Blessed And Cursed
Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who wished me good luck for the exams :D Unfortunately, they're not over yet -.- So I just drop this chapter here and run off to study for the last two exams (of which I'm the most afraid of, by the way D:)
Also, did I already mention that this whole fic is inspired by the album "Blessed And Cursed" by Devil Sold His Soul? If you like post-hardcore or screamo, you should check them out ^.^
Replies:
Not-Completely-Insane – Well, the demon picked the wrong time to barge in. And Trish and Lady just gave Nero a shock (who wouldn't be shocked, considering their entrance in the last chapter xD) Thanks for the review ^.^
SirenaLoreley – I think both Dante and Nero send mixed signals and confuse each other xD Thanks for reviewing! :D
bitbyboth – I'm glad you liked the dance scene. I was quite unsure about it when I wrote it and I think I have rewritten it like hundred times xD Thanks for the feedback :D
xXchantillyXx – Thank you very much, I'm glad you like the fic ^.^ Thanks for reviewing :)
PureVampirePriestess – Hehe, thanks for the compliment and the corrections, they really helped me :D I try to fix that as soon as possible. The things you mentioned are the result of switching between two languages in my head – sometimes, I just write an English sentence with a German sentence structure and just stare at it for ten minutes and wonder why it sounds so weird xD Oh, and about the "awkward and uptight"-thing – that also comes from German being my first language – EVERYTHING sounds awkward and aggressive in German (it's really not a beautiful language...) so I just don't notice things like these right away xD
Thanks for the review :D
WARNING: This chapter is quite dark and angsty in the beginning and contains rape and notions of suicide (maybe it was slightly influenced by my exam stress? I feel bad for torturing Nero like that T_T).
Chapter 5 – Frozen
It never snowed in Fortuna. The one and only time I had seen snow there was during the savior incident when one of the demons went crazy and coated the whole Fortuna castle with ice. But that snow had been artificial, nothing compared to the real thing. I watched as the flakes landed on my skin, lingering a moment there before melting away.
Here in Fort Rosemount, about a day trip away from Fortuna, it actually snowed in winter. I was amazed when I saw the way the white flakes danced down from the clouds, mingling with my hair that was dyed in a bright artificial electric blue at the moment. Darkness was slowly setting in, even though it was quite early – that was something that I had to get used to yet.
This town was quite nice and I considered moving here – but unfortunately, there were no demons to slay here and I didn't know what else I could do for a living...
I leaned against the railing of the pier that was decorated with small icicles that glittered in the fading sunlight, my breath coming out in small puffs, and stared at the steel-gray waves of the ocean. The ocean looked so different here. In Fortuna, the water always was a pure azure, shimmering slightly green and the sand of the beaches was a dusty off-white, littered with hundreds of different sea shells that were washed up to the shore. Kyrie and I had spent much time on the beach when we were kids. She would always try to rub sunscreen all over me, saying that I would get sunburned. I, on the other hand, would always try to get away from her and she chased me across the whole beach, the lotion still in her hand. In the end, she was right – I always got burned and returned home red as a lobster where Kyrie's parents – my adoptive parents – would scold me for not listening to her.
When did she stop caring about me? As long as I remembered, she had always been there and watched over me. I had protected her – I always had protected her, I always had cared for her. I even considered death for her and how did she pay me back...?
I rubbed my eyes. She's not there anymore and it doesn't matter. I'm better off alone anyway.
I looked at my human hand – there were still two rings there – one on my ring finger with a rose engraving and the ring with the Order's insignia on my trigger finger. Automatically, I pulled off the Order's ring and tossed it away. It disappeared in the ocean's waves, sinking instantly.
I took a deep breath but it didn't help. I felt helpless and lost, as if it wasn't the ring that was sinking to the ground but me. I was drowning in my self-loathing, the hate I felt for myself as I remembered why I even was here.
Minutes before, I had even pondered to stay for a a few days longer than I had intended at first. Brushing off the thought, I went back to the hotel to get ready for the night.
–
Many hours later, I staggered out of the club. I didn't know where I was, where I had to go to or how I was supposed to get there. I didn't even know what I had done the entire night. Faint memories lingered in my drunken mind – I remembered darkly going down on a guy in a dark corner of the club and how the bartender had splashed water into my face much later, telling me to 'get the fuck out' because they were closing.
I shivered when the cold night air hit me. Maybe I wasn't dressed properly. I was cold and I wanted to go home. Tch, home. As if I had a place where I belonged. At least the cold helped me to clear my mind a little.
In my fogged mind, I didn't register the steps that came closer and closer to me – until it was too late.
Suddenly, a knife was pressed against my throat. "Don't make a sound", a husky and unfamiliar male voice hissed, "Or I'll kill you."
Would the injury seriously kill me if he slit my throat? For whatever reason, I wanted him to. This reminded me why I was here. To forget, to drown in a dark lake of pain, to fade away.
He dragged me back into the alley I just left, all the while pressing the blade up to my neck. I didn't know why I didn't even attempt to free myself from his grip. I could have broken it any time with my bringer. Oh yeah, the thing that started all the trouble.
