JUSTICE LEAGUE INFINITE

by Bennie Stardust

A mega-crossover anthology series starring characters from all corners of fiction. Heroes from across the multiverse join forces to combat evil, do good, face their own demons, and, if they can, have fun. Season 1: The Mistress (Complete!) Season 2: A New League (in-progress)

3. S1E2: Demons

Season 1, Episode 2:

Demons

I

Spicy pepperoni. Radiant peppers. Glistening cheese. And still piping hot.

Winston Zeddemore encountered many slimy things in his line of work, but this pizza was by far his favorite. He had been thinking about it all day, from the Class 2 in Chinatown to the Class 5 in Central Park. (He hadn't seen a dog that big since Zuul). And now it was here; eight golden slices in front of him, their steam seeming to congratulate him on all the hard work he'd been doing for the Ghostbusters, for New York, and for this plane of existence.

Winston lifted a slice from the box, strands of cheese stretching tantalizingly between the slice and its brothers. He brought it to his mouth, thinking only of how much he deserved this.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!

"Yeah, I thought it was too good to be true," Winston sighed, stuffing the slice into his mouth before darting around the desk to the bunkers by the Ecto-1.

"Where's this one, Janine?" He asked as he threw his grey hazmat suit on.

"At some new department store called S-Mart," Janine answered in her typical dry Brooklyn tone, as if there weren't an alarm blaring from the firehouse to the next block down. There was some paperwork on her desk, but she seemed more focused on a copy of Snow Crash.
"It's just around the corner from the Sedgewick. Something about a bunch of zombies,"

"Zombies?" Winston shrugged. "I'm sure it's just a Class 3 corporeal spectre or whatever fancy phrase Egon's made up,"

"Wooooooah!"

Winston looked up at the fire pole and found Ray sliding down it, his face an amusing mixture of excitement and terror.

"I think that was a full five minutes this time!" Winston cracked, hitting a button on the wall to open the garage door.

"I know!" Ray responded, chipper as ever as he threw on his own uniform. "Business is through the roof!"

"I don't mean to undermine the importance of consistent customer interest, Ray," Egon began, marching up from the downstairs laboratory and taking a slice of Winston's pizza on his way to the Ecto-1.
"But at this rate, it's likely that it will take me twice as long to finish developing and testing the anti-ectoplasm gear,"

"Oh, that's fine. It's not like we're desperate for it," Ray replied.

"Why don't you stick around and finish that while Ray, Venkman, and I handle some jobs, then?" Winston suggested.

"Because I want to be present in the event that we discover another potential world-ending crisis such as Gozer," Egon answered, dry and direct as ever. He slid his uniform on as if he were donning a tuxedo, holding the pizza in his teeth all the while.

Winston loaded the proton packs into the trunk of the Ecto-1. It was then that the trio realized that their fourth member was not even on his way yet.

"Venkman!" Ray yelled up at the pole. "Come on, we gotta get going!"

"Move your ass, Pete!" Winston shouted. "Or I'll let Ray have shotgun!"

"I was on the phone with Dana!" Peter retorted as he finally came sliding down. He hurriedly threw on his uniform, but then gave his friends a smug look, as if they were late instead of him.
"You wouldn't want me to blow off one of our most valued customers, now, would you?"

The other three Ghostbusters rolled their eyes before entering the Ecto-1. Winston was behind the wheel, and soon Peter was beside him.

Janine waved at them briefly before returning to her book, not watching the Ecto-1 speed out of the firehouse, its siren blaring through the city and letting every ghost and demon in New York know that their night was about to get real bad real fast.

She had seen it often enough.

II

Whoever had placed the call, whether it was the manager of the S-Mart or a passer by, they were nowhere to be found.

The Ghostbusters were greeted only by a vast parking lot, ripe with litter but lacking in any cars besides the Ecto-1, and an unlit logo glaring down at them like a vengeful god.

"S-Mart," Peter declared over the slam of his door. "Spirit Mart! Seance Mart! Supernatural Mart! I get the gimmick!"

"PKE readings are off the charts," Egon stated, holding an excitedly beeping meter at arm's length, as if he were about to use it to detonate a bomb inside the shop.
"Not as high as the likes of Gozer or Vigo, but close. We could be looking at a Class 6 here,"

"And today was such a breeze up 'till now," Winston said with a sarcastic sigh.

"Well, we may as well get started." Ray dropped his cigarette on the pavement, extinguished it with his boot, and breathed deeply.

The quartet retrieved their proton packs from Ecto-1's trunk, and then approached the S-Mart's entrance, their march slowing to a creep as they drew nearer.

The automatic door slid open at their presence, oblivious to its glass being completely shattered.

"Remember, kids," Peter whispered. "Always go through the front door. It's the law,"

The Ghostbusters entered the store, completely dark save for the light of the moon through the broken windows. It was enough to see the grey, almost skeletal figures crowding up the S-Mart as though it were Black Friday. Even if the Ghostbusters couldn't have seen them, they would definitely have heard their screeching groans and smelled their rotted, deathly odor.

