2. Evil People

Now, 15 years later

For the ninth time, Dante downed another bottle of his favorite brand of beer. While most people have a limit, he didn't. It took a lot to make Dante drunk.

"Sebastian, let's have another."

The bartender was a thin yet fit fellow. His aggressive features hid a pleasant personality. Hardly the type of guy who would run a bar called Evil People. The bar / discothèque / biker club was a nexus for all sorts of sub culture types. People who liked leather, pale skin and fangs, raving, dancing, and all the in betweens could find someone here to spend time with. Or the average customer like Dante can come for the discounted beer and stimulating conversation.

"Can you believe some jerk crashed into my front while back out of a parking!" Sebastian yelled over the upbeat electronic tempo. "I swear people must be bribing the DMV to get licenses."

"I hear you," Dante said, feigning listening.

"No insurance to top it off. I bought the car like three months ago. Bam! Makes me want to put a bullet in someone."

"You can always point me in the right direction," Dante said sympathetically. Turning he scanned the dance floor. A huge crowd of people moved, jumped, and gesticulated to rhythm of the music and alternately the flashing lights. As the lights would turn off, the glow of the luminescent sticks filled the dance floor. To the right of the bar, Dante eyed the jukebox. On nights like these, no one used it. Actually, no one really used it anymore. With his latest bottle in hand, he cut his way through the masses and stood before the anachronistic machine. His finger went down the list of song until finally he pressed the bright red button beside his selection. His ears tuned to the sound of the juke box's speakers, he heard the first bars of James Brown singing "It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World." Once more taking his spot at the bar, Dante took another sip from his beer.

"Hey there, Merc."

Dante glanced to his side. Someone new had sat themselves next to him on a bar stool. His sun-tanned features, auburn hair and Texan accent were unmistakable. Sitting there as if not a day had passed in fifteen years was Henry Todd. He was still dressed in the desert camouflage they had worn on the mission. Curiously missing was any indication that he had been burnt alive.

"Well, if it isn't Henry Todd. Funny, last time I saw you, I could have sworn you were French toast along with Lean Jean, Grace, and Stevie Wonder."

"Yeah?" he answered simply. Dante noticed the he was grinning, annoyingly. It was one of those grins that you had to hate. The kind that needs a good fist in the teeth.

"Aren't you the least bit curious how I got here?"

I think I can guess. You made a deal with the Devil to get your body back. The question is what your side of the bargain is?"

"Not bad. You seem to know all about me. How about I tell you a little about yourself," Todd slowly leaned forward and placed his lips by his ear. "Son of Sparda."

"So, they gave you an education besides a new face; it doesn't change the fact that you're still a lousy merc."

"I hear you're looking for a devil, one in particular. The one that took your mom and brother away." He once more placed himself by Dante's ear, "I know where he is."

Dante's fist struck him quicker than he could react. Todd fell to the floor in no time at all. Grabbing his collar, he started to drag him across the floor.

"Sebastian, I'm taking this one outside. It might get messy."

Todd's hand suddenly grabbed Dante's. "Why? We could have so much fun right here!"

A piercing heat forced Dante to release Todd. He looked at his hand in disbelief. His glove had practically turned to ash. "What the hell?" He watched as Todd got up from the floor, the grin still prominent on his face.

"Hey Dante, I hear Jerry Lewis playing, it's Great Balls of Fire!" In Todd's hand a sphere of pure flame formed and he threw it at Dante. Back flipping allowed Dante to avoid getting hit, but the floor was not so lucky. A wall of flame divided Dante from Todd. The crowd meanwhile had turned into a panic. From the holsters concealed under his crimson coat, Dante pulled his guns. Immediately he started firing upwards yelling at the top of his lungs. "Move out of here, now!" Sebastian on the other side followed suit as well as grabbing his shotgun from under the bar. As he exited with the crowd, the bartender took a shot at Todd. Dante jumped through the flames and unleashed his own barrage of fire. Todd ignored the barkeeper and maintained his focus on Dante. To Dante's surprise his bullets had no effect.

"Okay, Todd, I'm impressed. You just may be worth some effort."

"You haven't even scratched the surface yet devil man."

Once again Dante fired his weapons. This time he tried searching for a weak spot. None became apparent. His bullets seemingly stopped just short of hitting their target before disappearing.

"You can't shot what you can't reach. The ambient heat from body melts those pot shots of yours before they can even touch me!" Todd suddenly summoned more fireballs and unleashed them upon the ceiling and floor of the bar. "Is it hot in here or is just me?" His grin became a prelude to his equally obnoxious laughter.

The fires quickly consumed their surroundings and the ceiling caved in. Running through the flames and into the city streets outside became a gauntlet. When he finally did, Dante saw that the various crowds had left to the relative safety of their vehicles and were attempting to drive away. A massive explosion of fire heralded Todd's exit from the bar. As he did, the massive "Evil People" sign dropped behind him. "What's the matter, people? This party too hot for you?" he exclaimed as he threw flames at various cars and bikes.

"You son of a bitch! This is between you and me. Leave these people out of this!" Dante yelled. He rushed to a nearby car in flames and pulled an unconscious driver from within. The car exploded as he carried the man away. Elsewhere, Dante watched as a biker skidded sideways. The flames consuming him caused him to lose control. With his guns, Dante targeted a nearby fire hydrant and shot off its top off in order release the water inside. The water would serve as an option to people on fire and possibly douse the raging fire from the bar. Holstering his guns, Dante turned his attention back to Todd.

"All right Todd. You've gone and burnt down one of my favorite bars, you ruined a perfectly good set of gloves, and you've insulted Ebony and Ivory by not dying when I shoot at you. Now you're going to have to answer for it."

From a discreet slit in the back of his coat, Dante reached in and withdrew a large sword. Todd was familiar with the sword. He had seen it all those years ago, and he remembered well what it had done. It didn't alter his grin in the slightest.

"Ho ho ho, I remember that."

"Good, then you know what's coming."

"Actually, Dante, I do." Todd suddenly began to glow bright blue. The light was so strong; Dante used the sword to block it from his vision. Suddenly, it became very hot. When it hit Dante, he didn't know what it was. All he knew was that for the first time in his considerably long life, Dante felt his skin burn. The blast had sent Dante flying backwards and his head hit the ground first. He was light headed and his vision was blurred, but his senses were fine. He felt a hand pick him up from the street. A skull like face hovered before his eyes consumed in a bright blue flame. The skull had the same grin that Todd had.

"All those years ago, I never had nickname. I was just Henry Todd from Texas. I got one now. You can call me, Inferno. And I'm going to kill you."