Here is another update. :)
Thank you so much for the +10k views
I suggest you read my one-shot story "Soldier of one" before you start this chapter.
Chapter 20 ~ One More Nightmare
Lady suddenly opened her eyes and quickly sat up.
She found herself in the comfortable bed of an apartment with her weapons sitting safely next to her nightstand. There was a bad atmosphere in the room, it was stuffy.
Looking around, she was feeling oddly vulnerable. It was for a moment that she felt unsafe, wondering where she was until there was a sigh of confirmation. It was her own apartment.
She couldn't remember getting home last night.
"Ah! You're awake! How're you feeling?" A young man's gasp of surprise rung in her ear and a familiar person appeared before her.
At a glance, he looked like he was wearing fine cloths, just some black slacks with a button up shirt.
He looked like someone who spent the night here.
A touching look of deep surprise was expressed by him, but still, this abrupt situation worried her. A feeling of dread engulfed her within seconds.
Did she have a one night stand? Was she that wasted last night? She thought about it for a moment. . . Trying to recall what had happened yesterday.
She rested her hand on the rough paintwork that coats the door and pushed it open.
Wooden splinters cut into her palm but don't draw blood; shards of black paint crumble to the floor. The hinges squeal as though they're a warning, but the plea was silenced by a wall of noise.
Laughter overpowers the jukebox. Conversations swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stagnant stench of cigarettes hiding within the collaboration of beer aromas.
A sharp smell of alcohol wafts towards her, like black plumes billowing from the windows of a burning house. There's even a hint of vomit tainting the fragrance of the room.
"Wrong day, isn't it? Why'd ya come to Schmitty's tonight?" Josh asked her.
She didn't answer back, just went for the counter and took a seat, "Give me a hard drink. . . Now."
"Sure thing." The bartender said and grabbed a glass for her.
. . .
Staring at the young man, Lady took a closer look and unconsciously let one thing out of her chest.
"No. . . Please tell me we didn't. . . " She groggily spoke to herself, implying the question as she rubbed her eyes.
Josh's smile faded. The young man put his hand on Lady's forehead and relaxed soon after.
Good, so her fever hadn't returned though still her temperature was above the normal range.
With a relieved sigh, he spoke, "Thank god; your temperature's almost back to normal. You scared me half to death last night when you collapsed, thought it was liver failure or something.
Are you okay? Tell me if you're feeling off anywhere, I'll drive you to the hospital. You pick weird days to go drinking, I didn't expect to see you there. Come to think of it, never mind then."
Lady woodenly shook her head. She stared off into space, vacant for a moment.
"Wait a sec Josh, tell me what happened."
"Oh, last night? Well. . . We bumped into each other at the bar, I joined you for a drink and we talked a bit there." He paused for a moment.
Hesitantly, he told her, "Suddenly, you were- um, you-. . . You were crying. You started talking about Dante, how he said he'd come there with you and have some good times."
Lady sat up on the bed, hand clutching her face. The sheets fell away and she saw her clothes still remained on her. Memories slowly returned themselves.
"Yeah, I think I know now." She commented.
Josh sat on the chair next to the bed, concerned. The two of them weren't exactly close friends but still, it worried him to see her like this.
"Did you lose someone recently? I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't ask. I promise nothing happened." He muttered, "I just brought you back here to make sure you were okay."
Lady gazed back at him, "Thank you Josh. I needed that. I owe you another drink."
"Needed what?" He asked.
"Someone to care." She said.
Josh smiled back at her, "Of course."
He reached out and touched her shoulder. She felt a bit guilty, there was a possibility she was leading him on.
She didn't feel that way about anyone right now and. . .
No.
Now wasn't the time for her to be near anyone.
Silence fell.
"Are you okay now?" He asked again.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." She said and got up out of bed.
Josh left the chair and looked at her one last time, "Have a good day, feel free to stop by the diner anytime."
He bowed slightly and waved goodbye. Oh brother, this wasn't good.
She knew what he was thinking, it was just obvious in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke to her. Once the door was closed, Lady let out a sigh of relief.
Some fine mess this was, what a god damn joke. She would be fine for now, but god damn her drinking. That was the worst idea she had, now this little situation was brewing.
Guess she'll figure out something, but right now she supposed she'd grab a shower and wash her clothes.
. . .
"Yeah right." He was back to teasing again, "The last couple of days, you brought me nothing but shitty beers from the dollar store. When I get back, just give me a good job."
