Author's note: My head hurts, and so does my backbone from sitting so long in this chair. I must the most complainest author here.........
Sorry, guys. This time, it's going to be quantity over quality --. I really loved your reviews! Love love love! That's why I suffered through this agony ..... :D
Diclaimer: This disclaimer states that it did not diss any claims. Oh yea, and DMC's Capcom's.
CHAPTER 9: Unbeatable Team
The devil hunters arrived at the isolated place two hours later, after riding through a rough road between copses and copses of trees. Trish unconsciously muttered to herself about her wind-beaten skin, and threw her tangled silky hair over her shoulders. Dante caught her words, and looked at her silently. Yes, the woman's skin was definitely more sensitive than ever.
"You, there!" A shrill, shaky voice called out to them. "Please hurry!"
Trish swiveled her head to face a youth, about 5 metres away. It looked as if he had showered in blood. His entire front shirt was just drenched in the red stuff, and if one inspected closely, could see little bits and pieces of…
She rather not see. Her stomach was already a little queasy: no need to intensify it further. She jumped off the bike, and dashed towards the man. "Hey. Where are you hurt?"
The teen looked into her eyes with blank, crazed eyes. "Hurt? No, I'm not hurt. Not even a scratch. But the others…" He started laughing hysterically. "They're all dead! Dead! Dead!" The laughter cut off abruptly, and just as sudden, tears spilt down his bloody cheeks, leaving clean trails in their wake.
The young man suddenly shuddered, and pulled off his shirt. He threw it on the ground, with a noise of disgust and sorrow. Thick tears curved around his chin and fell, darkening the ground. It seemed he had calmed down, somewhat.
Trish couldn't stand people with weak dispositions; they were liable to snap and go nuts. She could feel no pity for the crying boy, only concern that he would keep valuable information from them, if he did go crazy. Which, in cases like these, most victims did: demons tended to have that effect on weak humans. It was best to ask in a business-like manner; detach all senses of emotion from the situation.
"What happened? Don't leave anything out," she coolly questioned.
The young man only pointed a trembling finger towards a looming mansion. "Shadows! Lots and lots of them! I thought one was my shadow. We were having a club meeting, and there were tea, and biscuits---" Here Trish's lips curved into the slightest of smiles. It was funny how the mind worked, remembering unnecessary details. "---The den was bright. I thought it strange that people had shadows."
"Son, there are always shadows where there's light," Dante said, coming up next to the duo, impatience clouding his eyes. He tapped his booted foot.
"The den has overhead lights. The shadows should have been right underneath everyone's feet. Instead, they dragged behind whenever people walked. Like dragging a carcass, or something." The boy's voice was tinged with a bit of indignity, and most of the tremble had disappeared. "I'm not stupid."
Trish gave an inner smile. Good old Dante. His months of practice on making her feel stupid was now paying off: he was making the boy think more clearly by insinuating that the youth was a bit slow. She asked the boy, "How many, in total?"
"Seven men. My father…" The wavering voice trailed off, then came back strong. "My father ringed you. I thought it was absurd that he was risking his life to make a telephone call. But he's dead." The youth choked. Trish thought he was going to start blubbering again, but that did not happen. "I now see why he called you people. I see lots of guns. Slay them. Slaughter them all for my father."
Dante nodded once, and Trish finally smiled. "We'll get them." With that, they both ran up the path leading to the house, and disappeared through the open door.
Trish stopped in the gloom, and turned to Dante. "How many yellows?"
Dante didn't even need to check. "Six, excluding ours. Looks like someone has to stay dead."
"Ha-ha. But we could always use yours." Trish looked around, her long blonde hair swaying around. "This is some place. You know, that kid talks rich."
"Would you believe, I used to talk like that, too?"
The place was one-story a building, but it promised to be large. It was a hunting lodge of some sorts, or perhaps, a club meeting place. The short entrance hallway led to an enormous room, one wall plastered with countless deer antlers. Victorian-style settees were scattered about the floor, and some were ripped in places. A chandelier glittered softly in the dark.
"Oh yes, I forgot that you are royalty. Now I know where you got your trophy idea from." Trish waved her hand towards the display of animal heads. "Too bad you aren't as sophisticated. Your demon heads draw flies, and blood streaks are really difficult to get off wooden walls."
"Blood streaks are also really hard to get out of cotton sheets," Dante retorted.
