Yay. Finally another chapter….Took long enough. Sorry for the wait and big BIG thanks for all the reviews. Really appreciate hearing what you guys think.
So hears the next chap
Enjoy
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Awake & Dead
Chap 3: Fighting to Lose
Stavios watched helplessly as the devil hunter vanished into darkness. He had had the son of Sparda in his grasp and had let him go.
It would happen after all.
He roared and kicked the ground, stopping suddenly as a thought came to his mind. 'Perhaps he is not out of range...'
Dante flew through the air as fast as he could. Even though he was exhausted and in pain, his body was just a second thought to him. He had to get back to the city-back to Trish. He had to know if it was true-if it was too late.
Come back
The devil hunter stopped abruptly, his body acting without his consent. He flapped in mid air and began to turn back the way he had come.
"NO!"
He tried to fight the urge to return to the cemetery, but it was no use. He was flying back, despite his inner protests. Why was his body not obeying him?
'That's back son of Sparda.' The dark haired vampire smiled, his eyes shut as he concentrated on bringing the devil hunter to him.
"Do you honestly believe that you can stop the future that way?"
Stavios' eyes shot open and darted behind him to the clown. He growled. "That was my intent."
Jester chuckled. "You are wasting your time."
"Perhaps," the vampire said calmly, "But perhaps not. We shall see whose time has been wasted soon enough." He looked to the sky and saw the dark shadow of Dante coming towards Gauntway.
The evil clown turned his own head to the clouds, frowning. "The darkness cannot be stopped and we will not let you have the son of Sparda. He is much too important to my master."
"I am aware of his importance to you and that is why I must not let you succeed."
Jester grinned menacingly, "I'm afraid you don't have the option of stopping this." He opened his jacket, revealing a small pendant on a chain. Stavios turned at the sound of the shuffling cloth and his eyes widened.
"You are the one-"
Flash
Stavios rammed his foot into the dirt, crying out in frustration. He paused at the all too familiar scene; the thought of drawing the devil hunter to him coming to mind.
"Something the matter, Vampire?"
The dark-haired man spun round to face the clown and charged without warning. "YOU!" he yelled, vaulting forwards in an attempted tackle.
A smile spread across his enemy's lips.
Flash
Stavios went from watching the retreating devil hunter in the sky to staring at his own blood, leaking through his fingers as he leaned forward on his knees, holding his stomach. His eyes drifted up slowly to the clown standing before him; a marionette waiting patiently at his side, one of its pendulum blades dripping with the vampire's blood.
Stavios grimaced and closed his eyes, concentrating with all his will to luring the devil hunter back to the cemetery.
"Are you still attempting to bring the son of Sparda back here so that you may kill him?" The dark clown scowled and nodded at the marionette, which sliced its blade through the vampire's shoulder. Stavios howled in pain and fell forwards.
"Y-yes," he mumbled, somewhat into the dirt.
"Look at me when you address my questions."
Stavios felt his arms gradually jerked upwards on invisible strings, his right arm hanging in agony. He lifted his head, gritting his teeth and staring at Jester with malice as blood from his shoulder gash dripped down his face and hair.
He winced. "I will do whatever it takes to stop the future that I have been shown."
Jester laughed, "I have told you before that your time is being wasted. You have already ended your life foolishly, and now you choose to wage a fruitless battle with the darkness. Don't you see?" He opened his jacket, revealing the pendant to the vampire once more, "That even if you were to succeed in killing the devil hunter, your efforts would prove worthless. I control time. Or have you forgotten?"
Stavios' eyes visibly widened at the last remark. He had not even considered that time could easily be reversed if he killed Dante. Had he been wasting centuries for nothing? Had he truly ended his life so long ago in vain?
"No!" he growled, "This can't be..."
Jester smirked. "I'm afraid it can," he said sardonically, "You have lost. The devil hunter is now out of your reach and he will soon come upon the wonderful scene I and my puppets have left for him."
