A/N: "Deadly Whispers" is my song; I'm not stealing it from anyone. And I'm sorry I took a while to upload, but I've had a chronic case of Writer's Block.
Flight
Selene shuddered in the cold night air. 'Maybe I should have brought my cloak,' she thought. She glanced back the way she had come. 'I guess I haven't gone too far.' She turned back and slipped back into her bedroom and up to her wardrobe. From there she retrieved her rather heavy black cloak, lined in blood-red satin, swirled it around her shoulders, and pulled up the hood. Out the window again and into the night. But this time she was aware of a voice shouting her name from behind her. She ignored it and quickened her pace. But there were heavy footsteps thudding on the stone. Her father was chasing her. She ran, not looking back once. Dante shouted for her to stop, to wait, but she only sped up more. Soon she realized she couldn't run any faster, and her father was gaining on her. She had only one other option.
"Demon wings, don't fail me now," she said to herself, spreading her arms wide. She felt the demonic power surge through her. Her eyes physically blazed, everything going red. She laughed hollowly as her demon form took hold of her. Her skin blackened, her eyes flashed red, small curving horns grew from her forehead, and six black-feathered wings ripped forth from behind her shoulders. Even her clothing changed to a costume of black and blood-red leather. She grunted and leapt into the air, stretching her wings wide.
"No!" shouted Dante, but he no longer mattered. He was beneath her now. Literally and figuratively. He was part of some world that she did not belong to anymore. She reached for the sky and the blood-red moon and soared away to Mallet Island.
Dante returned to the club with a heavy heart. Trish was waiting for him anxiously.
"Well? What happened? Where is she? Where's our daughter?" she demanded frantically as soon as she saw him. Dante looked up at her wearily and shook his head. "Oh no. She didn't go there…"
"She did," said Dante. "She transformed into her demon self and took off for Mallet Island."
"We're going after her," said Trish decidedly.
"Are we?" asked Dante. "Come and see." He led her to the shed where they kept the plane. The propeller had been torn off and broken, the wings were slashed to pieces, and the engine was lying in pieces all over the floor. "She's two steps ahead of us. This will take weeks to repair!" Trish surprised him by handing him a wrench and a pair of work gloves.
"Starting now," she said and set to work.
Flying is an exhilarating experience, especially for the first time. That is, unless you're on a mission of proving yourself and vengeance and can't even feel the flight because you essentially don't exist anymore but are locked away in a stronger, darker form of yourself. That's how it was for Selene. She had never flown before, and she didn't know what it was like now that she was. Selene was sleeping inside Demon Selene, who was flying for her. She awoke and regained control when they landed on Mallet Island. Before she continued on, she decided to shift Alastor down to her side instead of on her back. It would be easier to access that way. That done, she looked about the fortress of her father's extraordinary tales with a critical eye. Everything was crumbling, falling apart. Hadn't the entire island been destroyed when Mundus had been banished back to the Underworld?
'He must have rebuilt it,' she thought, walking along the broken path to the door. 'Not well, but he was probably in a hurry. Homey décor wouldn't be the first thing on my To-Do List if I had just escaped the Underworld. He'll probably get to that after he takes over the world. That is, he would, if he was going to be around that long. Well, he's not. I'm going to kill him.' By now she had reached the door, but she had to duck through it since it hadn't been completely reconstructed. As soon as she was inside several large rocks fell in front of the door, blocking her way out.
"Well, I'm not leaving that way," she muttered, looking around the hall she had entered. The floor was cracked and uneven. The stairs were askew. Only the great statue of the horseman riding to war was fully intact. "Humph. I didn't come here to admire the architecture, I came here to kick some ass." So saying, she went to one of the doors. It was locked, just as her father had said. Sighing, she went to the other, expecting a red shield to block it until she paid it with Red Orbs. Surprisingly, it didn't. She continued with caution up to the tower, singing quietly to herself as she went:
"Something's stirring in the night
As all the world is sleeping
And deadly whispers ride the wind
As silent eyes are weeping
Deadly whispers gently slip
Down the river of nighttime's dreaming…"
She broke off as she reached the top of the tower. 'I really need to finish that song someday,' she thought as she climbed up into the very top room. A Bloody Mari hung in the corner, holding the rusty key she needed. She knew that taking the key would awaken the Puppets and Maris, but she had to. Pulling a face, she reached out and took the key, attempting not to touch the Mari in the process.
"I hate these suckers," she muttered, wiping the key off on a scrap of cloth lying on the floor. "Oh well. Makes 'em all the most fun to vivisect." With that, she hopped down through the hole in the floor and headed for the stairway. Immediately, she was waylaid by a Bloody Mari and a Bloody Puppet. She disposed of them easily, scattering their remains contemptuously. 'If that's you have to throw at me, Mundus, then I won't be here long,' she thought. She knew better, though. She returned to the entrance hall and opened the locked door. Behind it she found the room which had once held a huge biplane, which now belonged to her parents. There was only a great gaping hole where the plane had once rested now. With a small shrug, she went to the next door, only to have to dodge a barrier that grabbed at her. There were words carved around the door:
"The 17 Puppets are my masters. There will be no admission as long as my masters are here."
"OK, terrific," Selene said, rolling her eyes. "So where are they?" As if to answer her question, she suddenly found herself strung up by puppet strings. Dry, creaking laughs sounded behind her as she was turned around. Seventeen Bloody Puppets stood before her. Her lip curled in disgust. "I hate you all," she said bluntly before slicing her way free and hacking at the Puppets around her. They were caught off-guard and didn't last very long against her dancing blade. When they were destroyed, the seal on the door lifted and Selene went through.
She found herself in the corridor from her dream. Cautious, she continued up the stairs. She was soon besieged by Bloody Maris and Puppets again, but they were disposed of just as easily as the last batch. She had to open the cathedral, she knew, but something was making her uneasy. She touched Alastor, just to make sure it was still there as she approached the carving. To her surprise, the carving was of Alastor herself, not the Judge of Death as it should have been. Alastor quivered on her back, then sailed to the carving's hand. A voice spoke:
"I am Alastor. The weak shall give their heart and swear their eternal loyalty to me."
"No, wait, I'm only borrowing the sword, it belongs to my father and he was already tested, so there's really no need to-" she began, but the carving did not hear her. The sword turned in Alastor's hand and shot out at Selene before she could even blink. "Oof," was all she could say as the blade pierced her through and impaled her to the floor where she lay as though dead. After a moment, she twitched and her eyes snapped open. Groaning slightly, she planted her feet firmly on the ground and started to push herself up.
'This is uncomfortable to the highest degree,' she thought, clenching her teeth as she reached the hilt. She hesitated for a moment, then forced herself through it, stumbling forwards, dizzy, while she healed. She spun around and seized the hilt, feeling Alastor's power course through her for the first time. She gave it a few experimental swings. Nothing wrong now. Satisfied, she tossed it into the air, caught it, and slid it down her back in almost one fluid movement. She turned back to the carving. It was now the Judge of Death, holding the Staff of Judgment. Her eyes narrowed. That wasn't right. The Staff of Judgment was hidden in some underground room behind the library. It wasn't supposed to be already in the statue. Still, it was one less thing for her to do and put her one step closer to Mundus. But she was wary as she entered the cathedral. Even so, she failed to hear the dark laughter echo in the corridor as the cathedral door shut behind her.