Chapter Two: The Blood Link
Bludgeon the devil's like an iron hammer…
Dante kicked open the door, the twin doors lying across the ruined road to smash into a crashed school bus. He stepped out and walked down the stairs, stepping towards the demon's that had taken refuge on the other side of the road. He glared at them looked back behind him at what had been his shop for only a few days. There were holes in the ceiling, the walls, the pillars supporting his door-arch were cracked and there were no longer any windows in his shop. He glared and his shoulders sagged at the sight.
"Damn it! You guy's totally wrecked my shop! And I haven't even named it yet! You're gonna pay for that…"
He turned and faced them, his most menacing glare on his features. His coat was still over his shoulder and he stared at them, watching as they swayed on the spot, unsure of whether to stop forwards and die or wait and die. He huffed, and threw Rebellion high into the air, swinging his coat around as he did so.
He twirled it around his person, wielding it as if it were a pair of nunchaku and finally punched his fists down the sleeves and standing with his arms outstretched. His coat flapped behind him and settled down at his ankles. The demon's still looked troubled on weather or not to attack, but a few stepped forwards.
Dante's had shot up, causing the Hell-Pride's to leap back in shock as he caught Rebellion, and swung the sword down in front of himself. The demon's glared and began to step forwards spurred on by Dante's sheer self-pride at his entrance.
Suddenly, he sniffled. The demons, confused, watched in mild fascination as Dante's sniffled and moved his nose about. Suddenly, he sneezed and the arch over the doorway of his shop collapsed in on itself.
It seemed the young demon hunter had snapped at this, as he turned and stared at it. His eyes were alight with pure rage and it seemed that he would indeed destroy the demons if they so much as looked at him wrong.
He turned to face them, lifting his sword and pointing it at each Hell-Pride and Hell-Lust that had gathered. They, in response, raised their sickles and made hissing noises to combat the demon-hunter's rage. He grinned suddenly, catching them by surprise.
"I hope you all have enough to cover all of this."
And then he was on them. Rebellion danced through the Prides, its sweeping blows not stopping for their ethereal embodiments as if they weren't even there. His elbow snapped up, taking a Hell-Lust by surprise and sending him down with the force of a falling boulder to meet the ground.
Ebony and Ivory sang a song of death as Dante twisted amongst the ranks of Sin's and blasted them back to hell with their demon enhanced strength. The demons were blown back, their forms either shattering into dust or being smashed into it as they stuck the various obstacles that now littered the once clean…ish streets.
Amongst the demons appeared what Dante first thought was a statute of a skeletal man wearing a bulbous sack of orange goo on his back. Dante frowned and pointed Ebony and Ivory at it, causing it jerk towards. The 'sack' on his back began to glow and Dante threw himself back twirling gracefully through the air, his guns raising above his head as he pointed them at the sack.
His fingers clenched the triggers, duel .357 calibre rounds bursting into the sack. A massive explosion took place throwing the surrounding demons to the floor as mere piles of dust, which were quickly whisked away in the wind.
Dante paused for a moment, grinning until he heard an unearthly giggle behind him. He twirled on heel and aimed Ebony high at the building before him. Shadows were dancing around, a skeletal visage beneath them, wearing them as a cloak as the reaper of the seven sins leaped down at Dante.
He threw himself backwards; the deadly scythe sailed across the air above him, a faint whip like sound resounding from it. The demon hunter threw himself round Ebony and Ivory blasting demon-enhanced lead at the visage of death. Every time a bullet got close, he would evaporate into mere shadow, leaving them harmless. Dante shrugged as he came in for another sweep, his left foot smashing into the skull.
Shocked, the demon stumbled before Rebellion smashed across its bony chest twice. It disappeared before him, but quickly Dante spun and thrust outwards even as the demon was forming. It pounded itself into Rebellion, which Dante tugged and swung. The demon dropped and it's wicked scythe tried to take Dante's legs from under him.
A back flip stopped this plan and Dante landed crouched before the figure, inches from its face. It hissed something demonic and a look of rage and horror crossed Dante's face.
"What was that about my mother?"
The demon blinked, confused, until Dante's face smashed into his skull, its permanent grin broken by the loss of its front teeth. Ebony slammed into the skull and the trigger was pulled without some witty catchphrase.
The reaper was bounced across the road into the school bus and Dante twirled, lifting Ivory, and pointed both gun's at it, even as it was leaping from building to building to flee from Dante's wrath.
Dante twirled the gun, holstering stepped forwards and staring upwards. In the midst of the city, now stood a massive tower, stretching almost five hundred feet into the sky, its top surrounded by cloud, barely visible. But Dante didn't need site.
"It's been a whole year since we last met… Where does the time go?"