"Definitely a Class 6," Egon whispered. "I'd suggest using boson darts,"

"And we each take a quarter of them," Winston added.

"Right. Just remember-"

"Don't cross the streams," The four whispered in unison.

They stepped closer to the moaning horde, their gloves tight around the blasters of their rumbling proton packs.

Then the brute in the center was stabbed through the neck by something even more boisterous than the proton packs would have been.

The creature turned as it stumbled, and through the torrents of pale blood that splashed from its neck, the Ghostbusters saw that the weapon was a chainsaw, eating away at the enormous demon. There was nobody else in sight; the chainsaw seemed to have been thrown.

Then something rode over the creature's back like a ramp; a flatbed cart being ridden by two young men.

One of them wore a navy blue button-up shirt, and had messy black hair and a broad chin, which supported a cocky yet exerted grin. He fired a sawed-off shotgun into the monsters closest to the cart.

Beside him was a man donning a blood red coat that flapped behind him as the cart sped through the undead crowd. A broadsword two thirds of his own height was sheathed on his back in what appeared to be a guitar case. His hair was wavy and white. He dispatched the surrounding undead using dual pistols, which he pointed in every possible direction in a violent and peculiar dance. Arms crossed. Behind his back. Over his head. Sometimes even without looking. He occasionally declared "Woo," loud enough to be heard over the gunfire.

The Ghostbusters were frozen in astonishment while the two gunslingers zipped around the store on their cart, steering it by shifting their weight. By the time the quartet thought to join in, practically all of the undead were defeated, save for the brute, still on his knees choking on a roaring chainsaw.

The gunslingers leaped off of their cart, letting it crash into the monster's gut. The man with the chin darted forth and grasped the chainsaw's handle, then ripped the bloodied weapon from the brute's thick neck.

The white-haired man ended it with a single bullet, reducing the carnage to the soft clink of a shell hitting the floor.

The partners then clasped hands, and the chinned one said in a grizzled voice, "Groovy."

"Ray," Peter turned to his friend, speaking with teasing irritation.
"How come that guy gets the stylish red coat while we're stuck in our asbestos pajamas?"

"W-Well, I-I-I can't imagine how that's at all practical," Ray answered, never turning his pale face away from the two demon hunters.
"It's a wonder if they haven't already been infected by ectoplasm, or worse,"

"Why don't we ask 'em, huh?" Venkman stepped forward, applauding the two gunslingers with a sly grin on his face; the kind that anyone who wasn't friends with Peter Venkman resented. (Although his friends had each resented it on at least one occasion).
"Wow! What a performance! Love the finale! Could I get your names, please? I'm thinking about hiring you for my nephew's birthday!"

"Name's Ash," The chinned man answered, he and his partner coming to meet their audience.
"And you don't wanna do that; last birthday party I went to had a pinata come to life and try to eat the kids." He slid his shotgun into a holster on his back, and held the chainsaw down at his left side.

"I'm not in the party business, at least not professionally," The white-haired man said, his voice much more relaxed than anyone who had just slaughtered a horde of the undead had any right to be.
"Dante of Devil May Cry, demonic eliminations and armory." He bowed, as if he were offering Venkman a dance.
"And what about you guys, hm? Did our little light show distract you from some late night rat catching?"

The other three Ghostbusters shot Dante a perturbed glare, but Venkman kept his smirk.

"Yep. Big bastard; four rows of teeth and as big as that sword you got there. Bit of a change of pace for us; people usually hire us to catch ghosts. Or bust ghosts, they call it. That's our gimmick; the Ghostbusters. But I gotta say, I like yours better; Devil May Cry. Sounds more intense,"

"Ah, so you guys are in the demon hunting business, too?" Dante brushed his coattails back to put his gloved hands in his pockets.
"Humans?"

"Yeah, we're human," Venkman replied. "Well, most of us. Still not sure about Egon,"

"Wait, wait, hold on just a damn second." Ash got in between them, where the Ghostbusters discovered that his right hand was made of metal.
"Dante, I thought making money outta fighting demons was your handle. But now you four, full-on plain humans like me, have your own demon fighting business too?"

"Essentially, yes," Egon replied, pushing his glasses along his long nose.

"So you're telling me that all this time, I've been fighting Deadites and Mini-Ashes and flying goddamn books for free and I could've been getting paid for it?!"

"Hey, relax, Ashley," Peter patted him on a blood-stained shoulder. "It's all about building up experience. Think of all that as volunteer hours. Your resume must look incredible,"

"Yeah," Ash grumbled, holding up his metal right hand. "Doesn't get me any insurance, though,"

"Mini-Ashes?" Ray repeated.

"So what brings two badasses like yourselves down to New York?" Winston asked. "The zombies, I know, but I'm just wondering why we're meeting you now and not back when a giant marshmallow monster was attacking the city,"

"We're from out of town…" Dante began pacing lazily, looking down at the scattered corpses, which were gradually dissolving into a scarlet dust that drifted into the air.
"We're looking for somebody who's borrowed Ash's book and is way past his due date. Some pretty boy called Vergil,"

"He's got the Book of the Dead," Ash added.