He pressed himself close to me, his hand slid lower to my groin and I wrinkled my nose in disgust when I felt his hard member on my backside. I knew what was going to happen – why didn't I do anything against it? Well, I probably deserved to be treated like this anyway.
I didn't protest when he slid down my jeans and entered me without any preparation. My inner walls tore and I felt blood dripping down my thighs. There went my virginity. Sure, I had hooked up with many men before but up to now I had refused penetration and anytime anyone would get too close to my backside, I left. I used to think that I would lose my virginity to someone I loved, not in a back alley to some stranger. I felt filthy and I hated myself for letting this happen.
Some kind of white noise filled my head, it sounded as if there was a radio in my head and someone was trying to find the right frequency. And there was a deep voice which repeated the same words over and over: "Fight back!"
But I didn't. I didn't even make a sound and endured what he was doing to me.
He didn't show any mercy on me and to me there was nothing sensual about it. His hands shoved my head against the cold brick wall while he kept on thrusting in and out of me. I felt disgusted with myself. I couldn't understand why I endured this. My mind was blank, the static noise lingering there and humming like an angry swarm of bees. I barely registered that he finished, feeling hot liquid fill me and I finally threw the punch I should have thrown in the beginning. He stumbled back, cussing at me but I stopped his protests when I grabbed him by his collar and slammed him into the wall. It was dark, even with my enhanced demonic vision I couldn't make his face out but it didn't matter.
He whimpered something but I ignored it as I snapped his neck. The corpse slumped down onto the ground, empty eyes staring into the dark sky. Snow fell down from above.
White is the color of innocence. Something I just had lost completely. Maybe something I had never possessed because I was tainted, I was damned – I was cursed with my demonic heritage.
I felt the tears stream down my cheeks as I realized what I just lost, what I did with my life. I cursed my existence, the emptiness I tried to fill so desperately.
I found myself wishing that I was dead – the guy should have slit my throat and all of it would have been over.
The wind was icy, cutting in the exposed skin of my face and hands but I was numb. I didn't feel anything when I walked the streets of the small town. The stream of tears had stopped and I just stared up into the sky, watching the white flakes.
–
Little white pills decorated the floor of the hotel room. Two pill bottles were already empty. I raised the bottle of valium to my lips, chugging the liquid down at once, waiting for the drugs to show effect. I lost track of how many pills I had already swallowed, all I knew in my clouded mind was that I wanted to die.
I never expected that my life would end like this. I never wanted to commit suicide but I couldn't take it anymore.
My limbs felt heavy and I felt like shit. Breathing became harder and harder but I didn't want to breathe anyway. It will be over soon.
They say that your whole life flashes in your mind's eye in near-death situations like this. I closed my eyes. I heard laughter... An echo of the past – Kyrie and me when we ran down the beach, laughing and playing. It's one of the saddest sounds in the world, in fact – children playing. It's a light sound, filled with joy and happiness. When I was young, there was nothing I had to worry about. Life was so easy. And now, I die at the age of nineteen. Pathetic.
I heard music – a little tune played by a violin, a gentle voice singing. Ocean waves. Insects buzzing and birds singing, leaves whispering in the breeze... And suddenly the scene changed – swords clattered against each other, a voice was yelling at me, mocking me. Gunshots. A deep baritone voice talked but I couldn't make the words out...
This is it, I'm done with fighting. I couldn't breathe anymore... I give in, I surrender.
"We're the same... You and I... You and I... "
I knew that voice...
A roar made its way through my mouth and a flash of blue nearly blinded me. My body was triggering on its own, pulling me back to life. I sat up and gasped for air.
The hotel room came into my view again. I was on the floor, the pills scattered all around me, the bottles rolling around on the floor.
I was laughing and crying at the same time. I was alive! But I didn't want to live.
The effect of the drugs was washed away by my demonic blood. No matter what I did, I just couldn't get away from it. No matter what I tried, my demon half was always the cause for failure in the end. I stared at my devil bringer. I wanted to die! Was that too much to ask?
Angrily, I punched the wall closest to me, leaving a hole there. I just didn't want to suffer anymore.
I jolt awake with a scream, wincing a little again when I felt a sharp spike of pain in my devil bringer.
No, not this memory again. Not now of all times!
I had tried so hard to suppress it, to forget it, but it was to no avail. It kept on haunting me again and again.
After that guy had raped me, I tried to blame the alcohol again but deep down I knew it was my own addiction to self-destruction that had caused the situation to escalate. I never was someone for hurting myself – no, I desperately tried to forget everything, to act as if I didn't even care but I was lying to myself. I had acted mindlessly and almost died...
It was pathetic that I was used to this treatment. Everybody would use me to their own advantage and throw me away afterwards. It even surprised myself that this memory didn't scar me further – I've done so many bad things in the last year that I deserved it anyway. And he got his punishment, too – I killed him after all.