Trish said two words. "Ice cream."
The halfling shut up.
They stepped through another door, into a darkened, narrow hallway. The only decoration was a set of marble busts. The red carpet lining was plush, yet it softly squished wetly under their weight. The two devil hunters' eyes, both in night vision, saw that their shoes were stained with a red juice.
At the end of the hallway, they came upon a body, the source of the carmine trail. Dante whistled softly. "Looks like we have victim #1."
Trish bent over the motionless body. "Yeah, and it seems Kitty was very angry."
"Understatement of the year. This guy'll be scarred for life. Get him out first, or finish the mission, then get him out?"
"Now who's understating?" Trish stepped into the adjourning room, and was greeted with the stare from a stuffed black panther. She almost blew its head off, thinking it was a Shadow. She shivered. She didn't like this place at all. She hated the bland, glassy stares of once magnificent animals, now stuffed trophies. "Clear out the place first. Wouldn't want the men running around and getting killed again."
The panther's glassy eyes suddenly became two pinpoints of red light. Respnding quickly, Trish smoothly grabbed the shotgun from the holster of her hip, coolly aimed, and fired. She missed.
There was a guttural growl in response to the cacophonous bang. The pinpoints blinked, and all the darkest shadows in the room seemed to merge towards the stuffed panther. The panther exploded, revealing the Shadow underneath. It was truly beautiful, from the long saber-like teeth jutted from its growling mouth, to its eyes, eyes were of the purest ruby-red. Streaks of violet ran through its body, over and over, a never-ending cycle. It padded around the room, warily sizing up the two humans.
From experience, Trish knew the Shadow wouldn't attack until it judged its opponent. She definitely didn't want to give it any hints on how she moved; it was dangerous enough without predicting her moves. Raising her hand, she fired again, the saw-off end giving an acrid smoke.
The shadow, sensing her movement, leaped towards her at full speed, for it was a creature from old, and it didn't know what a gun was. The bullet met its face, and it leaped back. It went back in stalking mode, now extremely cautious.
A faint noise, and it withdrew into the floor, forming a puddle. The puddle crept toward her, and no bullets left the shotgun, for Trish knew it couldn't be hurt like this. She stood her ground, gun always pointed between the two pinpoints of light. With frightening speed, the Shadow shot from the floor, just inches from her face. Trish then squeezed the trigger. From experience, Shadows were damaged most easily when they were attacking, and in this range.
It leapt back, startled and hurt. Another leap and it was out the door. It stopped in midair, though, for Ebony and Ivory were pumping lead into it. The cat-like spirit hissed, and executed a clean spin in mid-air---only to be greeted with another shot from Trish's weapon. Its spells weakened; it could tolerate no more. Its core lifted itself from its back, yellow and red and utterly tempting. Dante lunged towards it, in Stinger fashion, and struck it repeatedly. After about three devil-triggered Stingers, the Shadow re-oriented itself, and changed back to cat-form.
Too late…its sleek body was throbbing and all red, the flashing core embedded in its middle. Vengeance flashed in its eyes, and it leapt towards its first tormentor, Trish. She deftly escaped by rolling underneath it, and kicking it in its belly. The strike heaved it into the air, where it harmlessly exploded.
Trish smiled.
"Good job, partner," Dante re-holstered his guns. "Let's get 'em."
The next Shadow attacked them while they were in the weaponry room. Using teamwork, they easily disposed of it quickly. Seeing nothing of any value, they quickly exited.
Back into another darkened hallway. Both their ears twitched slightly. An intake of air, almost inaudible, somewhere. Trish instinctively rolled sideways, and Dante jumped up, right on top of a black, deadly spear. Ebony and Ivory whipped out and began their work.
Trish started shooting, too, until she heard a guttural garble. She didn't have time to look up, only time to dodge again. A Shadow came smashing down, in the form of a wheel, with a wicked blade in front. The carpet was ripped in two, and the wood underneath caught its blade, temporarily trapping the cat.
Trish wasted no time, shooting and reloading as fast as she could, combining her devil powers (although weakened) with her gun. The Shadow, shifting shape, then tried to swipe at her. "Bingo!" She breathed, as the core revealed itself. She lunged forward, in the same fashion as Dante, Sparda sword bloodthirstily drawn to the exposed weakness.