"The Necronomicon Ex-Mortis," He and Egon harmonized.

"That would explain these creatures," Egon continued, catching some of the floating dust in his fingers, touching it, sniffing it.
"And the tremendous amount of psycho-kinetic energy they were projecting,"

"They're undead, they're dangerous, and they're pissing me off," Ash said, clenching his metal fist.
"Don't need a Phd to figure that out,"

"And I'm assuming that this Vergil guy wants to use the Necronomicon to command an army of the undead to destroy all mortals, or bring about the apocalypse, or something in that wheelhouse," Ray said.

"It's always a guy with a pretentious name," Peter muttered. "Why can't the psycho spectre ever be Bill? Or Tom? Or Joe?"

"Well, that's just the trouble with undead armies, isn't it?" Dante shrugged. "You can't really use 'em for anything good, now, can you? I was already on Vergil's trail, Ash was looking for his book; we crossed paths and decided to help each other out. By the way, Ash; you could spice it up a bit more than just pointing and shooting,"

"Hey, I'm just being efficient. Not everyone has gajillion-round devil arm pistols like you, Mister Fancypants,"

"Hey, I'm not bashing efficiency. I just think it's best to be as lively as possible when dealing with the undead…"

There was an excited, buzzing beeping. Dante turned to find Egon pointing his PKE Meter at him.

"Don't you know it's rude to point at people?" He said with a lazy smirk.

"You're emitting a tremendous amount of psycho-kinetic energy," Egon said, as if he had been asked.
"There's barely any coming off of your friend, but you're burying the needle. You're not human, are you, Dante?"

"A little bit." He lifted his gloved right hand, making a diminutive space between his thumb and his index finger.

"Is this Vergil anything like you?"

"You could say that,"

"...I'd like to run some tests with you back at our lab," Egon said as bluntly as a police officer asking for license and registration. He returned the PKE Meter to his belt.
"We may be able to find Vergil by sending out a beacon of the PKE you're emitting,"

"Hey, come on, Egon," Venkman nudged him with his elbow. "You can't just talk about another man's PKE like that,"

"That sounds just delightful," Dante said, folding his arms behind his head.

"You guys have your own ride?" Winston asked. "We've only got one more seat in our's, and it's the one cramped in the middle at the back,"

"We can follow you in my Oldsmobile," Ash replied, pointing a metal thumb over his shoulder.
"It's 'round back. I'll bring it out front,"

"Our's is easy to keep track of," Venkman called as the two demon hunters turned into the fading mist of undead dust.
"Just look for the cute ghost on the back with the slash through it,"

"One last thing," Winston interjected, and Dante and Ash turned around, each raising an attentive eyebrow.
"Where'd Vergil get this Book of the Dead from, anyway?"

Ash's brow furrowed, while Dante cracked into a smile on the verge of a giggle.

"Ashley left his attic unlocked." He playfully elbowed his partner before resuming his walk, followed by a grumbling Ashley J. Williams.

III

"I didn't realize you were into this sort of thing, Dr. Spengler," Dante said, drumming his fingers against the arms of his chair as straps were placed on his forearms, a metal helmet covered in wires was placed on his head, and a needle was placed in each side of his chest.

"We're just gonna run a city-wide scan for any kind of psycho-kinetic energy similar to yours," Ray explained, carefully adjusting the helmet's position on Dante's snowy hair.
"That should let us narrow down an area where we can find Vergil,"

"You seem strangely comfortable, Dante," Egon said, his attention primarily on the computer screens connected via wires to the gadgets he had fitted the demon hunter with.

"More than ever, doc. Nothing gets me relaxed like getting stabbed with pointy things,"

"Are you able to feel pain?"

"Oh, I'm a glutton for it." Dante stretched his arms up to the ceiling, then rested them behind his white hair as he sunk lazily into his seat.
"Just takes a bit more for it to kick in than it does you guys. A bullet in the head is like a stubbed toe...It really just hurts my feelings." He sarcastically put both gloved hands over his heart and tilted his head.

"You said you were only a little human…" Winston approached them, having just returned from downstairs with the rest of his pizza (which was as delicious as he had hoped despite being lukewarm).

"How is that, exactly?" He asked through a mouthful.

"Nice to hear you asking the right questions, rookie," Peter cracked, taking a slice when offered one as he leaned against the arcade cabinet at the wall.

"Somebody 'round here's gotta," Winston retorted with an unphased shrug as he offered a slice to Ash, who leaned against the other side of the cabinet. He took it with his flesh hand.

"I get that part from my mother," Dante began, taking a slice.

Egon and Ray each took one without looking away from Dante or the computers.

"The demon half comes from my dad…" The demon hunter continued through a mouthful. "Aw, yes, no olives for once...Sparda, or the Legendary Dark Knight if you want to be dramatic. You guys seem like you know your demons; maybe you've heard of him before?"

"Not that I remember," Ray muttered.

"I can check Tobin's Spirit Guide…" Egon typed away, and seconds later pulled up a file with a picture of a man almost identical to the one hooked up to his machines.