It was ridiculous for me to feel filthy after that... incident happened. I had never been innocent to begin with. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to exist. My real parents had known that too and abandoned me. Even though I wasn't born with my bringer, I always had known I was an outcast – and that not only because of the way I looked. Something was wrong with me but I hadn't been aware of my demonic heritage until it sprouted within me after the demon attack where I tried to save Kyrie. When I grew up, I realized that I was much stronger and faster than other kids and that I never got sick. I was told that everyone had a voice in the back of their heads that told them what was wrong and right – the conscience. But in my head, there were always two voices. One seemed to be rational while the other gave in to carnal urges more easily and was the cause for all the trouble I made. Up to Agnus' little 'experiment' on me, I had only heard the second voice very quietly but its presence was always there in my mind. After the savior incident, it didn't drown out the other voice in my head again – well, up to the point when I tried to commit suicide. Whenever I was fighting, I avoided to trigger – it felt wrong to me, like an abnormality, something that shouldn't be there.
The demon attack back then had changed my life – the demon had lunged at Kyrie but I threw myself in front of her in the last minute and it cut my right arm instead of her neck. After that my devil bringer evolved and no one could explain why. It didn't matter to me why it was there – I had been ashamed of it and hid it. Usually, Kyrie and I could tell each other everything – we had no secrets. But this – how should I explain it to her? I didn't know so I just kept silent – which was a mistake as it turned out in the end. She abandoned me because of that, the whole city turned on me because of it.
It hurt to think that nobody really needed me and that I somehow always got in the way. Why was I even alive? What stopped me from trying to kill myself again and ending my miserable existence now once and for all? It should be easy – I could slit my wrists, slit my throat or drink a liter of bleach or poison – or I could jump down from one of those skyscrapers. What was stopping me from doing it?
I slapped myself. What am I thinking? For the very first time in my life, I was actually happy – here with Dante and all I could think of were ways to kill myself just because of a nightmare? Goddammit.
I knew that my bringer wouldn't cause trouble here. Dante and I went out tonight and no one asked any questions about my arm! No one called me names. People just didn't care here and I was glad for the urban anonymity. I felt completely normal for the first time in my life.
But still, how could someone like me even get involved with Dante? I was broken. I was afraid that he would abandon me just like Kyrie had done. I couldn't allow myself to get my hopes up, it would only lead to a disaster.
I felt how my eyes started prickling. Don't you dare to cry now, Nero. You've cried enough the last few days.
It was enough now. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
My dark phase was over, this stupid stage of my life was over! It was time to move on and to make sure I never made the same mistakes again. And I already did a good start by moving in here, didn't I? No reason to look back again. Ever. I am happy now. Well, much happier than before. No reason to look back, no reason at all.
Reassuring that to myself calmed me down a little and closed my eyes, listening to the noises of the city. Capulet City was quite noisy at night. Even at an late hour like this, I could hear a lot of cars outside and occasionally, a car horn sounded from somewhere in the distance. I had to get used to that much noise but it would be an easy task.
Somehow, everything here seemed to be much easier than in Fortuna. Maybe it was because of Dante…? My life really improved since he stepped back into it and convinced me to move in here – and that's something, considering I've been here for only a day. Nonetheless, I felt home. Should I really ask myself why or simply accept that fact? It was not a bad thing that I felt comfortable here. I liked the city, the office, I liked Dante. I guess time would tell.
There I was again, brooding too much. At least the shock of my nightmare had subsided. I shifted into a more comfortable position, nuzzling my nose in the pillows a little.
This was a new beginning and I had to make the best of it, simple as that.
As I drifted off to sleep, one last thought haunted my mind though. I hope destiny doesn't try to prove me wrong this time.
Dante roused me from sleep the next day when he yelled at someone… or something downstairs. Groggily, I looked at the alarm on the small bedside table and darted out of my room into the shower – I had overslept and exactly ten minutes to be downstairs in hunting gear, ready to leave for the mission.
When I arrived downstairs, Dante was staring at a sheet of paper, in his other hand was a crumbled envelope.
"Can you believe that?", he asked me, his voice slightly trembling from anger.
"Good morning to you too", I replied, yawning tiredly.
"The 'Phoenix' sent me a bill!", he continued rambling, "They want me to pay for the damage that this demon caused! As if I wasn't in debt enough!"
I shrugged it off, it was too early for that. "So what's this mission about?", I asked, rubbing my eyes and suppressed another yawn.
"I'm not sure myself", he mumbled, still staring at the bill as if he hoped it would pay itself. "Trish said something about a huge nest of demons… didn't say which kind though…", he continued his rambling for a while and I went into the kitchen, pouring myself a cup of black tea. I was surprised that the old man even had tea in the poorly equipped kitchen. There was a coffee maker too but I didn't like the bitter taste of coffee – to me, it tasted like chalk and just unnatural.
We left for the mission a little later and arrived on the outskirts of a forest.
Dante shouldered two very colorful swords with serrated blades – he left his broadsword at the office – and gestured me to follow him.
We walked in silence for a while, listening intently for any noises.
"You hear that, kid?", he said and paused.
I looked around – everything seemed pretty normal. The wind was silently rustling through the leaves of the trees, the light breeze was warm in the late summer air. But something just didn't feel right. I just shrugged.
"It's quiet", Dante whispered, "There are no animals here, no chirping birds, no sign of life at all."
Now I felt stupid for not noticing that.
"They must be near", he said and we continued to move through the forest.
