Carnal Spark
I walk alone
I am alone
I think alone
I'll die alone
Don't think I can make it on my own
I think I need someone to save me…
--Staind "Break"
+Second Spark: Till I Break+
It was safe to say Dante did not sleep well that night. His mind was still reeling from his earlier episode. It wasn't like he didn't want to sleep. Oh no. Dante had wanted nothing more than to drift to dream land, to be out of this reality. It was only in his dreams that he could see Vergil's image, could be reminded of the his earlier memories of life, before everything went to shit. Only, tonight that wasn't the case. Every time he would drift to sleep, and wait to be haunted by his brother—by his own image—he would be taunted, teased by tingles of electricity. He knew it was Alastor, knew it was the demon trying to get at his nerves. At one time in the night, while he was half-asleep, he had told Alastor:
Knock it off, damn you.
Alastor did not stop. The dreams just got worse. He forced himself to stay awake. Soon, after a couple days of this, he found himself scared to even be alive. While he was awake, he was reminded of Vergil's death, it playing in front of his eyes all the while. While he slept, Alastor would creep under his skin, make him feel alive, if even for a little while. Dante hated that, because it made him happy. Happiness was a luxury that he did not deserve.
And so, for being happy, he was punished. In the day, he feared his brother's ghost and at night, he feared something akin to molestation. Slowly, but surely, it was breaking down whatever was left of Dante Sparda.
-vvvvv-
Dante hadn't slept in days. It showed as he picked up the phone, which had started collecting dust. Even after the caller had relayed the password, Dante was silent. His brain seemed to move at a sluggish pace. Sounds that we not two inches from him seemed to be miles away, fuzzy and through a pillow.
"Hello?" Dante's tongue stuck to his the dry roof of his mouth. At least he had started eating.
"…Uh, sorry." The speaker waited for a moment before continuing. He half-wondered if he had caught the great demon slayer half-asleep.
"Mr. Dante, I have a serious demon infestation. A mansion belonging to my ancestors has been taken-over by demons. The ring-leader seems to holing himself inside the basement somewhere." Dante took minutes to register this. The caller began to worry.
"…What?" In an exasperated voice, the caller repeated what he had previously said. Dante understood it a little better. After another moment of gathering his wits, and an exasperated sigh from the caller, Dante asked the man for directions. The man, getting the gist of it now, repeated them twice, incredibly slow. The demon slayer, not entirely trusting his brain or his ears at the moment, got out a pen and wrote them down. He assured the man he would make it there in a little. With newfound confidence in the task taker, the man hung up, letting Dante be alone with his thoughts for a moment. The white-haired Sparda had a couple important thoughts.
He finally had a job for the first time in weeks. That meant money. It also meant it would keep him busy, get him away from the house, and away from Virgil, even if for a day.
He made his way to the bathroom, in desperate need of a shower. He hadn't taken one in days, do to the frequent breakdowns. Dante knew a shower might wake him up a little. He threw off his sweatpants, the only thing he had been wearing, once near the shower. He cranked up the hot water and made his way into the small shower stall. Sighing, he went about washing himself, staying under the water longer than needed. Once out, he felt a little more mentally refreshed.
The son of the Dark Knight Sparda™, had dressed into his normal attire with a little more concentration that usual. He strode into the garage, but stopped and slapped his forehead. He knew he had forgotten something. With a growl of anger at himself, he jogged back into the Devil May Cry building, rushing to his room to retrieve the 'girls'. He picked up Ivory and Ebony, smiling some.
"Sorry girls. I must be more fried than I thought." He holstered the twins. That was when he remembered another weapon, Alastor, the demonic molester… He hesitantly looked back at where the electrical blade stood now (half-way across the room away from his bed, its previous position). He sighed and decided that it would be foolish to try to go slay demons without a sword. And since Trish had taken off with Sparda (also his Force Edge) and he had smashed Rebellion some years back, Alastor was the only choice left. He tentatively picked up the blade, which thrummed with energy now happy to be back in its master's hands, and slung it onto his back. He turned his head to look over his back.
"Don't start," he said harshly, noticing the sword was getting a little too happy. It immediately calmed down. Dante made his way back to his garage where a now fixed, red bike sat propped up (Trish had given it to him in exchange for the sword). He grabbed the motorcycle helmet and pulled it onto his head, taking his final position on the bike. With a quick turn of the keys and of the handle, Dante sped off into the now drizzling world.
-vvvvv-
Dante Sparda, the Dark Knight, stared at the old, decrepit building. The stone white columns looked as if they would crumble completely at one mere touch. The immense yard looked like it hadn't been taken care of in ages; the grass already turned yellow and dry, the trees raking the sky with their bare and sharp limbs. He made his way up the cobble stone walkway, stepping onto the concrete porch. He looked around the yard once more, to make sure nothing would surprise him in his mentally weakened state. He opened the gnawed through door with several slash marks on it, making the tarnished knob creak some. The badly marred wooden door groaned on its rustic hinges, a musty smell wafting out to greet him.
"Whew. That's strong," he commented. He made his way into the house, the once-expensive looking mahogany floorboards creaking in protest under his feet. He heard the screech of some unseen and far off demon. Immediately he crouched into a defensive stance, hand on the hilt of Alastor. The sword sparked with nervous energy. When Dante couldn't hear anything else, he breathed in relief and stood erect once more. He walked forward with more confidence, the door, by some defiance of nature, closing behind him with a loud bang. The demon slayer twitched in habit, but didn't turn. He had seen that trick one too many times for it to let him affect him anymore. Slowly he made his way into the room adjacent to the main room, the study. It was then he noticed that the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, a cold shiver racing down his spine. This confused him some.
