Lightning Crashes
By Star Crossed Vigilante
It was nice, this Dark Place. There were no walls and there was no floor, and the blackness stretched on forever, but it was still nice. It was a relief from the pain, this empty place, so devoid of light and feeling.
But, then again, it was boring. It was shape-less and monotone and utterly without feature.
Though my feet touched nothing, I stood upright in the center of the blackness. Or was I upside down? I couldn't tell. I had a body, strangely enough, and it was dressed in my hiking outfit. I could see it, and could touch my own arm with my fingers, but felt no residual pain from the lightning strike.
Wait… lightning strike? What did that mean? I couldn't remember.
What had I been thinking about?
Oh, right, boredom. I was bored. That was it. I turned in a slow circle, peering into the darkness, but found nothing of interest. Then I took a few steps forward, found nothing, and walked in another direction.
For a time, I roamed. My footsteps filled the void. Then I was bored again.
I sat down on the ground-that-was-not-ground and put my head between my knees.
What do people do when they're bored? I wondered. Nikky (but wait, what is a 'Nikky?' I can't remember…) always played video games.
I pictured a TV in my head: a wide screened monitor, crystal clear picture, sharp sound. When I looked up after a moment of intense concentration, a TV was resting idly before me.
I smiled, though for some distant reason the fact that a TV was there felt odd. I banished the feeling with little difficulty. Everything made senses in this void, no matter how strange. Then I pictured a sleek black PS2 slim, all hooked up to the TV.
And it was.
Feeling triumphant, I strode forward and realized that I had no controller. After a moment, a chord less model appeared atop the television.
A chair, I thought, and there was a chair. A table, and there was a table. A drink, and there was an iced can of soda on the tabletop.
I picked up the controller and sat in the chair, rested my elbows on the table and took a swig of soda. It was root beer, my favorite. I smiled blandly, then turned on the PS2.
The screen filled with color; the speakers with sound. The intro to Devil May Cry 3 began to play.
I frowned. Why this game? I don't like this game. I like Final Fantasy better, and Psychonauts, and a whole host of others. This one is Nikky's.
Wait…'Nikky?' What is 'Nikky?' I couldn't remember, which felt odd, but not for long. Despite my qualms, I let the odd game selection and unknown word slide. This place was Zen. I could work with it.
An image of two men with identical features and different swords filled the screen, and the sounds of their fighting filled my ears. A woman narrated above the din of battle, and I pressed the start button on the controller to skip the cut scene.
I didn't want to watch. I wanted to play.
The mission select screen appeared, but nothing was unlocked besides the first mission on Normal Mode.
I frowned and willed Easy Mode into being, but nothing happened.
"Oh well," I said. My voice sounded muffled within the darkness. I shivered and selected Mission 1.
I picked Swordmaster Style. No alternate weapons were available for use, so I had to stick with Ebony & Ivory for firearms, and Rebellion for my lone Devilarm.
Then I started the mission.
A phone rang. A man exited the shower, kicked over a chair, and answered the phone. He tossed it into the cradle after a moment, said a few words to himself, and ate pizza.
The cut scene went on per usual. I knew it by heart. I had played this Mission, the easiest of them all, many a time in order to rack up practice for the dreaded Mission 18.
Then the cut scene was over, and I had control of Dante.
I propelled the shirtless man across the room and struck the first of the many Pride demons who would attack me this Mission. As I played, the screen began to grow. It slid up and it slid out to fill the space in front of me. Dante became life size; a grown man dancing with a demon. Then the picture changed. As I mashed buttons and slew demons, the image onscreen became sharper and clearer, more life like. The graphics fleshed out and grew more real.
I smiled. This was good. All of this was good. As I slew what I knew would be the last demon to attack—a Lust—my smile turned into a grin. This was such fun.
"I probably earned myself and 'A' ranking," I said happily. My voice was thin in the gloom of the Dark Place. Hoping to see my score rather quickly, I let Dante stand in the middle of the room onscreen as I waited for the Mission Ranking display to appear. The battle music faded from the background, but Dante didn't disappear. Instead, he stood silently, back to the screen.
"A secret cut scene?" I wondered aloud. Eagerly I leaned forward, eyes wide and ears open.
Another moment passed.
Dante's head pivoted around, and one blue, blue eye seemed to stare straight into the Dark Place.
Or, more specifically, straight at me.
I froze—utterly shocked—but then Dante spoke and the feeling was replaced with wonder.
"Who the hell are you?"
A/N: Trippy place, that Dark Room. Review.Devil May Cry © Capcom