A little later, I felt a tingling sensation – as if something was watching me. I turned around carefully and a little hesitantly, my steps becoming a little slower –
Everything went fast then: something twined around my waist and jerked me upside. I tried to grab the thing with my bringer and reached for Red Queen behind my back. A sharp blade-like appendage slit through my skin, making me cry out in surprise rather than pain.
Dante shouted something, I heard some demons hissing and heavy thuds as bodies hit the floor.
I kicked the creature successfully and it let me fall. The landing knocked the air out of my lungs but I jumped back onto my feet, rubbing my ribs a little. Seemed like some of them fractured because of my disadvantageous landing on the side. Well, it would heal.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins and I unsheathed Red Queen and launched into battle, revving the engine of the sword. Our enemies were huge spiders of two kinds – the smaller ones were black while the larger ones were green. All of them spun their nets, trying to catch us and hauling out with their sharp razor-like legs.
I watched in fascination when Dante hacked his way through the enemies, wielding the two colorful swords and creating a fire vortex that burned everything in its path. In fact, I was so captivated that I didn't hear the enemies approaching me until it was too late – one of the large spiders tackled me to the ground, its front legs almost stabbing me but I managed to roll out of the way in the last minute. I drew Blue Rose, charging the weapon and shot the demon in the head.
Dante and I won the upper hand quickly thanks to the fire we were using.
But then something strange happened – there were only two spiders left now, both of them seeming a little scared of us after they had watched how we killed their companions and their spawn.
Then there was a noise – a loud clatter, followed by a ghostly silence. No one moved for a minute, neither the leftover enemies nor Dante and me. We all simply stood there, listening. Nothing else happened though. One of the spiders charged forward – but suddenly it was pierced by a huge and sharp spear that appeared out of nowhere.
All of us looked up – and hell broke loose.
It was one of those tentacle demons again, twice as big as the one we encountered just yesterday and it looked straight at Dante.
It took a moment for me to realize that the beast was talking. "Sparda…", it said slowly, its voice deep and strangely distorted – as if a robot was talking, "Tempus ad moriendum."
Dante simply laughed in response and swung the blades around, hitting the beast multiple times.
I swung Red Queen, hauling myself into the air and rushed down again, hitting the enemy straight in its eyes. There was another loud clatter, the beast roared in pain, greenish venom spilling out of its wounds and I dug the blade in deeper, revving the engine and watched with a sick fascination as its skin burned down, practically dripping down like hot wax. I drove Red Queen down further, slashing the beast nearly in half before I grabbed into its insides, tearing out the heart and ignoring the pain that seared my hand.
The beast gave one last cry of pain before collapsing, its tentacles flattering aimlessly and everything turned silent again.
I stared into my palm – there was another pearl which looked the same as the one I ripped out yesterday. I threw it onto the ground and crushed it with my boot before it could absorb itself again.
There was this stench again – this weird demonic smell. Why did these creatures smell that weird? The one yesterday was emitting the same kind of stench but I was too busy with killing it so I didn't pay any attention to it. It made me uneasy that I couldn't identify it. What was it and why did it make me feel so paranoid?
"Whoa kid, you have a kamikaze style of fighting", Dante interrupted my thoughts and ruffled my hair, "But seriously, be careful."
"It's dead so what's the matter?", I asked, trying to shake the eerie feelings off. Now I was convinced the things were after us. It said Dante's name, for God's sake!
"Because you could have died too", he reminded me, "Which would have sucked." He threw one arm around my shoulder and hugged me for a moment – too close. I suppressed the urge to press myself closer to him.
"Let's collect the payment and head back to the office."
After collecting the payment, Dante decided it was time for lunch. He dragged me into a run-down diner, pointing out they had the best strawberry sundaes in the whole city. And sure enough, he ordered a strawberry sundae and I tried my best not to laugh when he dug into his dessert – he looked like a child on Christmas day.
The waitress came back, placing the waffles I ordered in front of me and flashed me a wide smile. I smiled shyly in response but she didn't leave.
Instead, she turned to Dante. "So Dante... care to introduce us?"
"Cindy – Nero, Nero – Cindy", he said curtly and turned his attention back to his sundae.
"Nero...", she repeated and eyed me from top to toe. She had short dark brown hair and brown eyes – underneath one eye, a small star was painted. Her uniform was pink, decorated with orange pinstripes and she wore roller skates.
"What brings such an attractive man like you to Capulet City?", she asked, smiling widely again.
"Business", I replied bluntly and started munching, hoping she would get the hint and leave. She didn't.
"Oh, the same business as Dante?", she continued asking and I became more irritated with every passing second.
"Yeah..."
"So, do you like it here in Capulet?"
"Mmh-hmm...", I hummed in response, my mouth full of waffles. She kept on talking though.
"Where are you from?"
I swallowed the huge bite, glaring at her but she didn't seem to be fazed by that. "I'm from Fortuna."
"Really? Never heard of it... Where is that?"
"Far away... very far away."
"How old are you?"
"I turned twenty last month." Woman, I'm trying to eat! Stop your query dammit. She seemed to think for a little while and I used the opportunity to shove more of the waffles into my mouth.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
I choked on my food at the sudden question and started coughing. Dante was laughing his ass off and Cindy just looked confused.