In his many years of slaying demons, only a few times had he ever encountered this feeling. In those times, only one demon could elicit such fear from him…
He stopped thinking at that moment. If he continued, he might remember something he had come here to forget. He stood in the study, looking at the masses of books upon gigantic bookshelves that reached all the way to the ceiling. Dante had to crane his neck all the way to see the tops of them. He noticed that many of the old, falling-apart books were scattered on the floor and torn apart. It looked like something had tried to make a meal out of them.
"Whatever was here was hungry…" He scooted one with his boot, turning it over. He then moved on, to look at an old oak desk in front of a stained glass window. Some of it had been eaten away by termites, but the left was scarred with angry slash marks. He tried to sum up the damage from the two rooms had recently visit. The slash marks, the books that were half eaten, the earlier screech… He suddenly looked wide-eyed.
"Blades!" He heard the screech a mile away and turned in time to dodge a stealthy attack that came from under the floorboards. The lone Blade that had popped up landed with a crash against the oak desk. The desk toppled over and over until it smacked against the wall under the window. Dante immediately pulled out Alastor, readying for the attack. The demonic lizard growled a high pitched sound, scraping at the ground with its projectile claws, clambering to get back on it's feet. The demon slayer wasted no time, slashing directly at it, piercing its protective mask. It was flung backwards into the desk, but not dead. This time, the Blade was able to make it back onto its feet. It charged at Dante, who retaliated with quick slash downward. The demonic entity was able to sidestep it, which left Dante confused. He must've been more fried than he thought. Just as the Blade thought it had found an opening, Alastor shock an electric bolt straight at the lizard. The Blade convulsed with the electricity, sizzled and fell to the ground. Dante let out the breath he had been holding. He turned to get out of the room, swinging Alastor back on his back.
He was knocked flat the second he got to the doorway. Something that smelled of fried frog legs was attached to his leg, dangerous claws digging into his leg. His hissed in pain, trying to kick the half-dead thing off of him. Then, mustering up enough concentration to grabs the twins, he fired two .45's point-blank into the Blade's face. The demon's face exploded in a spray of blood, brain and flesh. It slumped, finally dead, against his leg. He kicked the heavy body off of him, then stood, holstering his guns and wiping the sweat of fear that had gathered on his forehead. He turned and sighed, getting ready to get out of the nearly destroyed room. The demon slayer was once again caught off guard as he faced three more hissing Blades. He tried to grab his guns, but his hand slipped and that cost him dearly. A sudden flying Blade knocked Dante back. He staggered backwards, teetering over the edge of the surprising deep hole the now dead Blade had made earlier. One more screeched, flew forward and tackled. Dante didn't remember much except blackness and the loud hissing in his ear.
---
Get up.
Get up you weakling.
Dante stirred. It had only been a couple minutes since his fall.
What's the use of suffering so much over me if you're this easily defeated? Is my death worth nothing to you! Did I let myself be murdered by a weakling? GET UP!
The demon slayer groaned. He was coming back now. Always mocking him.
Master…
It was then that the younger Sparda's eyes flashed open. It was strange. He knew the last voice was of Alastor's. Why did he awake to the demon's cooing, instead of Virgil's harsh reminder. He groaned and pushed himself up. A headache now threatening to split open his head. He looked around and was greeted with darkness…and hissing.
"Shit," Dante cursed. Ten Blades stepped out into the opening, strangely not making an attack as soon as possible. It was like they were waiting for something. It was then that the ringleader stepped into the clearing. The demon was easily eight feet tall, with scaly skin and armor covering most parts of its body. It was the daddy of all Blades. Dante didn't really care about it, it was the thing it was holding.
"Alastor!" The blade held in its grasp Dante's favorite sidekick. What scared the demon slayer the most was that he could see the beginnings of cracks in his beloved sword. Why hadn't the thing just killed him? Why did it have to take Alastor. The sword buzzed with energy, but it didn't seem to be affecting its captor. The Blade hissed, holding the sword out farther away from it, crushing it's gauntlet hands on the sword. Dante cringed each time he heard a 'tink' of metal crumbling. "Stop!" Dante pulled out his guns, aiming forward. The Blade master screeched, dropping the sword back to his side and charging head on, the others following behind him. Dante fired five shots, ten bullets in all, sending them flying directly at the tall Blade. It horrified what happened next.
The Blade immediately pulled back, throwing Alastor in front of its body as a shield. The .45's collided with the blade. At first, it wasn't so bad. The first four bounced off, but next two lodged themselves into the weakened spot. The final four completed the job by making the blade exploded into tiny demonic fragments of metal. The sword did not lay down and die though. The electrical energy stored inside the sword exploded outward, frying all the demons in sight. One particularly nasty and lively energy spike caught Dante, sending him to the ground yet again. He faded in and out, black edging around his eyes. He heard the electricity crackle, die down, fade away and finally:
"Master!"
Hey, that didn't sound like a thought…
SlytherinsWench: omg, wow. That's weird. I am new to this section of fiction, if that's what you're asking. I also read your story, which was well written. A pleasure to read.
Laryna6: Uh, I'm not sure if I'll do Alastor in this story exactly like Alastor in Viewtiful Joe. I might take some trademark quirks of the lovable demon, but other than that, its sketchy at this point.
A word from the author: OMGWTFLONGTIMENOREAD, NOOB!
A sensible word from the author: Sorry for the delayed update. Been busy with school. x.X I promise I'll try updating more often now.