"I see you're still cold!" She shook her head, "I'll find something good as a welcoming."
. . .
She couldn't help but to laugh at the memory of their last conversation. The bastard never let up to the very end.
Tears won't bring back the dead and she was sure he wouldn't want her to fall into a deep depression, of course, he was always happy.
Dante had a knack for cutting out emotional bullshit.
With a sad smirk, she went for the bathroom to wash up. Time to start a new day.
She wore her usual poncho over her cloths, the weather seemed to be growing cold again, a bit temperamental. A little out of season this time of year.
The very moment she reached the street, her phone rang.
"Hello?" She sighed.
Loud screams burst through from the other side. She winced and moved the phone away.
Through the screams she managed to make out distorted, garbled words. It was speech, she knew that.
"What the hell?" She shouted to herself.
After a moment, the sounds turned to eerie static and she heard the words loud and clear.
"Help us! Wolves-"
"I'm on it. Where are you?" She automatically answered, the memory of her own attack fresh in her mind again.
The caller yelled their location for her.
"Stay alive, I'll be there." She closed the phone and darted for her motorcycle.
Wolves. Of course. Could they be like the one she'd seen that day?
Lady heard howling in the distant winds, far away from her current location. So she turned the key and burnt off gasoline as her bike roared forward.
She left black skid marks, zooming in and out between cars as she raced towards her client, weapons ready. Something seemed off about the city.
She hadn't noticed it at first because she was going too fast.
Along the way, she started to realize what she was looking at; corpses of the innocent locals hung by their entrails from street lamps, sometimes impaled.
It was just a few, but enough of a macabre sight to convince the others to flee. In fact, the streets were pretty dead right now.
Must be a big group of wolves.
She had this intense dread in the pit of her stomach, like the same blue and red eyes were staring back at her through the carnage as she saw more and more the streets were torn up and damaged.
Death hung heavy, a number of souls all hellbound strewn about the city roads, mocking her with their still-fresh faces. Each one stared out with a frozen look of horror, screaming at her to turn back.
All the brave soldiers that couldn't grow any older were asking after her, wondering why she wouldn't listen to their warnings.
Some thirty people had been killed, and she'd be the one to stop that number from rising.
Lady threw caution to the wind, racing as fast as she could with her cherry bike.
Coming to an intersection near the local Westfield mall, she saw a black figure towering over a defenseless woman protecting a small boy behind her.
The figure had black fur and slender ears reaching four inches off it's primary head. The face was twisted by fury.
The other head was smaller than the one she'd seen before, growing out of it's neck like a growth rather than being fully formed.
Blue and red eyes, just the same. . .
"Is this a damn invasion? Holy hell!" She yelled as she drew her pistol and fired a shot into it's eye, "Hey!"
The creature looked at her, roaring with rage.
"Get out of here!" She screamed through her open helmet.
She picked up speed and the two fled the scene, going the way she had come to them. It was the best shot she'd have at taking one of these beast's down.
Leaping off her motorcycle, the unmanned piece of metal crashed into the chest cavity of the particularly large brute. She flipped back onto her feet, staggering on a bit.
A searing surge of heat escaped the gas tank, boiling up the pressure into a massive explosion against the beast's putrefying flesh.
Through the fire and the flames, she saw the dogman emerge, torn up, and her tail pipe was lodged through the blue-eyed head off the side.
That second skull was barely intact, looking as if it were mostly hacked off, leaving the metal fragment of her bike woven mainly through the meat of its thick neck.
As it came for her, growling and broad-chested, the lady opened fire with both her pistols, pumping out lead shot after lead shot.
Coming up from the ashes, its hardened brawn was weakened somewhat, though still the bullets did not stop it's crawl forward.
She shot out an open sore on its knee, forcing the beast to the ground. She saw a piece of wood debris on the car hood nearby.
Dashing forward, Lady jammed the wood beam into its remaining mouth, driving the spike out the back of its skull.
Returning her attention forward, there were a pack of wolves suddenly emerged from behind cars and out of buildings and subway tunnels, all racing to meet her flesh.
Jumping atop an abandoned Chrysler beside the remains of her vehicle, another werewolf saw her actions with those crimson eyes.
It howled to the sky, and all wolves for miles felt a sense of murder, one of their brethren laid dead. Rage welled up, an onslaught of creatures came for her.
Demonic canines of all flavors made a straight line for her. Great. There were at least 7 predators nearest to her that had emerged initially, coupled with the eighth she'd killed.