He was older and had a patch over his left eye, but his white hair, purple coat, and cocky grin had clearly been passed down to Dante.

"This him?" Ray asked, peering over the file from behind Egon. "Protected the human world from his own kind, sealing them away before watching over the Earth in secret?"

"That's the guy," Dante answered. "Don't know if your pal Tobin knew this, but as caring as he was for you humans, there was one he was particularly fond of named Eva. And the result of that sits before you, hooked up to all your weird gizmos. I didn't know my dad too well, but I do like his idea of protecting humanity, instead of destroying or conquering it like every stick-in-the-mud demonic nutcase I deal with every other week,"

"The only difference being that people pay you for it," Winston said.

"Well, that's the idea," Dante shrugged. "Only problem is I keep having to trim the bill 'cause of property damage,"

"Ooh, yeah, that's a real pain," Venkman said. "Some people just don't appreciate how difficult paranormal elimination is,"

"So if I'm the only one doing this kinda thing for free," Ash said, lifting his metal hand. "Does that mean I get more integrity points?"

"But I have to say, you guys have it down a lot better than I do," Dante said, wolfing down the crust of his short-lived pizza.

"Really?" Winston replied. "Cool guy with the fancy coat and the badass sword. Given the choice, I'd probably pick you. No offense, guys,"

"No worries, Winston," Ray said. "A little market competition isn't too bad,"

"Well, maybe I have the style," Dante began. "But I'm a nearly-immortal half-demon; I kinda had to get into this business. And this sword and all the other devil arms I use…" He patted the hilt of his sword, which sat by his chair in its guitar case.
"They're all created by demons or half-demons like me. It's a cruel irony, really. But you guys build your own equipment. You don't get your power from your enemies like I do. You're humans fighting demons and spirits totally on your own,"

"You surprised?" Winston smirked.

"No, man, I mean it," The demon hunter retorted, his voice still smooth, but more direct than before.
"This whole Ghostbusters handle you guys have going on, showing the demon world what humans are capable of...Makes me sure that I've picked the right side in all this,"

"Yeah, well…" Winston shrugged. "Doesn't always pay that well." He chuckled, but deep down, he was warmed by Dante's words; by the notion that, even if the rest of New York saw him and his friends as just another service, there were far greater beings out there who thought so much more of them.

"What about me?" Ash piped up. "I'm as ordinary as these guys! I've fought all kinds of otherworldly jackasses with nothin' but a chainsaw and my good ol' S-Mart model twelve-gauge double-barreled Remington here, and I didn't get no inspiring speech,"

"That's 'cause you keep accidentally summoning zombies with your book," Dante responded, staying relaxed as if to spite the flustered Ash.
"You lose points for clumsiness,"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ash approached the smirking swordsman, bending down to glare into his face.
"But it ain't exactly easy! I've tried burning it, burying it, ripping it to pieces, feeding it to a bear, but it always comes back! And I'll bet you anything that no kinda devil arms or whatsit-packs can do much better! So sorry for not being able to pull a goddamn miracle outta my ass!"

Everybody was silent. All eyes were on Ash as the beeping and humming of Egon's computers flooded the room with their soft sound. He stood up, cleared his throat, and scratched his wavy black hair with his flesh hand.

"I…" He coughed again. "I'm real sorry...It's been a long day,"

"I know the feeling," Ray replied. He looked down at Egon, and realized that his friend had not looked away from the screen since pulling up the file on Sparda.
"Where are we at with the PKE scan, Spengler?"

"...Hm? Sorry, Ray, it's just…" Egon rested a finger on the screen, just beside Sparda's smirking face.
"You and I are meticulously familiar with Tobin's Guide, and I can't help but feel befuddled at why this Sparda figure is so new to us. Even a glance at the table of contents; the name at least should feel somewhat familiar,"

"So ya haven't read your whole book," Ash said, calmer than before. "That's good, ain't it? Means you're not a total shut-in,"

"Perhaps," Egon muttered. "...But I have this nauseating suspicion that this entry has been snuck in here,"

"Now, why would anybody want to sneak some educational material regarding my father into your computer?" Dante asked, sarcastic but genuinely curious.

"I don't know…" Egon answered, his gaze fixated on the grandiose image of Sparda, the Legendary Dark Knight.

"I'm sure it's a fascinating mystery, Egon." Venkman came up behind him, slapping a hand on each of his shoulders.
"But if you ask me, half-demon crazies with magic books and armies of the undead are a little higher on the shit-to-do scale than people adding extra parts to your favorite book,"

"For once, Venkman, you're probably right," Egon replied, closing the file. "In any event, the scan's complete...Seems like Vergil is nearby; within three blocks,"

"Then what're we waitin' for?" Ash proclaimed, raising his arms. "Let's go pay him a visit,"

"It'd be best if we split into teams of two," Ray suggested. "We'll find him faster that way,"

"I can tag along with Ashley in his insurance nightmare," Venkman added. "Then whoever sees the guy first can just honk. Wake the neighbours in time to watch the fireworks,"

"Then it looks like it's you and me, Dante," Winston said to the demon hunter, who was already ripping the straps and wires off of himself.

