The shadow's body slowly slid down the blade of Yamato and fell with a soft, but also quite audible thud onto the pile of reddish-brown leaves as the residual black blood trickled along the edge in a thin stream.
The beast plagued the inhabitants of the small town for about a month. It stole sheep, goats, on occasion even larger livestock; but when it went after a young girl who barely turned seven, its fate was sealed. It was supposed to be Lady's job, however she got held up by an overly grateful customer of hers and so, Vergil was dispatched to deal with the situation after some nagging on Dante's part.
The body was already disintegrating when he slipped the sword back into its scabbard, now squeaky clean.
Pitiful, really. At least it supposedly to pay well.
The thin branches of the undercover rustled behind him followed by the faintest little cry, however, the sound did not come from a person and it was too animalistic in nature to chalk it up to the wind. He turned. Eyes the color of blood looked into his own.
"Vergil, no. What the hell were you even thinking? First the bird and now this? Are you trying to open a menagerie or what?"
Like an angry porcupine, Griffon ruffled his feathers as he stared daggers at the owner of his current residence and most of what it contained – including the door he was perched on.
"I have a name you know, you big red ape!"
"Yeah, whatever."
"Look at you, speaking from a high horse," Vergil said as he stood with the tiny black shadow cat shivering in his arms, both of them still dripping wet from the storm outside, "What of the woman parading around while wearing our mother's face? I don't see you casting her out."
Trish, the woman in question, only arched her eyebrows in acknowledgement that she did in fact hear her name mentioned, however did not deem the topic worthy enough to look up from the magazine she was flipping through.
She was an odd woman from the start. Vergil was out of town completing another errand, but he had the full recollection of the even from Nero regarding the moment when she entered their life like a hurricane, much like the one raging outside at that moment.
Starting with breaking down the front door with a bike, then disappearing with Dante in tow for multiple days. This left the boy to fend for himself. Understandably, Nero was quite upset with his uncle, which he showed by locking up the antique liquor cabinet and hiding the key in one of the drainages outside on the street.
As it turned out, Trish was a spawn of Mundus, created with the sole purpose of hunting down the offsprings of Sparda – but as fate would have it, neither she, nor other lackeys had any idea where to find him or that Nero existed. Dante was always much more predictable that way. At least he also had the good sense to not mention either his nephew, or his brother.
They secured her lodgings nearby, yet she spent most of her days lounging about in the office, occasionally accompanying him or Dante on some odd jobs. To Vergil, she was mostly a mystery he had little interest in. All that he really knew about her was that she liked flipping through ladies' magazines and TV channels and that her love of pizza seemed to rival that of Dante's. Not that he really cared.
There was a soft click as the door opened to reveal Morrison and Nero, both about just as drenched as he was. The duo entered quickly, shaking water droplets off their umbrellas that proved to be no match for the unleashed elements; for once, however, Dante seemed less than interested in the state of his office, something he could be rather particular about.
"Get changed. And get me a towel, while you're at it," the information broker told the boy, who scurried upstairs, leaving big, wet puddles behind himself. Dante still took no notice.
"Trish is different. If you want a pet, get a labrador or a cat, or something, but not… That! How do you even plan on feeding it?"
"We can figure it out."
"We? Oh no, there is no we. There is only you. And that cat. So maybe it is a we, but without me." Dante ran a hand through his hair. "Morrison, if you are already here, be the voice of reason."
"I don't even know what's all the ruckus is about," the man said as he watched the water droplets adorning his hat, "I do know three things though. Your nephew has something to say; the bill for yesterday's little show came in; and I still ain't no babysitter."
"A bill?" the older twin asked, "Again?"
"Little miss had a run-in with a Ming-era vase."
"I did not!" Trish protested, a faint color rising to her cheeks as she looked up from the magazine.
"All right, the kids you were supposed to be supervising had a run-in with a Ming-era vase."
"I showed the girl some moves. I see no harm in that."
"To break her brother's arm, Trish. Parents in this world don't exactly take kindly to strangers who teach kids how to properly cause harm to their siblings. So what?"
"And what about kids who bully their siblings? Surely it can't be wrong to teach the victims how to come out on top from such a situation.
A faint cough escaped Vergil. One could just about mistake it for a snicker. At this moment Nero returned, eyeing the adults uncertainly.
"Your so what means that this," Dante dangled his wallet between his fingers, "Remains empty."
