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Schwarze Sonne-E Nomine
Left me for Dead-Rob D

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Mitternacht

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Dante flew overhead towards Rockfort Island, his Devil Trigger in good use ever since that damned Mallet Island incident. His wings flapped powerfully as he recalled why, exactly, he was going to a prison island. 'Is it the money? Or is it the fact that this has been going on since '98 and it needs to be stopped?' Another thought crossed his mind. 'What would Trish think about this?'

After Mallet Island, Trish and Dante had the business named "Devil Never Cry", but it seemed all-too blissful as one of their missions went horribly wrong, leaving Trish fatally wounded and Dante to face up to some sort of human experiment. He could distinctly recall his name: Albert something...

"Wesker. Albert Wesker." Dante growled, his Trigger giving a burst of speed. "He's still alive and I'll hit this jackpot as well."

Wesker had escaped, leaving Dante a scar across his back and a dead partner. He promptly renamed his business back to its original "Devil May Cry", because he knew that one day that son-of-a-bitch would weep when he went up against Dante Alighieri Sparda.

Then he saw it: Rockfort Island. The prison area seemed to be ablaze, and it seemed that there were no survivors there either. He touched ground just inside the prison and killed the Trigger. All but winded, he decided to go through a door just to his left, his red-leather trench coat fluttering in the heat and breeze. Dante's unruly hair stuck to his head, wet from the downpour that should have put out the blazes but didn't. He opened the door with a tiny shove, the wood giving an eerie 'screech' as it opened diligently. Training Ebony and Ivory, he gazed cautiously around the area, noting a metal "chicken-wire" door with a padlock on it. Shaking his head, he decided to walk around the small house. It seemed too quiet.

There was an awful stench in the air, like decaying flesh, exposed, and burnt insides, which made Dante stop and observe a body of a dead prisoner on the ground. As he walked toward it, the body was dragged inside and under the house by what seemed like a savage animal. Dante blinked and kept his thoughts to other things. His instincts led him to Rockfort, and he wanted to know why.

Stepping over the fresh blood, the half-demon turned the corner, training his handguns to the front. When nothing was in his path, he sighed inwardly and walked to the end of the side, spying a door on the end near the "chicken-wire". Cautiously, he opened it.

The stench grew worse as Dante heard moans of the undead. Almost overwhelmed by the putrid smell of the creatures, Dante nearly missed getting grabbed by the closest of the group. He commenced firing.

Claire had heard the shots being fired as she watched the last of the zombies fall in the mess hall. She figured that it was that Steve kid and paid no mind to it, heading to the bunks of the dead prisoners. Claire opened the door to the bunks and gasped for air suddenly as the stench of death overwhelmed her. Treading cautiously, she observed and filed a prisoner's journal. A pounding at the window drove her curiosity and she walked to the end of the hall, spotting a stray magazine of bullets. The banging on the window hardened and the glass caved, the zombie crashing through and startling Claire to back up. A set of MT100's dropped from the zombie's belt as it shuffled toward her.

Acting quickly, Claire fired on the walking dead until it hit the floor then moved to where it came in and picked up the other guns, placing the first in her pack. Cocking the MT100's, she commenced fire on two other zombies heading her way.

She sighed. Everything was quiet again, except for the distant wails of the other Zombies and the putrid stench of death they all gave off. Exploring the area gave her yet another box of bullets for her handgun, but she still decided to use her weapons sparingly. She didn't know when she'd get any more. As she made her way back through the bunks, she heard a male's cry of alarm coming from near the observatory. Making haste, Claire ran through the quarters and jumped down the stairs outside, slipping and nearly falling in the mud from the rain, and made her was around the shack, barely noticing the red stains leading under the house. Bursting through the door that lead to the observatory, Claire looked down and saw a trail of fresh blood as well as tons of used caps--from custom-made handguns--she figured. She bent down to examine the blood.

'It's not from the zombies... could it be Steve?'

With a brief hesitation, Claire stood and listened to the rattling of the fence by the zombies locked in with the guillotine. She trailed the blood and found the door kicked open and on the floor was a red fabric of some sort. Blinking in confusion, Claire stepped closer to see that it was red leather--

--A trench coat with a sword on the back--

--It was a person! Claire immediately kneeled by the wounded figure, careful not to tread on the blood-puddle. A ravaging zombie-bite was on the neck and, for some reason; they collapsed after only a few seconds of being infected. She brought out a green herb and mashed it on the floor, placing it on the infected area afterwards. The figure groaned, a spasm of pain shooting through their body. Suddenly, Claire found herself staring down a rather beautifully designed handgun.

"Who the fuck are you?" the wounded man, as Claire observed, asked darkly as he cocked his gun.