"Well, I was gonna take the rooftops," He said. "But I'd love to see you hop a gap with that heavy gizmo on your back." With that, he turned and dashed for the door to the stairwell, his crimson coat flapping behind him, as if waving teasingly at the others.

"Nice guy," Venkman said.

"Yeah," Winston replied. "And you and him make for the cockiest pair there ever was, Pete,"

IV

Winston felt confident that he could hop a building gap with his proton pack.

As he ascended the stairwell, he thought about whether Dante would be impressed by the feat. It occurred to him, though, that like Venkman, Dante was not the type to eat his words on any occasion.

Then he thought more about what the demon hunter said about the Ghostbusters, and thought that perhaps he didn't need to impress Dante.

Winston pushed the door open, taking in a millisecond of fresh air before the putrid smell of cigarette smoke reached his nostrils.

He heard Dante's smooth voice, speaking with a soft melancholy that Winston had not thought it could muster.

"I really wish you'd call before coming over, brother,"

Winston turned left, finding Dante leaning with arms folded against the concrete ledge, a strangely despondent smile on his face.

He faced a man whose back faced Winston. This figure seemed to be a straightened-out reflection of Dante. His white hair was combed back, pointing at Winston as if pinned down by a harsh wind. His coat was an elegant shade of green, and a slimmer fit than Dante's crimson attire. His hands were behind his back, allowing Winston to see his sword; a katana that touched the floor, and was encased in a black sheath.

"I wish you would invite me, Dante," The man said, his voice a condescending sneer that reminded Winston of a younger version of Walter Peck.
"I'll soon run out of ways to surprise you,"

Winston stepped forward, his proton blaster at the ready, and took aim at Vergil's head.

His eyes met Dante's for a split second, and then he saw his gloved index finger lift, as if to scratch an itch, but also as if to say, one moment.

Winston allowed it.

"And I've gotta say, this one has to be your best yet," Dante replied. "How'd you hear about Ashley's book?"

"I was informed by a new friend,"

"Demon?"

"Not exactly," Vergil made a chuckle that was more of a humored grunt.
"But she has big plans for you, brother, and for your new friends...I still wonder; why do you gravitate towards these creatures? Pitiful beings who either despise our kind or...profit off of making us look like imbeciles,"

"To be fair, you guys help out a lot with that," Dante began. "Vergil, you have this very unhealthy belief that you can't be happy unless you feel like you're above everyone,"

"And what is happiness to you, Dante?" Vergil moved his sword to his front, holding it like a cane.
"Living in squalor in a rundown shop, working for people weaker than you who won't even pay you what you're owed?"

"Well, nothing's perfect," Dante shrugged. "But we've danced this dance often enough. Every time you think you're right, and every time you lose. Why not shake it up a little and try things my way this time? See what happens,"

"...I can't," Vergil sounded almost heartbroken. "But don't you worry, brother. You will come to see my perspective…"

Dante looked at Winston, and lifted two fingers, making the shape of a pistol.

Winston aimed at Vergil's back, the rumbling of his proton pack harmonizing with the shimmering of the half-demon's unsheathed katana.

"Whether you want to or not,"

Winston's gloved finger had barely touched the trigger when he found a blade tip resting on his adam's apple.

The Ghostbuster looked right into Vergil's stone face; though the clothes and the hair were different, he was looking at Dante's face.

"Is this what you've stooped to, Dante?" Vergil said, lifting his head at Winston, looking right into his eyes, but never addressing him.
"Letting your human pets do your work for you?"

"I ain't no one's pet, pretty boy," Winston said, trying his hardest not to swallow.
"And if you think your butter knife even comes close to the scariest thing I've ever seen, then you can keep dreaming, pal,"

Vergil made another humored grunt.

"Is that so?" He sneered. "The sweat on your brow says otherwise. And you will find that Yamato is much more than a mere butter-"

Vergil's arm was suddenly pulled away from Winston's throat.

"This is why people don't like hanging out with you, brother," Dante said, calm as ever as he began unloading one of his pistols into the side of Vergil's head.
"You talk about yourself too much. It's very narrow and boring conversation." He shoved his brother, now with half a face of bloody, dripping bone structure, aside. To Winston's astonishment, Vergil was still able to catch himself on his hands and knees.
"Thanks for the assist, Winston,"

"Don't mention it," The Ghostbuster muttered, his attention still on Vergil, whose face seemed to be slowly but surely reforming as he reached into his coat.
"So...That's your brother?"

"Yeah," Dante replied. "Twin...Sorry I didn't tell you before,"

"Don't worry about it...Honestly, if this guy were my brother, I wouldn't tell people about him, either,"

"I'm right here, you know," Vergil growled, his lips now intact enough for him to speak.
"And I don't appreciate your manners." He stood up, going from a bleeding mess to a tall and imposing figure in a matter of seconds.