More were coming, it sounded like a sonic boom of howls. She realized a grave error on her part. She looked around for someway out.
She darted into a building off to the side, running as fast as she could as the sounds of claws dragging concrete and stifled growls came for her.
Others ran in the streets, survivors whom the dogs had let go after they were called upon to kill the familiar Lady.
The stairs were an arduous task but there wasn't any time for an elevator.
She was in the mall and it was abandoned with its windows smashed. They'd already been in here.
She kept running, even as she saw one beast gallop beside her, the two separated by only a balcony-style gap as most mall second floors are.
Growling, it leapt off the metal railing and rose high through the air to try and close the distance between them. She rolled forward into a slide as its arm smashed a vacant, blood-stained shop door.
Twisting around, she fired off one shot from Kalina Ann, the rocket aimed at it's head. An explosion engulfed the creature into molten doom, tearing it apart in just the right combination.
Quickly swinging the weapon to another pinpoint, she blasted out one more shell at a werewolf that had managed to leap for her from below.
A force of agent orange crushed it back into the ground, grinding it through the white tiles as it's slower brethren began to get closer.
More running, she bolted through the doors outside to a bridge that led her into a parking lot. She hopped over the side and managed to grasp a stairwell.
Pulling up fairly easily, she defied her muscles plea to stop and indentured up the stairs further. The ghouls kept up their chase, dogging her endlessly.
Eventually, she reached the top, nowhere to go now. She made a break for it anyway to the edge. All that was down there was an elevated railway, roughly even with floor two.
She was on floor four. They'd attacked it earlier, a train had been derailed and left there unattended.
She turned back to see the pack had caught up with her, slowly surrounding her, encircling like normal wolves would a deer.
There must've been a gathered amount of at least sixty, but behind these dark creatures, a stranger emerged.
Of course, he wasn't that much of a stranger, to her horror, she recognized him very much.
Because that person was the alter ego of her father. . . Jester. His demented glare graced her eyes once more.
So much twisted hostility in those black beads mixed with, worst of all, lust. He was a disgusting monster that needed euthanizing.
Right now, he was in a bizarre, extreme state of being, looking as if someone had severely damaged his body, yet at the same time, he seemed to be stronger.
There was a raw power coming from him even she could feel.
His body was covered with black-tinged maroon blood stains.
She didn't know whether that was his own blood or the blood of others splattered on him, it was hard to tell because of the wounds that dotted his body.
Around him, there were a trio of human heads floating, two of them missing eyes. He rode atop a black horse, its mane made of orange flames.
The wolves paused their attack, they all stared at her father and that dark mount he was riding, as if they were waiting for his cue.
"You!" She exclaimed, terrified.
"Yes. . . Me!" He replied, "It's always me."
"How did you do this!?" She screamed at him, demanding answers.
"You've been a naughty girl, Mary. Very naughty indeed, I'm going to have to give you a spanking." He grinned, that wriggling tongue making an appearance once more, "I have to make up for last time."
She backed away, only to be reminded of her dead end.
Out of nowhere, all the wolves turned and their eyes burned her soul.
Lady took a stance, ready to defend herself. It was do or die. These bitches are tough. . .
Both the monster's she'd blown up with the bazooka had somehow picked themselves up, scrabbling over charred, falling apart practically.
"You can't have me!" She yelled, "You can't-"
She was struggling to find more words.
Jester raised one finger, that red nail sticking up crooked, "Make it good." He warned.
'Damn it, this is how it ends?' She thought to herself.
"You're sick. You think this'll bring you glory? I killed you! I'm not above doing it again." She said, raising her black M1911.
He laughed his head off.
"Oh dear, darling! You've really gone and done it now. . . I've gotten all excited. Take her." His words slithered out like old grease from a fryer.
Without hesitation, the demon-wolves lunged on her. She was prey, their gullets requiring tender flesh and red blood.
She raised her other weapon but her reflexes weren't faster than a canine's, they were built to be quick and agile.
Lady believed this was her doom. To be torn apart at the hands of father. They grew so close, closer and closer as time stopped, her life flying before her eyes.
A red, soothing light flickered inside, she could see it through the darkness of her soul. It was like a burning bush of flames, feeling all-encompassing like her mother's hug.
Then, this crimson light burst out from her body, taking the shape of a shield. Those that hadn't been vaulted back by the force of eruption were repelled by the radiance.
Their claws broke apart, the hands splintering into photons that shimmered up like fireflies. The light protected her.