"And in any case," he waved his hand, "You are in no shape to battle the son of Sparda. You spent what little energy you had toying with him earlier. I can see that. You are tired…And you are hungry. You should have fed on that loathsome child you took pity on…Such foolishness for a vampire."
He sneered and Stavios fell silent. Missing the look of disdain on the clown's frightful face, he stared blankly at the ground and the droplets of blood dribbling off his chin. The clown was right. He was exhausted and he had overestimated his own powers. Even if he managed to pull Dante back, he hadn't the strength now to kill him. He was weak from the lack of blood and his face and body were finally showing the signs of centuries of thirst.
Without thinking, he flicked his tongue over his lips, tasting the blood that had edged down his face into the parting of his mouth. His or no, the brief tingle it sparked throughout his body was enough to intensify his hunger and strengthen his feeling of misery and helplessness.
He could not believe that it was over already-That he had failed.
"But perhaps it is not as dismal as it appears," Jester continued with a delighted coolness to his voice. "You're outlook may soon change." He turned, a dark pool appearing before him. "Things always look brighter in the morning..."
Stavios lifted his eyes up suddenly, realizing in horror that the sky was paling. His breath caught in his throat and he struggled agonizingly against the marionette's spell, but he gave up after a short time, gasping against his dislocated arm as he hung feebly over the ground.
Jester took a last grinning look at him and disappeared with the marionette into the shadow, the black hole closing behind them, a lingering dark chuckle drifting from them to the vampire's ears.
Dante saw the city come into view and breathed a sigh of relief, however short-lived it was. Somehow seeing the tall, brightly lit buildings made him breath slightly easier, even if his heart was still beating a mile a minute.
He burst through the low hanging clouds and tore down towards the streets, anxious to reach ground before his devil trigger ran out. He touched down just as the blue aura disappeared and he became human again. Looking around, he realized he was on the other side of town and nowhere near Devil May Cry. It would take him the rest of the night just to run back to DMC and by then, Dante knew he would be too late.
He looked up and down the street at the rows of parked cars and ran to the nearest one, more than ready to steal it when he happened to hear the low rumble of a car approaching. He turned and whipped out his guns and moved into the street, pointing the barrels at the surprised driver. The man's car screeched to a halt before Dante and he walked casually towards the driver's door and tapped on the glass with one of his handguns.
"Get out."
The terrified motorist hesitated for only a second before he quickly flung off his seatbelt and jumped out of the car. Dante climbed in right after him, not wanting to waste anymore time.
"Thanks buddy," he said as the tires swerved and he took off down the road, driving like a mad man. He didn't care who he ran over or how many traffic laws he broke at this point. Trish was his only concern and he had to get back to her, no matter the cost. It had already seemed like an eternity just to get where he was now, especially having felt earlier that he was backtracking for an instant, and he was not about to stop for anything if it meant he could get to the blond woman in time.
After a quarter of the time it would have normally taken the devil hunter to drive across town, Dante arrived before the neon lights of Devil May Cry, nearly jumping out of the car before it had stopped completely. He ran up to the wooden doors and froze, suddenly unable to face what was inside.
He needed to know, but he didn't want to know, if the grizzly visions he had seen earlier in the night were real. How could he just waltz right in and see Trish dead-and not just dead-massacred, right in their bedroom? The vision was bad enough but the reality of it would be a million times worse.
"Trish..."
Dante's forehead hit the door and he remained there, leaning against it while he took long breathes, trying to calm himself. His hand went for the door handle but grazed the smooth metal and fell off. He took another deep breath and grasped the handle feebly, pushing the door inwards. He stepped inside and the air immediately constricted in his throat from the sweet smell of blood. The optimist in him vanished completely. Trish was dead. There was no question about it.
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Short. I know but I needed to get this up so I could move on to the next chap which should be pretty long.
Anyway, please remember to review.
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