"If it was that precious, the owners should have taken better care of it, no?"
"Because… You wanna help out here, brother?"
"No, I'm quite enjoying this."
"Fine. Whatever. I'm wrong and you are right, but that won't pay for the upkeep for this place." Dante collapsed into his seat with a groan. "So what's the news, kid?"
"It's the school trip."
"What school trip?" Dante glanced at his brother, perplexed. Obviously, he had no recollection of such a discussion; but what bothered Vergil he didn't either. Confused, they looked back at the child, who, judging by the roll of his eyes, was expecting such a reaction. His arm swung to the side dramatically, pointing at a fairly large sized paper, held in place by the claw of some demon, that proudly stated in large green and red fonts the time and place of the excursion.
"I've been wondering what's that about."
"Anyway, Ms. Everheart says that you're next to chaperone."
"Can't we push it back to the next one?"
"She knew you'd ask and the answer is no."
"Would it be a good time to remind you that you both have gigs lined up at that time?" Morrison interjected.
"The very worst."
"Then maybe I have a solution for your predicament. The boy needs an adult relative to accompany the class, and by god, you need all the jobs you can get at the moment. I know the state of your accounts. You also can't let the little miss run amok. Seems to me that the solution is close at hand, no?"
For a moment, Dante stared at his friend before turning towards the woman, his eyes gleaming mischievously in the light of the lamps.
"Trish."
The woman shuffled in her seat uncomfortably. Not unlike an animal that senses danger.
"What?"
"How do you feel about practicing not teaching the children how to break each other's arms?"
"What?"
"You'll be accompanying Nero and his class."
"I don't see why I would do that."
"I do." Dante leaned back in his chair. "It's called ten-thousand dollars that's coming out of my pocket, so I need to see that job through."
"Oh yes he does," Morrison chuckled in the background. Vergil nodded in agreement.
"And since you are likely to just rake up the further debts, little brother, I'll work on actually bringing in the money."
"Shut up, Vergil. Trish, from now on, I'm putting Nero in charge of you."
"What?" the boy asked, his confusion by this sudden turn of events palpable.
"It seems that Trish here is a little lost when It comes to human customs. You will be a teacher of sorts to her," Vergil explained, "If you feel up to the task, that is."
"But he's just a kid," the woman argued sulkily, but Dante was entirely unfazed.
"And just how long have you been in the human world? Three weeks? Four? And most of that spent hiding out here. No, I think he's fit for the job."
"Again, he is a child."
"And again, don't care."
The two stood across from each other, like cats before a fight. Trish stepped back, smoothing down her hair thoughtfully.
"I will agree. On one condition."
"Which is?"
"Olives on the pizza. Every second day. They are good for you, you know."
"Once every two weeks, and they are nasty things."
"Sure thing, boss man." She smiled as she sat back down. "So? Where should we start with the whole being human lessons?"
"First? Shopping. You're drawing too much attention."
"Said the picture of subtlety."
"I can be subtle. I choose not to be."
"No," the boy said with a scowl as she bent down to smooth out a wrinkle.
"I quite like it. Any specific reason why?"
In her mind, the clothing was just perfect; both the trousers and the top provided her with optimal amount of movement and seemed to be of sturdy fabric, capable of taking a fall or two. She was not all that certain about the belt, however, which seemed to cut painfully into the bottom half of her abdomen when she leaned over. A pity. It did look good on her.
"We are going hiking. You shouldn't be wearing cut-off tops for that. What if you fall?"
"It is kind of you to worry, but I'm a demon, remember? Your world has very few weapons available that can cause so much damage that I'd have a problem healing from it."
"Yes, but they don't know that. Father and Dante said they want to keep it that way. Plus, I can see your…" - he flushed bright red as he looked for the right word - "Breasts."
"They are what they are Nero, and it's okay to call them that. Most human females seem to possess a pair, so what's the problem with it?"
"Lily's mother is gonna flip."
"Is she important in your world?"
"No. Yes."
"Which one is it then?"
The boy mulled over his answer for a moment.
"She likes to think she is, since she is the class representative on the parent's grand council. They are in charge of trips, money, and stuff. And has connections. I think she is the daughter of some government official. He is dead tho."
"Connection to…?"
"I dunno. Dangerous people, probably, most parents seem to be afraid of her."