The dogs whimpered and wheezed, whining like an ordinary dog at the loss of their limbs.
Jester growled and forced them to try again, one hurled itself into the shield, its entire body colliding.
It too suffered the same fate, breaking apart into plasmatic ions that dispersed across the sky.
She looked at her hands in disbelief, beholden to the otherworldly glow emerging from her.
In a rage, her father launched a torrent of black gusts at her, trying to wear the shield down as more wolves came for her.
She felt a surge pull her backwards, but she refused to let it down, finding the shield was one with her will. More anthropic dogs lost their limbs.
Switching strategies, the clown ceased the dark torrents.
Numerous illusion blades collided with her shield, the wolves falling back. These golden daggers were comparable to Vergil's summoned swords.
Where had he attained this power!? The shield was growing weaker and weaker, it seemed it would soon dissipate if he kept this up. She had to find another solution again.
Lady was squinting her eyes, struggling to maintain the field.
The question of what this was would have to come later, for now it was serving her needs well enough.
The light seemingly focused out from Charlotte's necklace, and it indeed saved her for a moment.
No time to wonder more, she felt the shield crack under pressure, and a blade sliced clean through her shoulder during a diagonal rotation.
She stopped for a moment to take her breath, sweat trickled down her forehead as time slowed. She felt blood flow from her right shoulder.
The blowback sent her back into the ledge, and she saw the train again over the border.
Well, only one way out of here now.
Glancing once more back at her father, their hate-filled eyes locked glares, and then, she jumped.
Heaving herself over the side, Jester didn't expect it, yelling out "No!"
He zipped to the edge, off his steed. Planting his purple feet onto the concrete. He looked over the thick barrier and saw nothing. She was gone.
He smashed both his fists on the barrier, bellowing to the heavens that she'd somehow escaped from him again. How!?
She had that infernal death machine strapped to her back all the time, that had to weigh a ton, how does she just disappear!?
"Fan out! I want her found!" He raged to his wounded legion, Arkham's voice shifting in control.
As they departed from the rooftop, they began to lunge from structure to structure, looking in a panicked, disorderly fashion. He will find her, it was only a matter of time.
Down below, Lady laid on her back inside the train car, crashed through the window. Though there were pieces of glass stuck in her, she'd landed on a pile of dead humans.
It unnerved her, the fact that her survival came from their deaths. She felt a potential sprain in her left ankle but she could still move. Falling like that sucks, especially when lacking proper equipment.
What's going on? These creatures were supposed to be Sparda's protectors for humanity, why had they emerged so evil? Why were they helping Arkham?
That giant man in Fortuna. . . That night. She knew it was connected to her, to the tower in some way. . . Her father was back, as established, only now. . .
He had company.
According to Modeus, they could only follow Sparda. At least, that's what they believed, but Modeus practiced under Sparda, knew him.
He's more than some historian like the rest of them, if anyone could get it right, it was him. And now this, how would she escape?
The wolves would smell her soon enough, zero in on her presence.
The sense of creeping death was etched into her chest, it didn't matter how crafty she might be.
And that strange light. . . That power was impressive to her lowly human-self, but she knew it wasn't anywhere strong enough to defeat her father, whose power was exercised effortlessly.
She didn't even know what it was or if she could call upon it again. She tried again laying there, just for the hell of it. Nothing happened. She tried it out again, focusing, but nothing would come.
That power was gone. She stayed there, realizing her smell was masked by the stench of the dead. She chose to move out of the way of the open window though, just in case.
There wasn't anything more though, the sounds were gone, and so she opened the door to the car, emerging from the slanted train bruised.
While the half she exited was still attached to the train above, the other end was on the ground below, having smashed the pavement.
It had been one of many to grind along the parking lot's ground floor entrance, the rest were all inside, having bashed through support pillars.
Like that, the wolves were gone.
She wandered around, looking at the public devastation, so much property damage had been done to this city. She saw others waking from the cars, grievously injured in the crash.
Lady spent the rest of the morning looking around, working with the locals to uncover more details, corroborating other reports.
According to a number of people, a few days ago, ever since she'd returned home from the island, the attacks had never ceased.
The attacks were frequent, ruthless. They'd been occurring at night mostly, this was the first happen during the day.
It was to the point people were becoming too afraid to walk outside, either staying in perennial groups and/or carrying some kind of a weapon to protect themselves.
Usually the wolves kill a few people, leaving their bodies as grisly displays.