He took something out of his coat; a black hardcover book the size of an encyclopedia. Its cover was wrinkled like aged skin. Winston and Dante saw what appeared to be a screaming face on the cover.

Vergil opened the book, and read in a whisper.

"Khandar estrada thrus indactu...Nosfrandus khandar dematos khandar…"

The words entered Winston's ears like the forked tongue of a snake.

Something dropped from the sky and landed on Dante. It was a colossal decaying creature like the one at S-Mart. It threw the demon hunter aside, and then charged after him.

Winston turned back to Vergil, and found something with gray skin clinging to cracked bones. Its black eyes glared at him as its putrid jaws reached for him.

"MAN!" Winston shouted, taking the thing's head off with a decisive proton blast. As its body faded into scarlet dust, Vergil's sword was already halfway at Winston's chest.

He did not even have time to scream.

The sword stopped, its sleek shimmer overpowered by the roaring of a chainsaw. Sparks flew in front of Winston's eyes.

"Mine's bigger," Ash said through his teeth, smirking at Vergil through the golden dust bouncing off of their grinding blades.

"Pathetic simpleton," Vergil whispered. He pushed harder with Yamato, and received a shotgun blast to the face for his troubles. He stumbled back, one hand clutching Yamato and the other gripping the Necronomicon. He reeled himself back up, glaring at his enemies, Ash Williams and the complete Ghostbusters, with only one intact eye.
"You mortals and your obsession with firearms…" He spat as the missing quarter of his head regrew.
"Crude weapons for a crude species,"

"Now that's just uncalled for," Venkman said. "Just for the record, you started all this, twiggy!"

"But we're gonna let you end it real easy…" Ash twirled his shotgun on one flesh finger before pointing it at Vergil.
"Hand the book over and we'll call it a day. You and Dante can work out your thing, but I just wanna go the hell home. You let me do that, and I won't give you facial reconstructive surgery with my chainsaw-hand,"

"You've gotta admit, that's a very enticing offer," Venkman added, making an O.K. symbol with his fingers.

The other Ghostbusters scanned the rooftop, finding Deadites climbing over every ledge. Some fat, some thin, some tall, some with limbs missing, but each one looking at them like an angry mob about to stone a local murderer to death.

"I'm afraid I must decline," Vergil said, holding his sword like a cane in one hand, with the Necronomicon against his chest. Deadites approached from behind him, barely aware of his presence.
"Someone else has given me a better offer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've something more important to tend to than you insects." He turned, his coattails waving as if condescendingly at Ash and the Ghostbusters, and strolled in the direction Dante had been thrown.

Suddenly, the brutish Deadite crashed into the stairwell entrance box, with Dante's sword protruding from his bleeding chest. The blade pinned the monster to the wall as the creature evaporated into red mist.

"What do you need an army of the undead for, brother?!" Dante proclaimed, bounding from the next rooftop, over the Deadites bordering the firehouse, and landing on one knee, as if ready to propose. Only Vergil stood between him and his sword.
"Don't you think you can face me alone?" He drew his pistols and charged at his twin.

The street erupted with the noises of roaring chainsaws, clashing swords, rapid gunfire, buzzing proton beams, and growling Deadites.

"Picking them off is useless!" Egon declared, frying a fat Deadite towering over him.
"The only way to stop this is to get the Necronomicon!"

"But does anyone even know how to use it?!" Ray questioned, blasting a quick and skinny Deadite sneaking up on Venkman.

"I do," Ash answered, thrusting his chainsaw through a tall Deadite's neck, then resting his shotgun on his shoulder to blast another climbing onto the roof behind him.
"If we can get it in my hands, I know what to say to get these screwheads to piss off,"

"Then let's get after it!" Winston said.

The quintet charged through the increasing horde of Deadites, zapping and shooting any that came too close.

They soon found the two battling brothers within the crowd. Dante, still separated from his sword, blocked Vergil's sword strikes with his pistols.

The Ghostbusters aimed at Vergil, each one already beginning to relax; this was the end of another job, just like all of them before and all the ones that would come. Had there ever been any doubt?

"I don't think so!" Vergil vanished in a blink of blue light.

"Oh, come on!" Venkman shouted. "Cheater!"

The Ghostbusters felt themselves lifted off the ground; a sensation they had grown used to from the various full roaming vapors they had encountered in their long career. They were each thrown aside, amidst the swarms of groaning Deadites. They stood up, feeling light. Feeling naked.

Vergil had swiped their proton packs.

The moans of the Deadites, their rotted skin, their ancient stench, their pitch black eyes, were all suddenly terrifying.

The Ghostbusters ran, their arms over their heads, feeling for the first time in ages like the college professors fleeing from a ghostly librarian. As Winston averted the hellish gazes of the Deadites, their moans to him became laughter. He kept running straight, but all he knew was a sea of demonic laughter.

When the four finally found the instinct to look up, they found Ash and Vergil, each with a hand on the Necronomicon in an intense tug-of-war. Ash waved his chainsaw blindly behind him, cutting down any Deadites who dared to get close.

"Cockroach," Vergil grunted.