The sword, instead, hit the cat-like body of another Shadow, suddenly rising up in front of her. Translucent purple spears blasted out, piercing agonizingly through her body, as she, too late, tried to evade.
"Flock---!" Dante was running up the wall from his now-red Shadow, just in time to see Trish injured. He did a backwards jump over the angry spell, confusing it. In its hesitation, it exploded, giving off blood money, and much needed magical healing.
Trish did not hesitate, even in her pain. She rolled and rolled until it wasn't so excruciating to stand. When stand she did, her index finger did a deadly dance, eyes flashing, blood slightly trickling from pale lips. She was doing fairly fine despite her injury, Dante noticed. The core of the second sneaky Shadow revealed itself, just as the first reorganized itself.
"Come on, Kitty," Dante tried to lure the first cat-like spirit towards him. It looked at him, growling furiously. And then ---something awful happened. Red lightening swept around and around its body. It hissed at him again, saber-teeth snapping.
"Holy Featherfaces---Trish! It devil-triggered!" He shot at it. Bad mistake. It went crazy, jumping around and up walls, each contact with any surface making it shoot out purple spikes. The spikes disappeared after a while, and reappeared back on the Shadow's body.
Trish was running, as well, the second Shadow, now crimson, right behind her, maws stretching wide, towards him. She double jumped over the shadow, and ran the other way, far enough to get out of the explosion's radius. The spikes lodged in her arms and chest faded away. She dashed across the site of explosion, healing herself with the cool green mist of an green orb.
A flash of purple light up ahead caught her attention. "Damn that Dante," she whispered to herself. "He always makes them trigger." Running in the direction opposite to where she had went, she caught the sight of the half-demon, squaring off with the first Shadow. One laced with blue lightening, one with red. A black figure, veins running with blue electricity, shot at the cat. Magnificent black wings were scrunched up in the narrow hallway.
The black demon caught her eye. Even under extreme danger, a trace of a smile curved the demon's lips. "They always choose a cramped hallway so I can't show off my wings," he called off to her. "Get it."
Trish grinned back. Lacing her electricity with her shotgun, she fired as rapidly as she could. The cat, not expecting this intrusion, turned, only to get fried by Dante's blue lightening. It weakened. Trish stabbed, summoning all her devil powers in one powerful thrust. As she did so, a black figure rushed past her.
It was too late to stop her momentum, and all she could do was finish the move. The core exploded in a fiery flash of light, as the spell broke. Trish back-flipped twice to avoid the bomb-like kamikaze. "Guess I'm still not that weak, when I focus all my power into one blow," she grinned, though her arms were aching horribly. She turned to face Dante.
Dante, who was on his knees, impaled by a black spear. He was directly behind her. The spear withdrew, and Dante's blood spewed out. He got up, a hole in his chest.
"I hate it when they do that." He touched the hole, briefly, and the blood flow slowed considerably.
Trish couldn't believe it. How could she not have sensed another shadow lurking right behind her? How come she didn't sense the Shadow that appeared in front of her when she was stabbing another? She stood there, dumbfounded.
Dante shot her a look, and shrugged. "So I'm not funny." He started shooting again. He shot at the Shadow, which had leapt up onto the ceiling, and began its freewheeling descent, blade in front, until the very last millisecond, moving gracefully out of the way. "Come on, Trish! We don't want another attack."
Trish snapped out of her thoughts, and, suddenly furious, went charging towards the black spirit, shotgun crackling angrily with electricity. Dante, sensing her fury, stepped aside.
She defeated it within seconds.
Whe she rejoined him the female looked at Dante. He wasn't even breathing hard, whereas she was panting audibly. She seemed to be the only one who was slight perspiring, which made her feel even more inferior.
"When will this stupid curse end?" She asked him crossly.
Dante, quickly understanding what she was talking about, gave her a look-over. "I guess 3 days, give or take a day. Sure, you're a bit weakened, but it'll end."
"I sure hope so. My lack of sensitivity of really sucks."
"I gather you don't know, or didn't sense, that we still have 3 Shadows to defeat?"
Trish pouted, then smiled. "Guess I'd have to make up for it by defeating them all myself!" Picking up the increasingly heavy Sparda sword, she ran towards yet another room, Dante close behind her.
Trish was stubborn, he thought. But he was impressed by her stamina. Although she was weaker than he was now, he knew that her energy would never let her fall. And if he could help it, he would never allow her to fall, either.