"I think he's overwhelmed, Cindy", Dante managed to answer while I still had my coughing fit.
"Alright, I guess I see you two soon", she said and rolled off on her roller skates.
I let out an angry huff. "Women..."
"Yeah, she's quite talkative", Dante said, still grinning.
"Hmm...", I hummed. We finished our meals in silence and drove back home. This time, Dante chose the music and my head bobbed up and down to the beat. It was melodic classic rock, the main focus on the solo guitar rather than the vocals. The music was a little too melodic for my taste – I missed shrill guitar sounds and the drums could also be harsher but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
"Nero?", Dante asked suddenly and my eyebrows rose. He called me by my name instead of my nickname...
"Yes?"
"I heard you scream last night, is everything alright?"
Aw shit. "Yeah", I replied a bit too quickly, "Just had a nightmare, nothing serious."
"Do you wanna talk about it?", he asked.
"Not really. It was just a flashback of the night I almost ki – I almost... I..." I trailed off lamely and hoped he wouldn't push the subject further. It was surprising how observant Dante was. I didn't expect him to notice my scream – or that he would care. On the other hand, it had been his idea that I moved in with him so maybe he did care...?
"You can tell me, Nero." Dante's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "I won't judge you, I promise."
"Why do you even care?", I mumbled.
"Well, we're working and living together so I thought you might want to talk about it", he replied.
"It was nothing serious", I repeated, "Just a nightmare." A terrible lie but he seemed to buy it...
"You know, kid, I am a sound sleeper", he said, "There could be an earthquake outside or even the apocalypse – I wouldn't wake up. So if your scream woke me, it must've been something serious. Now tell me."
Well, maybe he didn't buy it. My stubbornness wouldn't let me tell him though. I kept my mouth tightly shut and it was silent in the car for some minutes, except for the music.
"Nero...", Dante said softly then, "Please tell me. I want to help you."
I sighed deeply. "Well... okay." No, no, no! Keep it to yourself, you moron! He will see how sick you are and throw you out! "You won't judge me?", I asked again, asking for reassurance.
"Never."
"Well, about roughly a year ago I visited a town on the mainland", I began hesitantly, "I think I already told you about the things I did last year... My memories are clouded and I don't even know myself what I had done there. All I know is that I wasn't careful when I staggered back to the hotel and ..."
I looked out of the window, searching for words. "I didn't hear the guy and when he approached me. He made short work of it... and I... I..." I trailed off again, unable to explain it further.
By now, we had arrived back at Devil May Cry.
I got out of the car and practically ran to the front door. Dante caught up with me though, catching me before I could hide in my room. His grip on my arm was strong but not painful and he dragged me to the couch, gesturing to me to sit down.
"So you went out clubbing and ended up – "
" – getting raped in a back alley." I completed the sentence and avoided looking into his eyes, fearing the rejection.
"That's not the end of the story though", I continued after a short pause, "I went back to the hotel... and I tried to … – " I took a deep breath – "Commit suicide. I swallowed dozens of sleeping pills, painkillers, whatever I could get, and drank a whole bottle of valium but when I was about to die, my body triggered on its own, bringing me back to life."
Silence followed. I still didn't dare to look at him, afraid that he would be disgusted or that he would pity me. I didn't want to be pitied, especially not by Dante.
But the rejection I feared never came. Instead, Dante reached out and touched my shoulder. I gazed into his eyes – the look he gave me was soft and understanding, not disgusted like I had expected.
"I know that you think that this" – his hand slid down my arm and touched my bringer, brushing against the hide with his thumb – "is the reason for all the things that have happened to you. But that's not true. Don't agonize over the past, Nero. I know that bad things happened to you but you can't change it. Your demonic healing kicked in because you live for a reason."
"I shouldn't be alive." It slipped out before I could stop it and made me feel miserable. At least I wasn't crying this time.
"Don't say things like these", Dante snapped, "Stop to blame yourself for everything and take life as a gift. And most importantly – don't think of yourself as a monster."
He pulled me into a short hug and rubbed my back and once again, he managed to make me feel better. Dante didn't judge me. Dante accepted me. But still, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. Whenever good things happened to me, bad things followed...
Dante wore his dorky smirk again and I couldn't help but smile in response. Don't agonize over the past. Things are going to get better.
Three months passed and my paranoia about the tentacle demons somewhat decreased. Dante and I didn't encounter another one of those and they fortunately seemed to have disappeared. I met new types of enemy during the missions – one of them we constantly came across were called "marionettes" and they reminded me much of scarecrows. Dante said they were like rats and popped up everywhere in Capulet City. Marionettes were a little more exciting to fight since they didn't seem to be as stupid as scarecrows.
Time went by quite quickly. My life somehow settled back into a routine but it wasn't as tiring as before. I made friends with Trish and Lady (much to Dante's displeasure since the girls started to visit more often) and Veronica, the bartender of the "Phoenix" who would drag me to a venue called "The Pit" on a regular basis. "The Pit" was a crossover of a bar and an artist gallery, promoting local artists – which Veronica was and she said she wanted my opinion on all of her pictures. Her style was just the opposite of which I was used to from Kyrie who always had drawn things realistically and detailed – Veronica had a more expressionistic style of painting. Her pictures were edgy, raw and honest. She loved to cake the color onto the canvas, creating shapes by coincidence. And at some point, I suddenly found myself in her studio, dressed in an old lab coat which was already splattered with color. Veronica was next to me, dressed in the same thing and we both faced a huge canvas which was about two meters tall and two meters high.