"Jackass," Ash spat.

Dante came up behind them, his sword in the air like a gleaming bolt of lightning, and brought his blade down on Vergil's arm. Ash stumbled back, having won both the Necronomicon and Vergil's right arm, which painted the rooftop a dark red.

"Dante, you bloodthirsty maniac!" Vergil shouted, thrusting his own weapon at his brother, who parried.

"Aw, quit whinin'. At least your's'll grow back." Ash cracked, holding up his chainsaw, which the Ghostbusters saw had been fitted over his metal hand like a glove.
"Now, let's take care of this…" He pried the severed hand from the book, throwing it into the face of an attacking Deadite before turning to a page somewhere in the middle.
"Right...Klaatu! Barada…" Ash spoke to the stars as if he were reciting Shakespeare. His bloodied face lit up with satisfaction, with accomplishment, and with the sweetest relief.

And then it faded to a crushing look of forgetfulness.

"Are you serious?!" The Ghostbusters exclaimed in unison.

"Hold your friggin' horses, I remember!" Ash snapped. "Klaatu...Barada…" He winced and snapped his flesh fingers in desperation.
"It's always this bit…"

"Now I can see why he doesn't get paid for this," Venkman muttered.

"NIKTO!" Ash bellowed. "Klaatu Barada Nikto!"

The Deadites froze, their black eyes staring hungrily at Ash and the Ghostbusters, as if they were enticing prize chickens kept out of their reach by a display case. They looked down, down at the floor, at the ground, at whatever lay beyond it, and began dissolving, much slower than before, into scarlet mist.

"No!" Vergil said through his teeth.

He smacked a sword strike from Dante away, and then thrust his own blade into his brother's neck. He withdrew it, then left his gargling opponent to leap at Ash. With a swift spinning kick, he shoved the demon fighter aside, and then reduced the disarmed Ghostbusters to a pile on the floor.

"I've not gone through all this just to be thwarted by some one-handed merchant and four dim-witted ratcatchers!" The one-armed Vergil lifted his sword, ready to bring it down on the humans.

Yamato shimmered in the moonlight. Red mist floated into the air around its owner, casting a bloody glow on the fuming face he shared with his brother.

And then the roaring blade of a blood-soaked chainsaw burst from his chest.

"Now you listen up, mister fancy pants!" Ash yelled over his chainsaw's revving and Vergil's sputtering. He grasped Vergil's arm, ensuring that it flayed anywhere but in his direction.
"I know I'm not the brightest bulb on the chandelier, and I know that most people would pick your brother or the four bookworms here over me to deal with asshats like you! But goddammit, I never asked for this life! I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and got completely screwed over for it! But you know what?! I think I'm doin' pretty well, all things considered! So I think it's high time you and all those other undead dicks down there gave me a little respect!"

Ash ripped the chainsaw from Vergil's back.

The half-demon kept his balance, although he coughed up a repugnant amount of blood over his already crimson-stained vest.

Ash looked over Vergil, where Dante had recovered. They both looked down and found a proton pack.

Without another thought, they picked up the nozzles, pressed them against Vergil's ears, and pulled the triggers.

Vergil's head erupted in a blinding glow of red and blue. His scream was drowned out by a buzzing, sputtering noise which the Ghostbusters knew as total protonic reversal, and which Ash called lasers throwing up. The half-demon seemed to not have a head, but only a screaming mound of blinding light.

There was a finally whirring bang, and blood splattered all over the Ghostbusters.

They looked up, finding two blood-stained faces smiling down at them, two smoking proton blasters in hand, with their packs on the ground on either side of Vergil's headless one-armed body.

"You guys have any spares of these?"

V

"How did you two know that crossing the streams would do it?" Ray asked, helping Dante load the cumbersome crate into the Oldsmobile.

"Hm?"

"I mean, it makes sense in hindsight. The demonic aspect of Vergil's DNA allowed him to regenerate any dead tissue or bone structure, but the total protonic reversal generated by intersecting proton beams was powerful enough to cancel out his healing abilities,"

"Oh...You know," Dante shrugged, pushing the trunk shut. "Just did the calculations like you did. Right?"

"Sure," Ray chuckled.

"We just about ready, Dante?" Ash asked, opening the driver's door.

"Pretty much…" The demon hunter turned to the Ghostbusters, all with their uniforms stained in his brother's blood.
"So, I'm guessing, scientifically, that my brother's not coming back from this one, huh?"

"Hard to say," Egon began. "We've used total protonic reversal before on an entity called Gozer the Destructor, and he was able to return years later. But you and your brother are very different from Gozer,"

"You're not saying you want him back?" Venkman questioned. "I know he's your brother, but he's not exactly the cheery center of dinner table conversation. Plus, it was you who crossed the streams around his big snooty head,"

"Maybe…" Dante replied, looking down at the Oldsmobile's trunk. His distorted reflection looked back at him from the dirtied paint.
"He's my brother, and nothing he does will change that...But still, the world seems better off without him. Guess I can't have everything, right?"

"Welcome to the club," Venkman and Ash chimed.