Today marked the first time they'd destroyed parts of the city on a wider scale.
It wasn't so bad as to warrant military intervention, but worse enough to create panic. Panic creates paranoia, paranoia breeds distrust, and distrust destroys humanity.
Some thirty four victims were found across the city, always the same motif. The cops were out in force, time to hide.
Unfortunately, she had to do this alone. She wasn't ready to face Vergil again.
Maybe she could find Modeus somehow, warn him about what's happening before her father takes it too far. She trusted him.
He could certainly look at this more constructively, he had the means, the understanding, the strength and the knowledge to combat that clown.
For now, she needed to track down Arkham somehow, even though she knew it was fruitless.
If demons didn't want to be found, they would remain unseen. But she wouldn't give into this fact, she needed to end him for good this time. He had done enough damage.
And then there was this pendant, the power she'd drawn out from herself. She tried again for the next several hours during a down minute every so often.
Nothing though. So bizarre, she knew she was controlling it somehow.
After things had 'calmed down' as much as they could, she started heading for the park where she first laid eyes on him.
He might be there. He had to be.
On her way there, she could sense the atmosphere was corrupt.
It was obvious in everyone's eyes, they're all afraid, trying to live their lives out like everything's normal. Nothing's normal.
Nothing would be normal for a long, long time. Death was around every corner, in every shadow. Could you trust your neighbor?
Where did the wolves go? It was plausible they were just human's in disguise, or at least that's what their fear drove them to believe.
It was amazing what people could convince themselves was real if it so suited there spiritual belief.
She changed directions, heading for the bus stops. She made her choice to leave back to the source, to the very beginning of the attacks.
The source of the wolves, as they were first seen, lay off inland somewhere, far out of town. She'd find it, she knew. The skies were moody.
The past several days had shaken her confidence, and left her disheartened, bored with life.
So, working this investigation right now was a great exercise in mourning her own way, to avoid sitting around doing nothing.
She knew Dante would do just the same, so in his honor, she'll finish this troubling mission one way or another.
"Don't get in trouble without inviting me, got it?" . . . Yeah, I got it.
With a solemn smile, she started moving for her destination. . . Time to do her job. It is, after all, what she lives for.
The whole ordeal was at once both exciting and confusing, "Here, I'm in trouble." She said, addressing Dante, "Wonder what I'll do."
Lady was supposed to be back downtown for another client. She'd have this coming night to assure them she'll take care of it and discuss her payment.
A girl's gotta eat. She brushed off the fog in her mind, but her mouth was so full of lies. The thoughts of the future never once left her mind, so she kept her eyes closed.
She kept praying, waiting on. She was waiting for a day that she knew would never come.
She just wanted warmth, searching forever lost forever more, the sunshine never comes.
That was what her depression felt like, this horrible agony that assured nothing would ever get better, so she just hid inside herself, crawled back in to have her time another day.
Being stranded in a tiny inn at the outskirts of town inside the inn's pub, which looked like it hadn't been decorated since Sparda's era, was not her idea of enjoyment before a job.
She should laugh it off and have fun, like a certain crazy friend she had. Used to have.
Indeed, the place looked old from medieval time, around the 13th century, she arbitrarily supposed.
Stories about this place were told: Sparda came to these parts and gathered the humans living at the time, protecting them from the dangers of demons.
That was such a distant time ago, supposedly over a thousand years. He kept living here from then on, somewhere close by.
All the humans built a shrine for him as a memento, some considering Sparda to be the Christian god come down in the form of a devil, to test their judgment.
And so they worshipped him, like those of Fortuna. Of course, he didn't take to the fanatics.
Lately, these days rumors had spread around of a demonic figure residing inside the shrine, forcing those who enter to do his bidding. . .
No one knows the task exactly, but this entity apparently doesn't appear to those who are not 'worthy,' whatever that means.
Interesting place to be indeed. She could maybe enter the shrine herself, just to see if he was real.
Why was it always a 'he' anyway? Female demons get no respect in legends. . . Separate Worlds?
Not so much.
After speaking to the owner, a bit short and broad man in his seventies, she was kindly given a small room on the first floor which clearly hadn't been slept in for some time.
Still, at least it was sanitary, they kept it clean all these years and it did make her feel comfortable to lay there. The window view was beautiful, she can see the green land in the other side.
She took a moment to rest there and make sure of her artillery.
Once Lady walked out, she joined the other guests at the bar, everyone was nice and friendly, treating her well. She felt herself having a good time, despite everything. Coming to this place wasn't a bad idea after all.