"What am I supposed to do now?", I asked, my lips curling into a half-smile. Veronica was crazy and had the most twisted ideas I have ever heard.
She placed two buckets of paint in front of us – dark blue and red.
"Whatever you feel like", she replied simply, taking off all of her rings and bend down to take off the lid of the red paint, sticking her hand into the acrylic and started applying it onto the canvas with her palm, spreading it widely.
All the time, I just looked at her wide-eyed. "Why do you want me to participate in that again?", I asked, unsure why I even was here and observed the studio. Everything here was coated with a layer of paint, making it look colorful and chaotic as hell. Somehow, I had the feeling I had been sucked into a psychedelic painting. From above, some plain light bulbs lit up the scene. Being a vampire, Veronica could only work after sunset. There were some buckets and old mugs placed here and there, holding paint brushes of every kind and size.
Veronica turned around and took the bucket of blue paint, opening the lid – and spilled it over my head! "What the fuck are you doing?"
She just laughed and dragged me to the canvas with vampiric strength and speed, practically smashing me onto it.
"This is just perfect!", she giggled and continued to pour the color over me, rubbing me against the canvas and spreading it.
"Hey, hey – stop!", I shouted, trying to break her grip and failing at it.
"Nope", she replied, pressing me close to the canvas again, "You are such an interesting subject to paint but I think simply painting you wouldn't suffice."
I rolled my eyes. Was she even aware of what she was babbling? "So you decided to use me as human paint brush?"
"Exactly."
"You are nuts." Never question artists... or vampires, for that matter.
She simply giggled in response and continued to cover me and the canvas with the acrylic.
Some minutes of torture later, she let go of me and grabbed a flat paint brush, applying more color here and there – I didn't know what she tried to achieve. To me, it looked like smearing but well – she was the artist here, not me.
A little later, the picture was decorated with some layers of color, most of them being my favorite ones: dark blue, red and black.
Veronica took several steps back and looked at the top of the canvas that was still white.
"Neroooo…", she cooed in a sing-sang voice that had me instantly alarmed. She always used that voice when she wanted something.
"What?", I asked back.
"I can't reach the top of the canvas", she said and gave me another bucket of paint, "Be a darling and splatter color all over it." She gestured to my devil bringer.
Reluctantly, I did how I was told and she ordered me around for an hour until she was finally satisfied.
I stared at my bringer after that, fascinated how I could actually create something beautiful with it for once instead of killing things.
"So, what do you think?", she asked then.
I focused on the piece of art again. "Well…", I started slowly. I didn't know what to say without insulting her. "To be honest, I can't really discern anything there. But hey, the thing there – " I gestured to the lower right corner of the picture – "looks a little like my silhouette."
She giggled a little. "That's okay, Nero", she replied, "Take a step back."
I raised a brow and slowly stepped back a little, doubting that it would change a thing but gaped in awe at the picture.
Somehow she managed to paint me. It was portrait of me, reminding me a little of pop art pictures – just more roughly and messy due to the irregular application of color. It was beyond me how she did that when all she was doing was using me as a brush (and that none too gently, by the way). Also, didn't I just cover the whole top section with paint? The color was still running down, leaving thin rivulets in their wake that seemed to be perfectly placed.
Veronica looked at the picture again. "I think we need a break. Come on."
We settled down in her small apartment which was located below the studio. She offered me some tea and cookies while she just snatched a blood pack out of her fridge for herself.
I raised an eyebrow at that.
"Lucky you, you are still able to eat", she said, sulking a little and sucking at the straw of the pack while I just shook my head.
We just sat there for a while until she began to speak again. "How is Dante?"
"Fine, I guess", I replied.
She hummed a little. "When will you tell him?"
I choked on my tea. "Wh-wh-what do y-you mean?", I sputtered.
"You like him, he seems to like you – what's the problem?", she asked, laughing as I coughed.
"It's not that easy", I replied after a while.
She just shrugged. "I don't think that you have anything to lose", she said and looked straight into my eyes.
"Well, I think so", I countered and looked out of the window. It was dark outside but the street was lit up as always in the busy city. "I don't want to lose Dante as a friend."
"You should take a risk", she suggested but I brushed her off. Women and their intuition. I already had this talk with Trish and Lady as well. How did they know that I was in love with Dante?
I thanked Veronica for the tea and drove back to the devil hunting office.
Occasionally, Dante and I went out to clubs and concerts but in those three months nothing else had happened between us. He didn't approach me again and I realized that I've fallen for him completely. I enjoyed his company, no matter what we did – whether it was fighting together on missions or talking or just spending time together at the office.
Dante had shown me some of his combat techniques and trained me in wielding the many devil arms he possessed. The "lesson" where he showed me how to handle Lucifer had been burned into my memories: at first, I failed terribly at throwing the swords. Dante had put up some targets that I was supposed to hit but somehow, my shots had a left-hand twist and I missed all the targets by a hair's breadth – which pissed me off. Angrily, I started to throw the spears blindly, not caring what or who I hit.
