AN: I am sorry Trish fans about all the meaness to her. I like her, she is a cool char. But this is a vital part of my fic. Trust me
Disclaimer: I dont own DMC, Dante, Trish or Mudus (he is mentioned. ). I Only own this comp, my chars and well... ok nothing else. But I do own all the original chars!
Chapter 5
Twelve hours passed in agonizing slowness after Trish left to meet a client. She had not yet returned from her errand, and there had been no word. Dante was getting visibly angry at her. He was beginning to think she had completely forgotten about it and went home or to a bar.
Crystal watched him with interest, slightly amused at his body language. Dante was obviously annoyed at the whole situation. Though, to give him his due, he did attempt to hide it, he just wasn't very successful. She laughed inwardly at his posture. He sat with his feet on the desk like normal but his jaw was clenched shut and his arms crossed. She couldn't help it anymore. She just had to say something.
"Have you tried calling where she lives?" she asked with a hint of a laugh masked within her question.
"No," he replied flatly.
"How about her favorite hang outs?" she pressed.
Dante's eyebrow twitched. Though he was thankful for her help, her questions were annoying him. "I haven't done that yet…" he stated through clenched teeth.
Crystal stopped offering her help when she noticed his anger increasing. She had to admit, though, he looked pretty hot when he was angry. Another thought she kept to herself.
Dante abruptly stood and walked towards the door sending a small glance at Crystal. "I'm going to a bar for a drink," he said curtly.
She sat up abruptly. "You can't just leave me here alone!" she exclaimed.
"Babe, the bar I am going to, women don't generally go to. Unless they are lesbians," he said with an exasperated tone.
He looked away when he noted her slightly alarmed look changing to a hurt expression. She knew he was going to watch strippers at a club. He gave a low inaudible grunt and walked outside and down the street to the nearest club.
Slowly Trish's vision came back, at first blurry, but slowly becoming clearer. She looked around her, slightly dazed. She attempted to move her arms but they wouldn't obey her orders. When she looked over, she sighed as she saw she was chained.
Everything began coming back to her. Her capture, Crystal, the old woman. She sighed sadly hoping what she was told about the elderly lady being killed off wasn't true. As much as she wanted to find out if she truly was dead or not, she couldn't do anything.
Trish needed to find a way to tell Dante everything about Crystal. She started pulling hard on the chains, hoping she might be able to pull them out of the wall. She failed, the bolts holding the chains to the wall didn't budge.
The sound of a door opening then shutting caught Trish's attention. She looked over in the direction of the noise and saw Gheis and a slightly shorter man with brown hair and vividly green eyes, so bright they were almost glowing.
"Ah good you're awake. You can finally meet my master," Gheis stated with a nearly-pleased tone. "This is our dear Crystal's father, Lord Adriano. But you already knew that didn't you." Gheis' grin grew wider with sinister pleasure.
"You must be Trish…" Adriano said. He looked displeased, as if he expected more from her.
Adriano leaned forward to Trish, his long hair falling over his shoulders, barely grazing his black, skin-tight, cotton shirt. He looked her over closely, examining her. "Hmm. Well, I am sure Dante Sparda will come for you if he cares about you as much as believed. You do look like his mother after all, right?" he stated cynically. "Of course that is already known. Mundus told me…" he murmured.
He turned and sauntered out of the room. "Make her comfortable will you Gheis?" Adriano asked absently.
Gheis bowed quickly then turned back to Trish. "Absolutely my lord," he answered with satisfying glee.
Moments after the door shut behind Adriano, the ebony-haired demon walked to a table and unrolled a teal-colored cloth on it, containing many needles and other objects of torture.
Dante looked down at the slightly crumpled slip of paper in his hand, checking it against the numbers on the side of the old Victorian house in front of him.
Satisfied he was at the right house, he moved up to knock on the door. When no answer came, he knocked again, harder this time. This was odd, he thought, upon again receiving no answer. If Trish was still here, which she must be, she would have heard and answered the door by now.
At this point, he was frustrated and growing impatient. He pushed the door open with more force than he perhaps should have. He stumbled forward a bit, surprised at the lack of resistance offered by the latch.
He looked at the lock and saw that it had been previously broken. His stomach twisted a bit, he wasn't getting a good feeling about this situation. Dante ventured further into the house. He turned towards the kitchen and started examining the various items adorned on shelves. He walked to a shelf on a window sill, picking up a framed picture.