She had a fine, enjoyable special to eat, it was halibut fished from a nearby river. The cook in the back was a gracious fellow, unlike the one she was used to in her usual places.
With food now finished, she sat in a cozy armchair by an old looking fireplace, deciding to kill the pain and boredom she felt by going out for a few pints of local beer and a bottle of wine.
The flames crackled around before her, and as the evening drew in and the numbing of alcohol took effect, she actually was almost glad to spend time here...maybe make it a habit and return for an actual vacation without weapons or anything.
This area of town may have been somewhat bleak, but against the cold winds outside and darkening earth, the inn was not without charm.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there, lost in her own thoughts as she was by the heat from under the mantelpiece and a few glasses of red merlot.
She was joined by another guest at the inn, didn't exactly realize it at first. He sat across from her on the other side of the fireplace.
He sat there gazing at nothing in particular.
The man appeared to be relatively young, probably in his early twenties, but he offered up a vibe of loneliness and strange guilt.
Mixed with fragility, one would normally not expect to see these qualities in a man of his age. He just seemed. . . Lost. Alone.
Trying to be friendly wasn't her best strong suit.
For some reason, she could feel something odd about him, some kind of an aura that unsettled her.
Her intuition nagged her too much.
"Why are you looking at me like that!?" She heard the words but didn't register them until they were repeated.
"Excuse me, why are you looking at me like that? Do I look like the boogeyman to you?" The man addressed her in a sharp manner.
She was taken aback by the realization that she had been staring at him for several minutes, that wasn't polite of her to do . . . it's just feeling in her gut about him.
"No. It's not like that." She answered apologetic, "I-uh. . . I thought you looked like someone I know."
As he turned to face her, he displayed in his expression a look of annoyance at her obvious lie. It's so typical, it isn't the first time this happened to him.
Yet his face softened. He saw her empty glasses and the bottle, it all made some sense.
"I apologize if I was short with you," He said. "It's just that I'm sick and tired of people fearing me around here. I'm normal like anyone else. I'm just unlucky."
He raised his voice at the end of his sentence and cast a wide eye around the pub to the few people still around.
She sensed that those people wished to avoid him as much as possible, make him walk away and never come back. They are afraid of him. Like he is some kind of a boogeyman.
Both Lady and the man stayed and had small talk for a couple of minutes. His name was Sam Horton and he was a former businessman from a company for techs, back in the middle of the city.
He claimed to be on a vacation down here, far away from the crowded noises, but she instantly rooted out that he wasn't anywhere close to comfortable talking with her.
Why!? Was she socially awkward to him or his troubles stopped him?
In fact, he quickly changed the focus of the conversation to her entirely; why she was there, where she lived, anything about her.
It was as if he needed their conversation to continue in an obvious, failed attempt to keep his mind distracted from a hidden fear. Ever so often he would look around to make sure no one was watching him.
Each time, she attempted to ask a question about what really bugged him, he would either provide vague answers of something simple, obvious lies, or he would ignore them altogether.
"Look, sir, my job is to take care of anything strange and abnormal. Why don't you tell me what happened? You seem shaken. Are. . . Are the wolves after you?"
"Shhh!" He hissed at her, ironically drawing attention. He kept silent at first, looking deep in her eyes. Should he tell her?
"Okay, I'm gonna tell you something I saw a day ago, at least."
. . .
Finally, the conversation was over. She found herself being the one trying to carry it and keep the focus going.
For a moment they sat in silence, the only sounds coming from a few locals propping up the bar with their loud chatters.
Some of them were couples who started to have a little too much fun with each other. They should've gotten a room.
The pub was now noticeably dimmer, with most of the light being provided by a few small overhead lamps, and the fire continued to crackle and flicker all evening.
She turned to one of the windows outside, seeing nothing but darkness and clouds at first. The light of candles reflected off certain spots around the place.
The light started to appear from the houses and stores nearby. It was getting late.
Then she just spoke to him, "Why would people be afraid of you, Sam?" She had to know, it could be connected to what she is looking for.
There was a long pause as she looked at him while awaiting an answer. His gaze fell to the floor, but his face silently shouted horrible fear.
It seems to her, he did not want to remember what happened to him, like it's something unbelievable, all the chattering of the other inn mates eating him alive.
"They all know, but they don't have the courage to be kind and offer me some help." Turning to the few fellow locals still in the pub he then shouted, "They're all afraid of him! He threatened them all."