"Whoa, kid, watch it", Dante laughed and cautiously stepped closer. "Your throwing technique is perfect but your posture is wrong. You need to shift your weight a little."
I sucked in a breath when he laid his hands on my hips and pressed our bodies together.
"This is not a traditional weapon", he said, his head next to my ear, "Take it easy and relax. Your knees have to be soft and not locked straight."
My knees were buckling anyway. It felt so sensual to be so close to him. The moves he showed me didn't seem like combat moves at all – they seemed like dance moves.
He produced one of the spectral swords from Lucifer's wings and pushed its handle into my hand.
"Then you set up the shot", he whispered in a slightly husky voice, "Reach out in a wide circle and throw it."
He let go of me and I shook off the pleasurable tingle that had rippled its way down my spine, concentrating on the sword in my hand. Slowly, I followed his instructions – and watched as the sword flew through the air, hitting the target dead-on.
"See?", Dante said and smirked.
I scratched my nose in response. "Yeah..."
Sometimes, we also made music together – I was playing the drums while Dante played the guitar. It was very hard for me to focus on the rhythm during our jam sessions though – Dante's way of playing distracted me too much. I was fascinated with his skills. Actually, watching him play nearly made me drool: the way his nimble fingers slid over the neck of the guitar, the way he could shred one chord after another, pick the strings the next second and create a sharply accentuated rhythm before playing on the highest range of the guitar, making it emit shrill sounds – as if the instrument was crying. Then he would retreat to play simple melodies, the notes floating like a river and slowly fading out. I couldn't help but imagine those skilled fingers on me, roaming over my body – and it was really uncomfortable to play the drums with a raging hard-on.
When Dante suggested teaching me in playing the guitar, I refused. I was a little afraid that I would break the strings each time I touched them with my bringer. The probability that I broke something when I played the drums was lower too, so I just stuck to that. Besides, it really was fun.
When I was younger, my foster parents had forced me to take piano lessons. Everyone in Fortuna played an instrument after all, it was a part of the education there. Furthermore, Kyrie and Credo – who played the violin and the cello – needed an accompanist. And that became my job then. Later, when Kyrie started taking singing lessons, I was the one to practice with her when she couldn't practice with the organist at the church. But after my arm had changed I didn't even dare to touch the keys, afraid of myself. I had to conceal my bringer anyway back then. Well, that was in the past and the memories held no purpose anymore...
I remember that it had been a slow day at the office and Dante and I tried to occupy ourselves by playing video games. But somehow, that had become boring after some hours, too. I had asked him to tell me something about him, about his past. I didn't even think that he would agree to that – but surprisingly he did.
He told me about his father – Sparda. About the rebellion he led in the underworld. Of course, I already knew the story since they wouldn't stop preaching of Sparda back then in Fortuna. Hearing it from Dante himself had been much more interesting though. He also told me about his mother Eva and his twin brother Vergil.
"Vergil and I were home-schooled by our parents", Dante had said, "Our father showed us how to wield the sword and later firing guns too. He also was the one who taught us Latin. Our mother taught us all the rest." He chuckled lowly. "Not like Vergil needed it. He seemed to know everything, even when we were children."
I was a little surprised that he entrusted me with things like these – but then again, I had told him of my miserable last year and my suicide attempt. It didn't really matter to me why I felt that I could trust Dante, it didn't matter why I felt so safe with him. I just did and tried not to question myself every damn minute.
"People almost didn't believe we were twins", Dante continued, "We did look the same – well, we were identical twins after all – but our personalities couldn't have been more different. Vergil was always quiet and calculating. Every move he made had an eerie elegance to it, he never left anything to chance. Me on the other hand... I think my parents thought that I had ADHD as kid."
I burst out laughing at that. "Are you serious?"
"Yes", he replied, laughing himself, "Well, I was never sitting still and always the one who drew danger to himself like moths to the flame. Vergil always had to save my ass and drag me back home. Back then, he thought he was responsible for me, being two minutes older and such."
He grinned shortly and leaned back into the couch of the office where we had been sitting.
"We lived in a mansion", Dante continued, "My father had his own private library, filled with loads of books that were probably hundreds of years old. He always sat there, reading and listening to classical records on an antique gramophone. I think I was the only family member that didn't like opera music and I would keep groaning about how boring it was." He laughed again shortly. "We had a garden, too – Vergil and I spent much of our time there. He used his time to perfect his fighting style while I – ", he paused and smirked widely, – "Well, I guess I just spent my time annoying the hell out of him."
I couldn't quite picture it – Dante, his twin brother and their parents living in a mansion. Seeing him now made it sound unreal. And I felt sorry for him because I knew that he was the only family member of the Sparda family that was still alive.
"When Vergil and I turned sixteen, dad was gone suddenly", Dante carried on, "He said to us that there was something going on in the demon world but didn't explain it further. We didn't see him for days and mom was scared to death. She was a brave woman and never showed her fear in front of Vergil and me but we knew something had gone terribly wrong."
