Dante woke up in a cold sweat. He rolled out of bed and struggled quickly into his clothes, bursting out of the room and straight into the lobby. His red trench-coat moved with the breeze as he ran outside. Without changing his pace, he turned to the right and then took a left, coming to stand in front of a building that was up in flames.
As suddenly as it started…it all stopped. The flames seemed to disappear back in the building and then there was no more smoke. Dante frowned. This town was getting weirder and weirder…and he didn't like one of the signals he as getting from inside that building. The other though…that felt so much more familiar. Slowly, he walked towards the building and up several flights of stairs. He came to a locked door. Acting on impulse, he drew out his sword.
Ashes blew out at him as the door crashed down. Dante watched them scatter before he walked into the charred mess of the room. There was no sign of life. Everything was blackened by the fires and by the smoke. Save for one thing. An old bundle of clothes lay on the floor. Dante walked up to them and was astonished to see a young boy amongst the clothes. He gently rolled him over onto his back. The first thing he noticed was the blood that still ran down his body. The second thing he noted was his face. He gasped. His face was a bloody mess. It didn't look like the face of a boy at all. Dante tried to clear away some of the dried blood but found instead that he was covered in bruises. The boy's eyes flickered open and rested on Dante as he became aware that he was being cradled in his lap. His eyes filled up with tears.
'I'm…I'm a bad boy…' Dante watched in dismay as he began to weep uncontrollably. He frowned as he began to recognize him.
'Arson?' Arson looked up at him as though dazed but then fainted through loss of blood. Dante shrugged out of his trench-coat and wrapped him in it. He was not going to take him to the hospital. Questions would be raised and he couldn't handle that at the moment. Besides…if he stayed here any longer, that demon killing thing might come after him and the boy. And Arson was somehow related to him. He didn't want to risk his life by staying here any longer than he needed to. He hugged Arson close to him, feeling suddenly paternal towards him. He had no idea how old he was. He might have been seven but he looked about five. He was so little, and so weak. He quickly got into his car, remembered that he had no more petrol and cursed. Arson started and woke up. His eyes met with Dante's for a second before they closed again.
'Don't die on me, kid,' muttered Dante. There was no response but Arson coughed weakly. Dante could feel his blood soaking through his coat. He quickly took off one of his gloves and lifted the hood of his car. He focused and shut his eyes, his face grim. The car gave a huge rumble and then spurted back into life as Dante released some of his thunderous energy into it. He knew that what he had done was risky; he might have electrocuted himself. But it would just have to do. He didn't have the time, and Arson didn't have the strength to wait in a queue for petrol.
Dante slammed the door of his car shut and drove off, tires screeching. Arson made no sound. He watched through a grey haze as trees zoomed past the window. He was outside…outside? He tried to get up but then moaned in pain as his numbed body refused to obey his orders. Dante quickly looked back at him and patted him on the head.
'Just rest. Don't try to move just yet.' Arson obeyed silently. Dante dug into his pocket and reached back, placing a Devil Star and a yellow orb by his side. Arson looked at them wearily.
'But…these are…you're a demon?' Dante nodded. Arson smiled crookedly at this point. 'So I'm not alone after all.' He shivered violently and closed his eyes. Dante turned the heating on, hoping that that would help Arson. He hated to admit it, but he was concerned for him. Maybe it was because of guilt. He still remembered the day he had called him a curse…Arson had died that day for him. He had never repaid the favour. But perhaps now it would be his chance to redeem himself.
Dante's mind wandered back several years. He smiled as he remembered the first time Arson, as a teenager had walked into Devil May Cry. They had still been in America. But now this move that he had made with Trish was possibly the best thing he had ever done for the business. Arson hadn't known that it was because of him that they had moved. Arson had led them to England in the past, and Trish had begged Dante to move here. At length, Dante had agreed, at first reluctantly but then gradually warming up to the idea.
Two hours later, they pulled up at Devil May Cry. Dante kicked the door open, much to the disgust of Trish. However, as soon as she saw the expression on his face, she quietened and looked at the boy curiously. She took him from Dante and sat down on the couch with him.
'Dante…is this…?' Dante nodded once, his face serious. Trish gently tilted Arson's head back and grimaced as she saw the dark ugly bruises on his neck.
'No wonder why he can't breathe properly.' Trish looked up at Dante, tears in her eyes.
'Who could possibly do this to a child?' Dante shrugged.
'I don't know…I think we'll find out sooner or later. Hopefully later.' Trish looked at him quickly and frowned.
'You're tense.' Dante explained about his findings and about the unmarked body. Trish went pale faced as she listened. None of them noticed that Arson had opened his eyes. He began to sob brokenly.
'I know what it is…I know who it is…' he said miserably. 'It's her!'
'Her?'
'M-mother…she hates me…and she hates us all…and…she'd go out at nights. She'd kill. I could smell the blood on her hands.' Dante frowned and knelt down in front of him, so then his face was level with the boy's. He watched as Arson's little hands balled up into fists. He was as scared as a rabbit caught in a trap.
'Is she the one who did this to you?' Arson nodded, tears running down his face.
'But I deserved it…I deserved everything! I'm a curse and a bad boy!' Trish hugged him close. Arson sobbed against her shoulder, terrified. 'I tried to help myself…but I hurt her…I did a bad thing…I made that fire…'
'Arson, it's over.' Dante tried to calm him but Arson only shook his head hysterically.
'It's not! You don't understand! You can't win against her! No one can! She's out there…somewhere!' He fell to coughing wildly. Dante sighed wearily as Arson grew still. Trish shook her head dumbly, shock robbing her of all speech. At last, she spoke.
'How could a mother do that to her own child?' Dante snorted and took Arson from her. He felt as light as a feather.
'I don't know…and it's wrong. But we've got to take care of the most important things right now.' He laid Arson down on the table and gently cut away his blood soaked top. Trish nodded silently and got up to help.
As darkness fell, the two were still working. Trish finally stepped back. Dante felt Arson's forehead gently and frowned.
'What now?'
'We wait.' Trish yawned. Dante looked at the time.
'You'd better go to sleep.'
'What about you?' Dante only smiled distantly. Trish knew then that Dante had talked enough for the day. She retired to her bed, her thoughts spinning around wildly, coming to land on one question.
Who could find the heart to do this to a kid?