Chapter 2
Smile
The least he could do was help a lady out, you think? Being the slight gentleman that he is, Trish underestimated him. The woman struggled up to her feet and began to walk towards the mouth of the cave, not caring what can ever happen to Dante.
The man casually strode into the open area, trying to ignore the filthy stench that had somehow gotten stronger. He was sure he was close to where his job will take climate, and he was beginning to get bored. The area was dark, and wide with open space. For some reason, he felt a little insecure about the atmosphere that suddenly dropped down on his shoulders. Something was going to get him, and he wasn't sure if it was going to be easy or not.
"Bravo making it passed my gaurd dog, Dante." echoed a voice. "Not many can. But, that's what every villian says to a hero of the story, don't you think?"
Dante grasped his sword in defense, a light swish passing his face. The torches of the cave have went out, and it was pitch black with nothing but his sense of hearing to help him.
"Come on out, you ignorant hick. You're wasting my time."
"Oh, but there is plenty of time, sir. In fact, all the time in the world. The thing that is psyching you out about this place is me, isn't it? You're afraid of me, aren't you, Dante?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
A hand as cold as ice, was placed onto his shoulder with a long sigh of breath. For the first time, he felt a chill example of fear. And, as all of us do, he hated it. Swinging his sword around, the thing disappeared and laughed. He had to keep all of this crap emotion under control, and if he didn't, he was going to die.
"It's so amusing to see the son of Sparta writh in fear. I love it. How about you and I play around for a little while, Dante?"
"You're starting to sound like a pathetic little kid. Who are you? Either way, I'm stilll sending you to hell."
The thing cackled once more, only filled with mockery and fun. The fire was then suddenly lit, and he came face to face with a little boy. Black suit, black hair, and blood red eyes. The child grinned, showing demonic and needle like fangs that didn't intimidate Dante. Sighing with agitation, he withdrew his sword, and turned around to walk away.
"You killed my sister." the child spoke.
"Hmph, so was it her that was following me through the tunnel? Sheesh, counting to six is pretty darn nifty, but it's not a gift, kid. Oh well, she's in a little black puddle on the way back. I'll give my regards and apologize for shooting her."
"Hehe...well, technically, she's not my sister. I made her. Out of my broken rib."
Dante swerved around and sneered at his incompetence, simply giving a blunt reply, "trying to immitate Adam and Eve? Crap, kid, get a life. Here, I'll give you a dollare, and go buy some candy or something."
Suddenly, he was knocked back off of his feet, slamming into the wall behind him and coughing up blood. Maybe this child was nothing he expected.
"Alright, who the hell are you?" he growled.
The little boy paused, and walked towards him and kneeled down. Those red eyes peirced through his skull, and as his eye twitched, he laughed.
"I think you know who I am, Big Brother. Don't you remember me?"
He pulled out his gun, and pointed it to his head. Obviously, no sign of fear or a slight jump of surprise came to mind. The little boy pushed the gun away, and grinned.
"It's me." he spoke. "I'm little Damien. Welcome back to Hell, Big Brother."
