Explanations
"Hey, you didn't answer my question." Trish caught up with Dante as he stopped in front of the bookcase that covered the wall opposite his ghastly trophies.
"What?" he said absentmindedly.
"Who is Lewis Carroll?"
"Oh, he wrote a book about some girl who crawled down a rabbit hole. I think it's on the second shelf near the middle." Dante pointed as he pulled out a volume about gods with the other hand.
Trish found the book he pointed to and read the title, Alice's adventures in Wonderland. She started to leaf through it, stopping at times to read selected parts of the text.
"Dante, this is a children's book. Have you read this?"
Dante looked up and suddenly realised what they were talking about.
"No, I haven't!"
"But, how come you know the plot, then!?"
"Ehh… ok, I might have read it at some point. You know…research."
"Research!? In case you should be attacked by a deranged stack of cards armed with…flamingos?"
"Ehh…yeah. Hurry up now, we have work to do." Dante quickly disappeared up the stairs, leaving Trish, who roared with laughter, behind him.
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The large sword cut through the air, swirling around its wielder, obeying her every thought. Her slender frame concealed a remarkable strength. Effortlessly she twirled and danced around the room with her Claymore in a firm grip, attacking and blocking imagined foes.
A shrill tone caught her attention and while wiping the sweat from her forehead she pressed the button on the intercom with the tip of the sword.
"Yes?"
"You have visitors, Madame."
"Show them to the library Alicia, and tell them that I will be with them momentarily."
Neva stretched her muscles as she walked up to one of the walls of the room. It was covered with a wide variety of weapons from all over the world, collected during the long span of her life. An empty space showed the Claymore's resting place. It was her favourite weapon despite, or maybe because of, its weight and its massive blade. Compared to a katana it was more like a sledgehammer then a sword but she liked the momentum it gave. Her inhuman strength gave her the possibility to wield the two-handed sword effortlessly. Neva hung it back on the wall and in her mind she went through what she would tell the devil hunter and his companion.
By concentrating for a second Neva transformed her battle gear into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. She let down her hair and quickly combed her fingers through it as she walked towards the door that connected the armoury with the library. Stepping through the doorway she saw Trish lounging in one of the brown leather chairs, while Dante paced up and down the length of the room fully armed in his usual fashion. Trish had laid Sparda on the large desk which Neva used for maps.
At the sound of the door closing, Dante stopped his pacing and looked up. Neva could sense that he was agitated and she knew that it was the involvement of his family that had gotten to him. She had observed him for a while now and she knew that this was his only weak point. A grief stricken child within him still relived that tragic day, whenever he was reminded of his family.
"Please sit, make yourselves at home." With an inviting gesture Neva motioned for Dante to sit down in the other chair beside Trish. With a brief shake of his head Dante declined, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned his shoulder against a bookcase. With a silent sigh Neva sat down on the edge of her desk.
"Well, I am glad that you both came, even though I can see that you still do not trust me. As I said before I need your help. And this," she said as she put her hand on a big book that was lying beside her,"is the reason why."
Trish rose from the chair and leaned forward to look at the book.
"Al Azif…this looks really old."
"Yes it is. It was written in 724 A.D. by the Moorish poet Abdul Alhazred who later went mad and died. It is also known as the Necronomicon or the Book of Dead Names. This book contains the truth about the Elder Ones that once reigned over the earth."
"Like demons and stuff?"
"No, long before demons and humans were created. Civilizations have risen and fallen between their time and ours. Many stories and legends around the world contain fragments of the truth about the Elder Ones. In some they have been portrayed as monsters, in some as gods. All stories still agree upon one thing: they came as destroyers to lay waste the earth in their search for more power and dark magic. Without doubt they would have succeeded if not the Ancient Gods had become aware of their schemes and had been angered by the Elder Ones attempts to challenge them. Without hesitation the mighty gods cast them into oblivion."
Trish ran her fingers across the bindings of the book and shrugged her shoulders.
"What's the problem then? The monsters are gone and everyone lived happily ever after."
"Unfortunately," Neva said dryly, "the monsters are not gone. There is one in particularly that is a problem. He is called Cthulhu. Even though he is not one of the Elder Ones he holds unbelievable powers. He is the High Priest, and when the stars are properly aligned he will summon the Elder Ones and they will yet again reign over the world."