"Sounds like it could be fun," she said as she pulled down the trousers and put them into the to buy pile. With the speed of a snake striking, Nero dragged the moth-eaten curtains of the changing room closed before prying eyes could notice her apparently objectionable behavior.
"Please, just buy some normal clothes. Please?"
"I'll consider your request."
She wasn't lying. She did consider. Looking at the uncomfortable, baffled look on the face of Nero's teacher, as the woman took in the sight of her in knee-high boots, leather pants, completed with a crop top and a short-sleeved jacket, maybe next time she should consider harder.
"We thank you for… Volunteering. Are you sure you will be comfortable in that?"
"Oh, most certainly." There was a moment of silence; the demon could practically hear as the cogs and wheels creaked in her brain, trying to turn again after the shock to her system.
"I never knew Nero has an aunt."
Trish put on her most charming smile. It always seemed to work wonders on the males of this plane, however, it seemed to have quite the opposite effect on this small, vaguely mouse-like woman.
"Half, actually. My daddy didn't like their daddy, so we only recently reconnected; and Dante thought it would be a prime opportunity for some aunt – nephew bonding time."
"At any rate, thank you. Most parents and relatives try to get out of chaperoning any way they can, and well, the children are…"
Ah yes, the children. She already observed how Nero gradually closed up as they approached the school, loitering groups of children unashamedly pointing their fingers at the boy, while not at all kind smiles playing at their lips, only to be rewarded with the coldest of glances that he more likely than not learned from his father and would stop most enemies in their tracks; but the children were still too innocent to understand its meaning. For now, anyway. Later a girl started crying; as it turned out, two boys were tormenting her over her plush monkey sticking out from her bag. Her parents were nowhere to be seen and the teachers were busy with registration, probably why the boys thought she is a prime victim for their antics. Their eyes almost fell out of their sockets as she took the hostage toy straight out of the leader's hand and handed it back to the girl, who thought it best to hide behind a tomato-red Nero for the time being.
"Quite the little devils, aren't they?" Trish asked simply before the other could finish her sentence.
"I wouldn't put it like that, but they can certainly be a handful."
"I'm sure we'll get along just fine."
Ms. Everheart shot her a look that betrayed the utter lack of confidence she had in her child-management abilities.
"Oh, god, I do hope so. Well, if you need anything, I'll be in the front of the bus."
"I told you to wear something less conspicuous," she heard Nero mutter on her right, "Who goes on an overnight hike in a corset and high-heeled boots?"
"Well, I'm grateful that you worry about me so. Why are you not talking to the others?"
"I just don't want to."
"Not even that girl? She seemed quite attached to you. What's her name?"
"Lilah. She is… Nice."
"But?"
"It's a long story."
"Seems to me that before the hike, we have a nice long bus trip ahead of us. We've got nothing, but time, kid."
She could feel it as soon as they entered the woods. A presence, watching from beyond the shadows, keeping its distance, but never falling too far behind.
She kept herself placed strictly between whatever it was and the children, who themselves seemed to be somewhat aware of its presence; some of them were quieter than they had been in the bus, some of them becoming louder and louder. Quite well illustrating the adaptation of humankind to threats - either by hiding away, or being larger and louder to chase away the monsters, be they of the real kind or creatures of imagination.
They crossed two peaks in about eight hours, which seemed quite the feat considering that the three adults - two teachers and Trish herself - had 27 children to take care of between themselves, who always seemed to do the complete opposite of what the adults were trying to persuade them about. Mainly walking in a straight line. And staying in one piece.
One time the assistant teacher, Mr. Brown, had to hunt down a girl who was way too engrossed in examining a mushroom and failed to notice the sign that meant that the group was moving on. Not an hour later Trish found herself climbing up a tree to bring down a boy from the enormous oak, shivering in his boots, who got just a little bit much in over his head and a tad too high on said plant. Another classmate tried to play a nasty trick on Nero who left his backpack unattended for ten minutes. The boy held a squirming, big, fat frog in his hands, planning to plant this unwilling present in the bag; however, upon noticing Trish's inquiring gaze, thought better of it; unfortunately, another of his like-minded fellows was successful in getting the better of a young girl. Two crows flew up from the nearby tree as she screamed. Ms. Everheart chided the perpetrator for a particularly long time, by the end of which the boy himself appeared to be sniffling. Trish later heard the teacher muttering something along the lines of "eleven to thirteen is the worst" under her breath.