"What are you hiding? I can help." Lady insisted to him that she was capable, "Who is this person who threatened them?"
. . .
Shirking off the shivers of a wandering mind and laughing to himself for being so easily affected by this place, the rumors got to him good, there wasn't a doubt about it.
But he would be the brave man who took the chance to visit this shrine where dark demonic magic took place, he would be the one to solve this mystery.
This area here was the darkest hell he'd ever known, worse than any board room he was confined to, worse than any injury he'd ever had.
There is something strange in the air he just couldn't describe, a feeling in his guts.
Still, he was determined, he wanted to prove to the people that there wasn't anything here, all his desires point to silencing them once and for all.
Sam's gaze had finally fallen upon the oddly decorated front entrance of the shrine.
Reaching out, he ran his fingers over the rough edges of the circular handle and he opened the door.
Inside he saw a figure in a tan cloak sitting in front of candles.
"Those who walk where they do not belong shall face the consequences." The man whispered, an eerie chill swaying up his spine, "You shall listen to me if you value your life."
. . .
"The man had this deep voice. . . I saw his hands, they were white like a twisted ghost." Sam paused slightly. "Because of him, I lost sleep, he forced me to help him release the wolves or I'd be killed."
Lady thought about it for a moment, a tan cloak?
She'd seen people of the order wearing tan cloaks.
Why had they not subsided?
Who was this person inside, were they still loyal to the order?
Sam stared at her confused.
"Thank you, I'll see to this issue." She waved goodbye and left, determined to reach inside the shrine and pull out it's secrets to the light of day.
She walked out of that old building, it's hallowed bricks ringing with a presence of unity, safety. She started heading to this so-called shrine, it wasn't far from where she was.
From the grassy roadsides, it looks like nothing. There's just weary double doors painted a fading brown. They were closed, which meant nothing to her; each door had some outlandish decoration.
This entrance wore bullet holes through it, that's not good. Maybe the natives had tried to defend themselves against whoever was here.
People around were looking at her symptomatically, strangely, all wondering what her ragged sort were doing in town. Some of them even approached her,
"Please, don't go in there."
"Walk away, save yourself."
But she went ahead anyway, though she chose not to storm in like an amateur soldier. She went in slow, silent.
The air inside felt not of this Earth. She couldn't put her finger on why for a moment. Casting her flashlight around, she saw dusty church chairs moved slightly from their original plots.
The floor left impressions from where they'd set previously and the dust helped shape a trail of motion, perhaps thanks to the weather's return to the frigid kind.
In front of the altar, there was a statue of Sparda. Cobwebs had been gathering around it.
"What happened here?" She wondered. This place supposedly had been abandoned for only a few days.
Nonetheless, no one was there now. This place was completely empty.
Still, her gut warned her of something here. . . Though she was not exactly sure what that was.
After a second of wondering, Charlotte's necklace started glowing again, no, reacting. It cast light out in front of her, illuminating her way far more effectively.
"Hm." She allowed the necklace to lead her to wherever it wanted.
. . .
Back to the city, the red soul listens to cacophonous squabbling, wondering when these foul demons will stop their nonsense. . .
"I've no knowledge of this, my apologies." Modeus sighed, "I know not why she still lays asleep, I've tried all my invocations."
Manah came forward and stopped him, "Hold it, Sparda-flop, I was here first, I will work to reverse this."
"You're only doing this for your own goals, Manah."
Manah shrugged, "Of course I am, does anyone think I'm not?"
Other's in the room didn't disagree. Manah chose not to hide it. It built trust in a weird sense.
Modeus shook his head and continued the conversation,
"I find it extremely abnormal that they're still around, even after the savior was defeated." He took a breath.
Thinking hard, the man addressed Vergil, "Did you see anything out of the ordinary in Fortuna, something that stood out to you as bizarre?"
Vergil gave it some thought but still his mind couldn't conjure anything.
He wasn't exactly in the best mental shape during his time there either.
"No, I have nothing beyond fighting a giant stone statue." He sighed.
Patty came over to the desk and placed two tea cups for them, "Have some tea, maybe it'll help you concentrate."
"Thank you miss Lowell." Modeus gave her a gentle smile in response.
"Your welcome." She replied and returned to the couch where Tony sat reading. Manah was about to speak to her when Vergil cleared his throat.
The demon gazed back at him. Vergil pointed at his eyes and then pointed back at him. . . Gesturing that he was watching like a hawk.