"Hey, Ash," Winston said, holding up a glass case containing the Necronomicon, whose screaming cover seemed somehow more intimidating while imprisoned.
"You sure you want us to hold onto this?"

"Hell yes," Ash answered immediately. "I kill demons and you guys keep 'em locked up. Can't destroy that thing, so may as well lock it up,"

"Alright, but you'll be the first guy we call if we have any problems," Winston retorted.

"Well, it's been fun, Ghostbusters," Dante said, strolling to the passenger side of the Oldsmobile.
"But I'd better get back to my shop and answer the hundreds of thousands of angry customer calls no doubt left for me while we were having our little bash,"

"Before you go…" Winston began. Dante and Ash each raised a curious eyebrow.
"What you said about us, Dante...Just thought I'd come back at ya and say that it's nice to know that there's at least one demon out there who's on our side,"

"Half-demon; don't generalize," The demon hunter replied. He gave a lazy two-fingered salute.
"See you on the other side,"

"Call me if you have any vacancies," Ash added.

With that, the pair entered the Oldsmobile, which was soon cruising down the road much more casually than any car with a half-demon's corpse in the trunk had any right to be.

"You think we should recommend them to our customers when we're busy?" Venkman asked.

"You know what I'd recommend?" Winston replied. "Another pizza and then at least eight hours' sleep,"

Peter patted him on the back.

"You have all the best ideas, rookie,"

VI

"Hey, Dante, I was wondering," Ash began, bobbing his head to the tune of Huey Lewis over the radio.
"You looking for any extra hands over at Devil May Cry?"

"Yeah, but I'd need at least two more hands," Dante smirked.

"Okay, I walked right into that one...But tonight, hearing about your shop and about those Ghostbuster guys, I'm thinkin' I've been missing out on a business worthy of my talents. And you said yourself that you were having money troubles; maybe I could help you out. We could split up, take on two jobs at once,"

"I see what you're getting at," Dante stroked his chin as he leaned his elbow on the open window. His white hair blew behind him, almost replicating Vergil's appearance.
"You could go open up some portal to Hell, then we could get paid to clean up the mess, and nobody would be any the wiser,"

"Oh, come on, man," Ash retorted. "I left the book with the guys back there! There's no way I'm gonna accidentally summon any more otherworldly evils upon the planet! I'm gonna turn a new leaf! Gonna start bein' just the solution, and not the solution and the problem,"

"And get paid for it,"

"Well…" Ash shrugged. "You save the human race like you, me, and the Ghostbusters do all the time, is it so wrong to ask for just a little something to show for it?"

"You're hired." Dante patted him on the shoulder without looking away from the illuminated city passing them by.

"Y-...Really?"

"Sure. You're right; I've got too many people making problems for me and not enough helping me out. And despite your slip-ups, you know your way around the uglier parts of the industry...And you're right; you deserve a little more recognition in the demon world,"

"...You think so?"

"There's not many humans who can say they took down someone like my brother. You and our new friends back there make up more than half of 'em. And it just makes sense; I need some help, you deserve a promotion. You help me and I help you,"

Ash turned a corner, feeling something tingling inside him that he hadn't felt in years, and hoping that Dante couldn't tell.

"You know, Dante, I think this will be the start of a great partnership-"

Something ripped through his back, and a moment later it burst out of his chest.

Ash's first fear was that the Oldsmobile, which he had just paid off, was about to crash, but there seemed to be nothing to crash into. Outside, the dim streets of New York had become a vast whiteness. Ash couldn't tell if it was too bright to see, or if his car had been teleported to a place of total whiteness.

He looked down and saw a light shining beside a bloodless wound in his chest. It was somewhat like the light that had taken Vergil's head off, but it was purple.

Ash forced his head to the right, and saw Dante in the exact same predicament, although his light was red.

"I told you that you'd see my perspective," Vergil's voice announced. To Ash, it seemed to be coming from outside.
"This wasn't the way I wanted, but it's the way you chose,"

Ash looked into the rearview mirror, finding the backseat shrouded in shadow. All he could see was a pair of yellow eyes glaring back at him.

"Relax, my champions of the supernatural," A new voice, that of a woman who sounded commanding and stiff enough to be Vergil's older sister.
"You have worked hard. You deserve a good rest. And when you awake, I will have a job that requires your unique services,"

Ash tried to move, but he felt bound by much more than his seatbelt. He was overcome with another feeling he had not felt in years; a parasitic emptiness he had only felt in his right hand when he had been forced to amputate it.

Now the emptiness spread through his whole body. It crept up from his chest and smothered him.

It terrified him.

A few moment later, he loved it.

DEMONS, or Ghostbusters x Evil Dead x Devil May Cry

Season 1, Episode 2

NEXT TIME ON JUSTICE LEAGUE INFINITE!

In the farthest reaches of the galaxy, a band of former rebels thrive in a new age of peace, and prepare themselves for the adventures that lay ahead. Their plans are shaken by the return of an old enemy thought dead, and the arrival of a strange blue box.

Coming soon!