He paused shortly and his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"Dad was killed. Minions of Mundus had murdered him and now were attacking us", he continued then, "They killed our mother too. She sacrificed herself for us and Vergil and I were separated. I don't know how I managed to get out of the burning house – all I knew was that I had Rebellion – " He pointed onto his broadsword that was attached to the weapon wall – "And that Vergil was gone. I was walking through the city aimlessly when I saw a guy that was attacked by demons and saved him. His name was Enzo and he was the one to provide me my first job, taking me in into his devil hunting office. It was only two years later that I realized that he was an asshole and a coward, so I decided to open my own office. And that's it."
We both fell silent for a minute and I thought about the things he just told me. It was incredible that Dante had grown up so sheltered and then lost everything in the blink of an eye. I had always thought that my life was miserable because I didn't know my parents and because they abandoned me but what had happened to him was much worse, wasn't it?
"I'm sorry", I mumbled quietly.
"What?", he asked, seeming a bit confused, "Why?"
"Well, you are the only one that is left of your family and I didn't want to bring that up and –"
He silenced me by crushing me in a tight bear hug, ruffling my hair afterwards. I inhaled his scent – an alluring mix of his cologne, freshly cut grass, gun powder and strawberries. Nothing needed to be spoken in this moment.
My heart clenched in my chest at that memory. Somehow, I felt special because he told me about his life but at the same time I tried to keep my emotions at bay and didn't even allow the spark of hope that we could be more than friends to enlighten.
There was no use of denying it – I wanted Dante, I craved for him and found myself silly for admitting it.
It must be female intuition because Lady and Trish knew about my craving for him, even when I didn't say a word. I warmed up to them a little, even after they gave me a shock the first time I met them. It was actually fun to go on missions with the girls, although it was much more chaotic than with Dante. When I was on a mission with Dante, everything worked smoothly. With Lady and Trish on the other hand... well, there was a lot of shouting involved. The consequence of that was I couldn't concentrate that well – and I almost shot Lady once instead of the demon that she was wrestling at that time. When Trish scolded me because of that, she had learned that I didn't like it when people touched my bringer. And unfortunately, she had learned it the hard way. I had thrown her into a wall with a light flick of my demonic arm (accidentally, of course!) and she chased me back the whole way to the car, throwing lightning at me, complaining that she broke off one of her manicured nails because of the impact with the wall. Lady had laughed her ass off meanwhile, by the way. I really preferred going on missions alone or with Dante.
"Gosh, Nero", Lady had hissed once while we were playing pool, smacking her stick onto the table angrily which made me and Trish jump. Dante had been out on a mission at that time.
"What?", I asked cautiously, not wanting to anger her more.
"Grow a pair and tell Dante."
"What?", I repeated again. How did she come up with this now?
"You had this 'far-away' look on your face again", she explained, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "This is making you restless. Just tell him. Maybe it won't turn out as bad as you think."
Maybe the girls were right and I should finally tell him about my feelings but I was afraid. I was afraid that his feelings weren't mutual, that he would throw me out… I didn't feel like I deserved him anyway, being the broken existence that I was.
On the bright side, the nightmare didn't return even though my sleep was uneasy. I woke up in the middle of the night many times and I didn't know why. It wasn't like I was uncomfortable here, far from it.
The only thing I could say for sure was that I was confused. Confused about my own feelings for Dante and the voices in my head – while one wanted me to tell Dante my feelings, the more rational side of my brain told me not to tell him. I was happy here and I didn't want to spoil it.
But what did Dante think? The good thing about the old man was that he always spoke the truth – but unfortunately, he didn't really say a lot. Great, here I was again – overthinking.
By now, I was in front of the double doors of Devil May Cry – home.
After settling down there, I cleaned the entire office. It was a 'thank you' for Dante for letting me live there – and I couldn't stand the dirt and dust that was lingering everywhere. Dante really was a lazy ass and never lifted a finger to help me keeping things clean but I felt a little uncomfortable between all the stacks of old empty pizza boxes and trash. I remembered how amazed Dante had looked when he came back into the now clean office... he probably thought he had taken the wrong door.
I stepped through the double doors, finding the office empty. Maybe Dante was out on a mission. I hung my coat and climbed the stairs. Time for a shower, after all my hair was still caked in paint from Veronica's earlier assault.
I climbed the stairs to the bathroom, turning on the tabs of the shower and slipping out of my clothes while I waited for the water to warm up.
A little later, I found myself stroking my arousal under the warm spray of the water, moaning Dante's name and imagining his hands all over me while he fucked my brains out. I found myself in this position a little too often lately. I wanted these fantasies to become reality so badly, wished that it were Dante's fingers on my erection that jerked me off while his other hand prodded my entrance, stretching me for what was to come. I pictured his lips on mine, wondered how they would feel against my own, what he would taste like. Then, he would push me up against the wall and I would wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me as he slid inside me, moaning out my name in his velvety baritone voice –
My breath hitched in my throat as I came and I slumped back against the tiled shower wall.
Man up and tell him, Nero. What could be the worst thing to happen?
My brain instantly found an answer to that, showing me the most horrible worst case scenarios it could come up with. I groaned in anger, hitting the shower wall lightly in frustration.
I didn't know what to do.