the money from each mission 50/50. Any questions?"
Damien's draw dropped and he looked around aimlessly for a few seconds. He grinned wide and tilted his head back, throwing his fists up in the air with excitement.
"Whoo hoo!"
"Oh, and one more thing," Dante added. "You're not going to be seen in public with me in that kind of getup. Understand?"
"What's wrong with jeans and a black t-shirt?" he asked.
Dante paused. "...Everything. Now, come on, Vega. Take me home."