"You're hurt. Let me get you to a chair so I can properly treat you," Claire said softly. The man's cold blue eyes softened a bit underneath his platinum hair. He smiled confidently. "Sorry babe," he began as he pulled himself up, "I can take care of myself."

'Damnit!' was the first thing that came to mind as the bullets ripped through the undead, 'what next?!' Three down, four to go. Dante had much confidence that he could whip out Alastor and slice the demons in two, or he could blow them away with Ebony and Ivory. Such a decision, and a rather easy one on his part.

Click. Click, click, click-click.

"Aw shit!" He was in a slight state of shock that he didn't realize an undead was closing in, moaning for the blood of the half-devil. It pounced and latched onto Dante, sinking its rotting, but sharp, teeth into Dante's tender humanoid flesh. A short cry and he kicked it off, unattaching Alastor and ripping the undead to shreds.

So suddenly, however, that by the time it was over (and it was over in seconds), Dante's head hurt so much that his vision was blurry and he felt feverish. He thought he could make it to the building. Dante kicked the door open so forcefully that it nearly came off of its hinges, but that was the last thing he remembered until he was jolted up by a pain in his neck. He snapped up Ivory, training it on a beautiful young woman who didn't look much older than nineteen.

"Who the fuck are you?"

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Dante felt weak. Whatever it was that bit him was sapping his energy rapidly. His head was killing him and his sight was blurry. Whatever it was, the girl knew something about it. And she was kinda cute, come to think of it.

"Don't call me babe. My name is Claire. Claire Redfield." Dante shrugged as he introduced himself. He hissed painfully as he brought his hand to the open wound. "What the hell are those things?"

"Zombies. I know it sounds like something from a horror movie - "

"Or a hit video game," Dante muttered. Claire glanced at him and continued as she brought out a small solution of what looked like green goop from that weird herb she put on his neck (he observed the crushed contents on the floor, as he was lying next to it). And THAT hurt about as much as the pounding in his head.

"Why are you here in the first place? Drink this." She said as she handed him the vial. Hesitantly, Dante placed the mouth of the bottle to his lips. He choked down the first swallow and gasped for air, coughing for a few seconds to rid his mouth of the bitter-sour flavor.

"What the hell is this!?" A warm aftertaste homed to his pleasured senses. "Tastes like shit," he replied as he finished the bottle of liquid. Claire smiled softly.

"Hopefully it will keep you from becoming one of those things out there. For some reason, the process is a lot faster in your blood. Your metabolism must be high or something," she replied as she stood up, holding a hand out for Dante. Dante dismissed the hand and stood diligently, the makeshift potion working it way through his body slowly. He still felt dizzy as he held onto the wall. "Perhaps I should help you?" Claire asked. Dante shook his head.

"I've been through much worse." He replied. Claire shrugged and stopped at a safe box in the metal detector, dropping off her weaponry and anything else metallic. Dante felt he should do the same, but he didn't want to. "Let me go first. Just in case there're more of those demons."

"The metal detector--" Claire began to protest, but Dante waved his finger in her direction.

"You stay here and trip the detector. I always take my boys. For protection." Walking forward, Dante watched as the girl stepped out of the way. The alarm went off as Dante ran through to the end of the hallway, Triggering to speed up and rolling underneath the safety shutters before it slammed to the floor. 'All clear,' he thought as he stood and dusted himself off. He pushed the reset button and leaned up against the wall. Not only did the Trigger work wonders for speed, he felt at least remotely better. Until he killed the Trigger. "Ah, shit..." Dante groaned as the potion, the herb and the Trigger reversed its healing and made him feel worse.

Claire watched Dante with disbelief as he ran through the hall and turned the corner. 'Already he's beginning to be a show-off.' she huffed inwardly as she waited to trip the detector. 'Men.' She considered just leaving him there, but he was a survivor and he was injured, so she decided to stay.

'And besides,' she thought, 'I can't go anywhere else, this whole place is fucking locked up.'

She heard the mournful sounds of the Zombies outside, and she almost felt sorry for them. They had once been human, Umbrella employees, prisoners or whatnot. They didn't deserve this. No one deserved anything that Umbrella did to them. Claire glanced at the button and listened as the alarm stopped. Taking her 9mm out of the safe box, as well as her other metallic items, she aimed carefully and pulled the trigger. A direct shot to the system and the detector was dead. She smirked as she casually walked to the other end and saw Dante leaning on a table, looking at a clipboard and glancing at a machine from time to time.

"What did you find?" Claire asked. Dante started and looked at her, his pale blue eyes glazing over slightly. Claire stepped back and was about to raise her weapon when Dante spoke, the glaze leaving for a short time.

"Some sort of duplication machine. I'll check around here, I see you have your weapons as well."