He stepped forwards, walking down 66 Avenue towards a strip-club he frequented until recent events like the appearing of a massive tower right in front of it. He spread out his arms, as if welcoming a hug and shouted at the tower.
"I guess you got some fun planned for me, right Vergil?"
His voice echoed into the night.
Open the iron-soul gate that locks the tower from the mortal realm
Vergil's fingers danced across the hilt of his sword, his fingers playing a slow dance over the pommel of the katana-blade which once belonged to Vergil's demonic father, Sparda. His cold eyes glared at the wall before him, as he allowed the puzzle to play across his mind.
He ran a hand through his hair, sweeping his sweaty locks back across his head and causing them to stick out at odd, spiked angles which never-the-less looked perfectly acceptable on the half-demon.
Vergil looked down at his boots, noticing the blood on them. He shook his head, glancing behind him to the great silver-blue alter that had allowed Vergil this far into raising Temen-Ni-Gru. Upon the alter lay a figure dressed in white robes, which had stained with the blue blood of the immortal… well, semi-immortal.
"How did it feel, Michael? To have Yamato, sword of Sparda, pierce your heart? For an angle, an archangel," he corrected himself, with a sly grin, "You disappoint me."
The frozen body did not reply, though Vergil hadn't expected it to either. Turning back to the puzzle, Vergil allowed his cold hands to play across the demonic face or the guardian Sparda had killed to seal this medium between the two worlds.
"I need in. Open the gates or I'll come down to hell and drag you out, cur…"
His fingers snapped the skull, and the blue orb fell form it. Vergil picked it up in curiosity and felt seven scores of pain wrack his body. He was viciously jerked into a standing position and thrusting his mind elsewhere. He felt the cold, clammy hands gripping his heart… and then he fought back.
Though half-demon, Vergil was an awesome force to be reckoned with and this simple parlour trick had no effect on him. The entity which had tried so hard to bury itself deep into Vergil was thrust out unexpectedly and saw the demon-son of Sparda before it.
"Can I help you, cursed one?"
Vergil's voice dripped in sarcasm and simple blatant anger. He controlled it, however, manoeuvring it into the back of his mind, and his cold blue eyes focused on the demon once more.
Nothing from you, half-breed. Except perhaps to open your gate, spawn of Sparda.
Vergil grinned, and held out his gloved hand. The brilliant face manoeuvred into his grasp, and screamed as he grappled with it. Its energy was torn from it, it's 'life' taken by Vergil Sparda.
"I think not, cur."
Vergil stood, and his arms reached out wide as his body glowed with a light blue hue. His form shimmered for a moment, no longer showing a man of perfect physique but a demon, its head resembling that of a hammer headed shark. Its body was plated in blue scale mail, and two large leathery blue wings reached out behind it.
Suddenly, it all stopped as he became his normal self, a smile on his exasperated features. He grinned and slammed his fingers down on the doorway, crumbling it. He stepped through, his subordinate Arkham, two steps behind him.
The two stepped onto the tower as it burst to life in the middle of the city. I shot skywards, Arkham grabbing onto the bell that was nearest to him. He stared at the unphased Vergil with envy and anger.
"Did he have it?"
Arkham smiled at this, righting himself and taking his place just behind the half-demon. He held his book in his hands, clutching it as a priest does a bible. He looked over in the direction of the blue clad demon.
"Of course. After all, it is the only memento left of the mother you both lost."
"And yet," Vergil cut in swiftly, "He has no idea of its true power."
Arkham just snorted a little, telling Vergil that Arkham believed that Dante would need a Post-It to remind him that he was a demon-hunter. Or perhaps even a tattoo.
Dante's voice reined up at them from down below in the city, causing Vergil to step forwards more willing to embrace his brother than harm him. He resigned instead for a murmur of his name.
"…Dante…"
Vergil gripped Yamato, looking forward to sparring with his brother again. Though this time it may be to the death. So be it, as long as Vergil got the power to overthrow Mundus and protect that which mattered most. He sighed to himself as the foolish demon, so easily defeated by Dante, landed, begging for mercy and the chance to retry his task.
Vergil stalked away, the demon following, chatting into his ear. It was almost too much for him to bear remaining in his human form. Yamato burst from the sheath, dancing out behind him in swift manoeuvres too fast for the human eye. He twirled the sword, running it along his cloak and cleaning from it the dusty blood of the demon. He paused, smiled and slammed the katana home in its sheath, walking away.
Behind him, the demon exploded at his power, speed and sheer anger. The mortal realm always did bring out Vergil's nastier side.
(A/N : Anonymous: thanks for pointing that out. Glad you're enjoying it.
Warp Liquia Obscura: thanks for reviewing. Hope you enjoyed this chapter too
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