Chapter 12

Dante slowly opened his eyes and at first he had thought he had turned blind. Nothing but velvet darkness met his eyes. His limbs felt strangely detached from his body. He tried to move his arm but screamed in pain when he found to his horror that he couldn't. He moaned as the lights suddenly switched on, dazzling him. His eyes darted about in wild panic. Where the hell was he? How the hell did he manage to get here? He began to calm down as his eyes became more accustomed to the light. The walls that surrounded him were made entirely out of wood. The ceiling had wooden beams that supported the weight of the roof, whatever that was made out of. He became aware that he was on a bed. To one side of him, lay some of his clothes. He frowned and tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey his orders. He could only lie there, feeling nothing but excruciating pain.

'Just lie still for a minute. The fever's worse than I thought.' Dante frowned. Fever? Since when had he ever been ill?

'I can't move!' That was all that seemed to be important for him. If he couldn't move than he'd be out of a job. The haze was beginning to return. He looked up at the woman that stood near his head. 'Where am I?' he croaked harshly. 'How did I get here?'

'I found you unconscious just by the railway. I brought you here. Now please, get some rest. You need it.' Dante's eyes closed, simply accepting this. He tried to open them again.

'A railway line?'

'Yes, that's right.'

'I don't remember catching a train…' he whispered. 'I don't remember anything.' Dante sank back into the grey cloud, where he could no longer feel cold or heat. Where he could no longer feel.

---

The woman brushed a few strands of jet black hair out of her green eyes and gently bathed his forehead, taking care not to disturb him too much. He needed his rest after all, that much was obvious. Somehow, she knew that he wasn't normal. The fact that he was still alive was proof enough of that. Though she wasn't sure of what had happened to this strange character, she knew somehow that he meant no harm. Not to her in any case. She eyed the huge sword that had been strapped to his back and looked back towards her patient. He was a man who possessed great power. That much was obvious.

She carefully looked at the guns and studied the faded engraving on the barrel of one. It was hard to make out the words. She tensed up slightly as she heard him moan weakly. She walked up to the bedside and looked down over him, still holding the gun.

'Who are you?' whispered Dante. His blue eyes were watering with the effort of trying to stay awake. His eyes switched to the gun and he struggled to move away.

'My name is Maya.' Dante gritted his teeth, and struggled to sit up.

'Pass me my gun.' Maya hesitated, thinking he was going to shoot himself, or even her. 'I'm not going to do anything to you, or to myself.' Maya looked down at the silver gun and slowly passed it to him. His eyes were alert, making her feel at edge. At last, he began to relax again, even putting down his gun.

'What was wrong?'

'I thought I heard something.' Maya listened carefully.

'I think it was the wind. Around here, it can be pretty violent.' Maya paused. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. 'So, what's your name?'

'Dante.' Another silence. Maya smiled at him almost timidly and then left. Dante became aware of the sudden cold that surrounded him. He was somewhere that he was not familiar with. Hell, even the ground underneath him felt different. More earthy somehow. He chuckled quietly to himself. That was the craziest thing he had ever thought of. Or was it? No…he didn't think so. The craziest thing he had thought about involved a woman…but who? Everything seemed so clouded. The only thing he could properly remember was who he was, and what he did for a living. He knew that he did not work alone. But who worked with him? Someone he was close to, sure. So close to him that he had forgotten what she had looked like and what her name was. Some strong bond. He laughed again, a mirthless sound.

Maya came back in just then bearing a bowl of something.

'You should try and eat something. It might make you feel a little better.' Dante seriously doubted it. Maya noted the expression on his face and lowered her eyes. 'I'll just leave it here…maybe you'd want something to eat a little later.' Dante doubted that too but said nothing. Maya left after leaving it by his bedside. Dante flopped back down and sighed. Sleep came almost before he knew it.

---

I should be thanking her for saving my life. But I can't. I think I'd rather have been left by the track. Let's face it; I barely know who I am. Okay sure, my name's Dante and I hunt devils. That's about all I know. My brother and my mother died tragically some years ago. But there's something more than that. Something in the present. I've been told that I'm not in America; I'm in England. So how the hell did I wind up here? And what the hell am I doing here anyway? There's something around here that I don't really like the feel of. It's evil. That much I know. But I'm sure that there's a story behind this power that's building. And I'm sure that I knew it…once. There was someone who told me about it, but who?

Maya, the one who took me in, said that it was probably because of the fever. That's another thing that's worrying me. Shouldn't I have been over that by now? It's been two weeks already. I'm sure my body would have been able to fight it away by now. But it hasn't. Something is not right. In fact, there's a lot that isn't right. I had to force Maya not to take me to the hospital the other day. If they heard the story of how I survived, then there's bound to be questions, and tests. I'm not ashamed of what I am or anything, but let's be reasonable here.

"Oh my God! A demon? A half demon? That's just like so weird!" Definitely a story to make the headlines. I hate publicity. I think the place I live in just about shows it too. Devil May Cry is in the middle of nowhere. I live with no one but myself and…what the hell is her name?