Against his will Dante's interest was awoken. He had a faint memory of hearing someone talk about the book that was lying on this woman's desk. He casually sauntered closer. It definitely looked its age and seemed to have been through some rough times. The leather cover was engraved with golden letters and decorations, now faded, and the leather it was made of seemed to be unbelievably smooth. When he reached out and stroked his fingers across the leather he realised that it was human skin. Dante scowled, pulled away his hand and looked around at the other books that covered the walls of the room. They were an assorted collection and some seemed as unpleasant as the one occupying the desk. Among the hundreds of books he could make out titles like De vermis mysteriis and Unaussprechlichen Kulten. As he took a closer look, part of the women's conversation caught his attention.
"Why is the sword Dante inherited from his father so important?"
"Force Edge, or Sparda as you call it, was forged with the sole purpose of being the instrument with which Cthulhu would be killed. He, as the Elder Ones, can not be killed by ordinary weapons and certainly not by humans. This is the reason why the dwarfs of Svartálfaheimr forged Force Edge. Their magic…"
A sudden noise interrupted Neva and the library door burst open.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Madame, but we are under attack!" A young woman who Dante recognised as the secretary clung to the doorknob. She was visibly shaken; her eyes were wide with fear. Neva quickly jumped of the desk and grabbed the girl by the arms, shaking her softly.
"Alicia, calm down. Have they broken through the outer defences?"
"Yes, MacDougall has locked down the second floor to prevent further access. What are we going to do?"
"You and the office staff are going to get to the roof and escape in the helicopter. Now go, hurry up!"
Alicia ran out the door to her desk, used the intercom to alert the staff and then she disappeared through a door leading to the roof.
Neva turned to her guests and motioned for them to follow her, picking up Sparda and handing it to Trish. With long strides she walked through the room and through the door into the armoury. As she picked some weapons from the walls she talked to them over her shoulder.
"As you heard, this building is under attack. There is a secret cult that is trying to hinder my mission and its members will stop at nothing. They still do not know of your involvement, so you are in no danger. When you get a chance you should get out of here, I will meet you as soon as I can at your office. We will have to make our way down to the basement in order for you to leave."
Neva transformed her clothes into the outfit with chain mail and top boots that she had worn when Dante and Trish had first meet her. With a sawed-off shotgun strapped to her back, throwing knives in her belt and a short staff in her hand she walked out of the room, heading for the stairs that lead down to the lower floors.
The three made their way down the abandoned stairwell. As they neared the second floor, sounds of fighting became audible. A massive steel door blocked the way. Neva spoke a short command and the sound of bolts moving was heard. The door opened, giving them access to the second floor. Waving Dante and Trish through, she stepped into the room, the door closing behind them.
Mayhem awaited them on the second floor. A crowd of black clad cult members was fighting a small group of Neva's followers. As Dante, Trish and Neva took in the scene a large red haired man briefly became visible in the mass of fighting people. When he saw Neva he made a desperate gesture, signalling the grave situation he and the others were in.
"MacDougall!" cried Neva and then she went head first into the battle, clearing a way with forceful sweeps of her staff. Dante and Trish followed her example and launched into battle. Slowly making his way through the enemy lines Dante caught glimpses of Neva as she was now fighting at MacDougall's side. He had to admit that she seemed to know what she was doing. The number of foes was quickly diminishing and when the room was cleared Neva came up to the devil hunters.
"In the other room there is a stairway that leads directly to the garage in the basement. My men and I will keep these fools at bay so you two can sneak out of here. I will meet up with you later; I just have to clear the building from attackers."
"Sure you don't need any help?" Trish asked, but Neva just shook her head. They stepped into the other room and while Neva, MacDougall and his men took on the new foes, Dante and Trish slipped through the door leading to the stairway.
As they entered the underground garage they were spotted by a small group of cult members. Shouting, they stormed the pair, mistaking them for an easy target. Not bothering to draw their weapons Trish and Dante awaited the attack. Dante sidestepped his first assailant and knocked him out with a high kick to the chin, before turning to knock out another one with a heavy blow of his fist. The fight was quickly over. The black clad members lay scattered on the floor, dead or unconscious. Trish and Dante got on their bikes and left the building behind them, still puzzled and full of questions. Suddenly, something that Neva had said when they first had met, surfaced in Dante's mind.
"Was she around 2500 years ago?"