"I know," He winked back at him, "I merely wanted a cup of tea myself, young day-tripper."
"I had to deal with a giant horde of them in the forest out of town, where my old house still stands." Modeus continued, ignoring Manah.
Either he was targeted, or they are gathering out there, preparing for something.
The more Vergil heard about this, the more his anxiety grew. This could turn into another apocalypse for this poor city.
Or, maybe he was just paranoid they'd insist on tackling the problem the hard way. He was a fan of efficiency, not piety.
"I'll go out and check the last place they attacked." Vergil said. "I got a call detailing information about an attack downtown; lots of victims and a derailed train."
Modeus voiced sympathy, "That's unfortunate. I'll find my brother and return to you when I know something to help your friend."
With that he stood up, adjusted his coat, and walked out.
. . .
The warmth of the sun's bronze light was swallowed by the red black horizon. A half sunny day engulfed in overcast darkness.
A beautiful darkness. A darkness where laughter lines illuminate and seem to turn from creaks to craters as a being smiled at the scintillating moon.
Somebody somewhere knew, even if they had no idea. The primary stage of this night was to come soon, an old enemy resurfaced to face a man not knowing where to be.
Patty near him, trying to make him laugh. It almost worked.
Tony was sitting on a chair counting the money he'd obtained. They'd need to launder it of course, but there's nothing like a little bit of mad money lying around.
He lit a cigarette, using a candle Vergil had bought as an ash tray. That was meant to be a lavender-scented candle for incense purposes, now it was 'liquid crap.'
Vergil restrained himself from killing the poor idiot thanks to the small girl. He reminded himself of the money.
Modeus left them an hour or so ago with the promise to return for a cure to the ginger woman's ails.
"You have to stay here Patty. . . Just for a couple of minutes." Vergil said, and placed Dante's amulet around her neck, "You should be fine. Lock the door."
Patty stared at the jewel for a moment, amused by it's beauty.
"Don't be back too soon." She said casually, but he could hear the anxiety in her voice.
"Yeah, okay. It won't take long, I need to go look at something nearby." He replied and tapped her shoulders. Dante's signature smile appeared on his face, and so she was assured.
"Don't open the door to anyone but me." He continued.
"Yeah, even if he comes back with two dead guys and a hooker." Tony said sarcastically.
That attitude was something Vergil couldn't quite erase.
"Okay." She said softly and closed the front door, locking it behind them immediately.
Manah was in front of them, whistling as he walked slowly along the side walk.
"So, where to?" He asked, glancing back at him.
"To Kingsland street, that's quite a bit of walk ahead." He remarked and the two strode onwards.
Somewhere in the distance an owl sounded off, awakening the nocturnal nature of all those that dwell where they dwell. The lustrous, dancing stars glinted in the sky, brightening evermore.
Vergil felt there was no such thing as darkness, merely a space without light, as long as the moon iridescently shines and the stars gleam above it, there's never complete darkness.
Besides, this is nothing compared to the demon world.
To Be Continued. . .
LxJ Note
Thank you for reading everyone :) Will, things are heating up nicely.
Stay tuned for more. It's going to take awhile until chapter 21.
I want to add another song to the list." Ashes by Endway." It is a bit of a strange song but still helped me.
...See you later, in the next update...
Yo, Angel Wolf here, figured I'd dispense the formalities and just write a straight up note, HOW ARE YOU ALL?
Oh it feels really good to be back writing this, I broke my hand and that just delayed everything, so a lot of my frustration went into my progress here.
So the narrative goal of this chapter is just to introduce the season-long plot. We disagree on length, I feel this universe has a viable length to it.
There might be a season 3, dunno yet, I hope so though. Still too early to say.
Anyone who missed it, check out Soldier Of One, which is a prequel one-shot me and LxJ did.
Just a nice little something that goes as a special companion piece to this chapter in particular.
Music used was:
Here Comes Revenge by Metallica | The Day That Never Comes by Metallica | Voice of The Soul by Death | Daylight Again (Again) by CSN | God Complex by The Enigma TNG/
Battery by Metallica | The Devil Cried by Black Sabbath | Thunder Soft Rain - Mother Nature Sound FX | Human Beings by Seal | Primal Concrete Sledge by Pantera/
And There Will Your Heart Be Also by Fields of the Nephilim | Give the Mule What He Wants by Queens of the Stone Age | and Harvester of Sorrow (Again) by Metallica/
That's everything, see ya later.