Dante closely studied the three people in it, a blonde-haired angel, and a man with shoulder-length, brown hair pulled back into a pony-tail and a baby with green eyes and a happy face. Both parents were holding the baby and smiling, giving off the perfect impression of a happy family.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what looked like a ransacked living room. Dante quickly took the picture out of the frame and pocketed it. After seeing the angel in the picture, something told him this small case would turn out bigger than he had initially thought.
Dante walked into the room and saw a devastating site that would cause anyone to be sick to their stomach, if they weren't used to this type of destruction.
Sprays of blood filled the walls, signs of slashing were everywhere. The floral couch was split in two. The desk in the corner of the room had scores of slashing on its oak exterior. Down on the floor was a body with one stab mark in its back.
Dante knelt down beside it and turned over the corpse, his silvery-blue eyes examining the body carefully. A frown appeared on his lips, when he saw the dead body was a helpless old woman. He moved his hand to her neck to check for a pulse, but his search for life in her was in vain. Her skin was cold.
As Dante's hand dropped to his side, a dark shadow slowly moved in behind him. The demon rose up behind him, its eyes glowing red. It raised its scythe above its head, preparing to slash down the silver-haired warrior.
As soon as its weapon was fully raised, Dante pulled out Ebony and Ivory; he turned and fired a series of shots at it. The demon fell back with a roar of pain and died within seconds.
Dante stood slowly and looked around at the other appearing devils. He gave a smirk. "I doubt any of you will tell me what happened to Trish," he stated dryly, his guns resting at his sides.
All of the demons jumped at him at once, Dante frowned and started firing his guns at the demons. One charged ahead at him. Dante kicked it down then jumped onto its back and shot it three times in the head with Ivory while shooting at one to his left with Ebony.
After finishing off the remainder of the demons, Dante holstered the guns, "Shit…" he muttered. He feared this might have been a ploy to keep him busy.
He turned and marched out of the house and started in a full sprint down the street towards 'Devil Never Cry'.
Dante ran in the door of his office, expecting to see a battle playing out between the girl and the demons. But he didn't, he just saw Crystal sleeping on the couch. He let out a sigh of relief. He walked over to his desk and sat down.
Dante cracked open a beer and downed it like he always did after battles. He set the empty bottle down on the desk and opened a new one. He leaned to his left side, pulled the picture out of his pocket and looked it over while he downed half the new bottle. He flipped it over to the back and took another drink.
He squinted his eyes upon seeing faded writing on it. He couldn't make it out in the waning light of the arriving evening. Dante quickly gave up on trying to read it and set the picture down on his desk as he finished the beer and set it down next to the other empty bottle.
Frustrated at the lack of an alcoholic buzz, he opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out a bottle of whiskey and opened it. Without pause he took a long draw. In moments, half the bottle was gone and he was finally feeling a buzz.
Dante smirked at this. He furthered his intoxication by drinking the rest of what remained in the bottle. He leaned back in the chair and looked at the ceiling briefly, as if studying it for some clues as to how to continue his search for Trish. Moments later, he drifted of to sleep, empty whiskey bottle in hand, dangling just above the ground, with one leg resting on the desk.
About an hour or two after Dante fell asleep, Crystal woke and sat up slowly. She gave a small yawn, and then saw Dante sleeping at his desk. The position he was in intrigued her. She got up and walked over to him without making a sound.
She silently reviewed his features, her eyes traveling from his black biker boots up his loose, soft-looking, black-leather pants to his white wife-beater top held close to his skin underneath his red duster. The thin fabric of his white top showed the definition of his chest, inducing a moment of devilish fantasy before she forced herself to move on. Her eyes finally rested on his face. She couldn't believe how peaceful he looked when he slept. She stared for a moment or two as she admired the perfection of his features. She smiled in her own girlish fancy. She could now see why a lot of girls stared at him.
Her eyes were drawn down to the desk where she saw a picture. She picked it up, curious of what it was. She tried to make out the faded writing on the back but couldn't. She flipped it over to study the front. Her eyes widened when her eyes lay upon the family in the picture. For a moment, she couldn't tear her eyes from the man in it. She crumpled the picture and tossed it back on the desk as if it was diseased and backed away.
Did Dante know about her? she wondered. No he cant, he doesn't know who the baby is in the picture. She continued to think as she attempted to calm her racing thoughts.
She walked back to the couch and sat on it, deciding it would be best if she didn't drill him on it when he woke. She just squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to dismiss the picture from her mind.
Never again, she thought. I will never go back…