Not knowing much about the biology of young humans, she was wont to agree; it seemed that while hormones were already raging in some of them, in others they barely kicked in, and there were also plenty who would have rather stayed at home, playing with their dolls. All around a mess, but while there were quite a few scraped knees and cut fingers between them by the time they settled down, all in all, the children seemed to be in one piece.
"So let me get this straight," she said as the final nail was now in place and her tent stood proudly in all its shabby glory under a half-dry bush, "You saved them, they ditched you, then there was a case with what was that? A crazy clown that had a taste for children? And so it has been going on for about five years now. Humans can sure be an ungrateful bunch."
Nero nodded and after carefully choosing a softer spot of grass, plopped down onto the ground next to her.
"They are scared, I think. Say I'm bad luck, since not even my mother wanted me."
"Does that bother you?"
"No," he said, hugging his knees tighter, "I don't really care anymore, and I can't control their fears, either."
"That sounds a tad bit too precocious, but given the circumstances... The behavior of your classmates puzzles me, however. I thought humans value the bonds they make and saving one's life surely should result in a strong one."
"Maybe I just really have bad luck."
"Maybe so, but that would mean that demons are one step ahead of humanity in this regard."
"Devils who care? Now that's funny."
"Oh? Don't you think your father and uncle care?"
"They are father and Dante. You are Trish. You are not… Like… Demons."
Right. She always forgot, but despite acting more mature than his peers and the growth spurt she herself witnessed in the couple months she knew him, he was twelve and so, still had the mind of a child.
"I guess throwing a chair at Damon also didn't help," the boy said suddenly, "Did stop him from lighting my hair on fire, though."
"Just what sort of school is this?"
The forest at night was almost peaceful. After a hearty dinner around the happily crackly campfire, the children in their tents were either already sleeping soundly or whispering and giggling, believing themselves to be oh-so-silent. They seemed to have so few cares about the world. Quite the opposite of her experiences in the underworld, but no use crying about what never could have been now.
She turned her flashlight at a suspiciously moving bush.
"I can see you, you know."
"Goddamnit!" the bush – or rather, the one in the bush cried out, "Just how!"
"I'm an adult, not a moron. Now if you forget that I used that language and get back to your tent now, I will not tell your teacher about your late-night walks."
The boy scurried off, only for a smiling Ms. Everheart to walk up to her; it would seem she just made a promise she couldn't keep.
"Thank you for helping out. You can turn in now if you want."
"No worries, I don't mind staying up late. I quite like the dark. You go ahead though, looks like you could use some rest."
The teacher flashed her an apologetic smile before zipping up her own accommodation.
Now she was entirely and completely alone.
Except… Not exactly.
Between Nero's tent and that of the noisy girls, the bush rustled as the shadows, gaining substance as they did so. They formed a nose, from which an elongated head and neck sprouted. The darkness rippled, revealing the strong-looking, midnight-black body, rippling with power. A tail of dark smoke swished back and forth.
"So it was you all along. Should I respect your bravery or pity you for your foolishness?"
A snort was her answer.
A Nightmare. She had seen herds of them move as dark rivers would through the plains of the Underworld, but never one so up close, as they never dared to come close to Mundus's seat. According to the scriptures, they were not quite demons, yet not spirits either. Not half-breeds. Something more and something less than that, fueled by the deepest fears of humans and demons that were once humans.
Its muzzle moved softly as small nostrils of fear began to seep through the flimsy material.
"Oh no, you don't," she said. The Mare lifted its head, eyes alert with curiosity, before turning it back to its dinner. One of the girls cried in her sleep and she could hear Nero's hitched breathing.
Her kick just about missed the creature's head. The equine devil backed off, displeased by this interruption of the meal. Trish pressed on, unsheathing the so far hidden blades, which she strictly borrowed of course, pushing the other further away from the campsite. Human children would possibly get nightmares on their own if they saw a woman beheading a horse with blood-red daggers that depending on necessity could go from kitchen knife length to that of a lance. She couldn't be sure, but that was her general impression.
The horse gained its footing back first. It stood tall, its coal like eyes blazing; Trish felt the electricity moving through her veins. Can she take it? A Nightmare that just fed? She was Mundus's creation, made to be powerful enough to take on Dante - although there were some miscalculations in that regard - but a Nightmare was a different sort of beast. Not entirely… Physical.