"I destroyed the detector." Claire replied sincerely. Dante nodded and turned away. She felt a bit weird having his back turned to her, like he was about to transform into a Zombie or something. He WAS infected after all. Why couldn't she shoot him and get it over with?

There could be a cure. It wasn't like she liked him or anything, she just felt he needed a chance to live--to survive this horror like she survived her other horrors with Umbrella. The things she still had nightmares about. Maybe - if there was a virus, it was most likely that there was a cure.

"Like I was saying. Check that other room. Looks like an office." Claire nodded and headed for the door, turning the knob slowly. She was right, found herself in an office, and a cluttered desk with papers. Ticking near the other side of the bookshelf unnerved her slightly, but she decided, since she had her 9mm, to go along with it and explore the cramped space. Claire held up her weapon and trained it in front of her then turned the corner.

"Chris Redfield..."

It was Steve again! What luck. Claire stood; a hand to her hip. "What are you doing?"

Steve turned and looked at her. "Chris Redfield... are you two related or something?"

"He's my brother, why?"

"Aah, you're siblings," Steve muttered and turned to the monitor again. "It just so happens that you brother is being monitored by Umbrella."

"What? Why?" Claire gazed intently at the monitor, hoping for it to give her the answers. "I have to tell him..." she was glad that Leon decided to stay behind with Chris and Barry, so using the keyboard, Claire E-mailed the boys to inform them of Umbrella's scheme.

"Why don't you give them the coordinates of this place too?" Steve answered with a hint of sarcasm that Claire didn't hear.

"Good idea." Steve glared at her from behind her back.

"You don't mean that. You think they'll come? They won't and you'll be disappointed, just wait!" he snapped and ran off. Claire blinked and shook her head. She knew they'll meet up again and she'll find out what his problem was.

Dante knew it was only a matter of time before the virus or whatever it was took over. Claire had said that she wondered why the infection was faster with the half-demon. Dante knew. Knew what he was and knew his metabolism was higher than that of a full-blood human.

But he wasn't going to let anything as petty as this get in his way.

As he watched the redhead boy run off, he stood and walked towards the computer, where Claire was searching for something... anything...

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm. Claire didn't respond right away, instead she glanced in a drawer between the computer and an old-fashioned typewriter.

"A few 9mm clips, a first-aid spray for you, here," she said as she handed him the First-Aid spray. "What are you going to do? I'm going after Steve... I... the--I mean--I'm worried about what might happen... to both of you."

"You shouldn't worry too much about me. I'm a grown boy--I can take care of myself," the half-devil mused. Claire pursed her lips, but a glimmer of laughter shown in her gray eyes.

"Then don't get hurt again."

Dante smirked confidently, standing--or more specifically, leaning--on a shelf. He glanced at the computer's screen.

"I've E-mailed for help," Claire stated. Dante nodded and she took off into the other room.

He exhaled. It was getting harder to keep up the machoism, and he itched all over. He looked at the spray and wondered if it would help any. Maybe if he Triggered and sprayed it on the wound. At least his Devil Trigger kept the infection at bay, and he always felt better afterwards.

Claire walked in again and toward a lever, examined it then pulled it down. Dante stared at her, the outline of her features becoming fuzzy. He then headed to the computer and sat down on the floor heavily after she left. He wanted answers.

'But first, I need to keep this thing at bay,' he thought as he stood again. 'Just Trigger and spray. Not so hard...'

Dante felt hot and sticky, 'must be some symptoms,' but when he Triggered, he felt a slight decrease in the temperature. He set the spray down and took of his trench coat, then his vest and shirt. 'No time like the present,' he said to himself as he aimed the nozzle of the can to the infected area, wincing as the cool antiseptic hit the burning wound.

"Dante, you're such a baby," he growled and set the empty can in the garbage, shrugging his leather on again. He felt remotely better, but could still feel whatever it was eating at him from the inside. At least his skin didn't feel like a million ants were crawling on it.

He was about to head out the way he went in, but a door opened ajar caught his attention. He stepped over to the door and peered out. Something was holding it, keeping it from opening. Still in Trigger, he pushed as hard as he could to budge the door. It creaked slightly and opened just enough for him to get through. Killing the Trigger, Dante squeezed his way through the tight door and saw the thing that obscured his path: a large crate. He scoffed and jumped over the obstacle, heading towards another "chicken wire" gate.

Dante smelled the vile stench of death before he even opened the door. He reloaded Ebony and Ivory, and shot the canister of flammable contents before reaching for Alastor and slicing what was left of the burning Zombies. He sighed and decapitated the last of the small group before checking out a building to his right.

Not only did it reek of putrid zombie, the building had a sickening sterile scent that made Dante want to gag. Those two scents mixed did not leave for a happy stomach. He labored his breathing slightly as he cautiously tread through the building.