The darkness blinded her.
And she was back in the castle, kneeling in front of the statue.
Blood squirted as she slashed at her wrist. The pain brought clarity.
Of course she can take it. It was just an animal; a bothersome one, indeed, but she was lightning.
Hooves wrapped in shadow hit the ground as it prepared to run them down. Trish felt her body flexed as she jumped aside.
A most wonderful feeling. A feeling that meant that she is still free and alive.
No, she was watching from above, struggling against her bonds, looking helplessly as Mundus beat back Dante again and again…
But that was weeks ago. Wake up.
She managed to roll aside just as the infinitely more powerful hind legs came crashing down.
"Too bad," she said as she dusted her pants off, "You see failure is not an option. I'd have two devils, and three dozen devilish parents hounding me if I did. I know your kind, you don't ever leave a job half finished; but neither do I."
And that was just a thing about these Nightmares. Once they had a scent, once they got a taste, a target in sight, they wouldn't stop hounding them; they would suck them dry, and the unfortunate devil or human would spend an eternity in the confinements of their own minds, living out their worst dreams.
She would not let that happen. The boy was tasked with her, but she was also tasked with the boy. And all the other children sleeping soundly.
This time the Mare charged without warning.
Just as it was about to run them over, she jumped. Her fingers dug into the muscled neck and chest, trying to hold on, as her left hand locked firmly onto the Mare's snout. The horse reared, trying to shake itself free off the annoying little pest on its face. Black fire surged around them.
Too bloody late.
She felt the power course through her. Lightning crackled as it left her body before it zapped through the Mare. But of course it would never go down that easy. Shaking itself free, the horse turned again.
The next blast she released in a short, precise blow, hitting the animal straight in the chest, where its dark core was placed, according to the textbooks.
The mare staggered as the daggers quickly followed. Black blood squirted and the beast fell, without creating the slightest draft of wind.
Then, it was over.
The next morning the two teachers stood in utter confusion at the scene of last night's battle.
"A storm?"
"I didn't hear anything."
"Animals?"
"Evangeline, what sort of animal can you think of that could cause this much damage?"
"I suppose we should call the forestry, either way," the woman said as she eyed the dangerously drooping trees. "The track is not safe."
"Yeah, well... I'll get the kids going."
"Did you hear anything? Your tent was closest," Ms. Everheart turned to Trish who was quite glad she had the good sense to sweep over the tracks and footprints with one of the fallen branches. Had they found the marks of her boots, now that would have been sure to raise questions.
"No. Nothing."
The woman shook her head before she, too, headed back towards their camp.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
"Good morning to you too, Nero. It's not nice to sneak up on people, did your dad never teach you that?"
On the other hand – Vergil for one quite liked sneaking up on people, she learned as much during one of their rare missions together. It was no surprise his son had no qualms about doing the same.
"You're not answering the questions."
"You are awfully serious for a twelve-year-old boy, you know that right?"
"And how would you know? You have been here for what, three months?"
"I'm a good observer."
The boy sighed dramatically.
"Whatever. I guess at least since they don't know it was you, Dante won't need to pick up the tab."
"That's it."
"What?"
"What you just said. Destruction is not the problem; the problem is if they know it was me."
"That's not what…"
"You are a genius."
"Trish…"
"Geez, learn to relax, I'm just joking," she said as she ruffled the white locks. The boy swatted her hands away, a faint color rising to his cheeks. "But I mean it. You are too serious for your age, no wonder the girls are too shy to talk to you. You look awfully scary when you try to act like your dad."
"I am?"
"It's not a good thing. Trust me. Now get your things, we are about to leave."
"… and so I'd just like to inform you that based on the parents' grand council decision, we won't be requiring your help at any other school trips."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," the devil hunter said. In the background he heard one of the curtains rip; with his luck it was the one he had replaced just a week ago. "We were quite looking forward to the next one. Is there anything we can do?"
"No, the decision is quite final. The parents were outraged, I tell you. The amount of phone calls I had to make to rectify the situation. No. Please just respect that councils decision."
"I understand."
The line disconnected without as much as an adieou. Dante hung up the speaker.
"Well, I'll be damned. That woman achieved something we could never."
"I heard."
"Do you remember your promise?"
Vergil sighed as he finally untangled the pitifully meowing Shadow from the curtains.
"Yes, you can order the extra-large pizza."