This is a much more somber and melancholic one shot. I cannot for the life recall what made me write it, except the thought of the creatures and people Dante killed in his life. A lot of them are evil douche bags who need to be taken down, but I couldn't help but think on 'those left behind'.

So yeah, no real explanation for this one shot. Just hopefully enjoy!

Snow

He didn't know what brought him to this place. He wanted to think that this was all a dream and he'd soon wake up. The air, the dark sky above, and the snow. It all looked ethereal, like everything around was giving off a heavenly glow. He wasn't meant to come this far you see, but something was calling. No, someone...

After all he was only meant to come to this tower and seek out his intended target. One of many that came and went so often he could hardly remember the last by the next. Dante had killed his target, mission complete. Then why was he searching? What was this feeling in the pit of his stomach? It brought up feelings long forgotten. Loneliness and such sadness he was almost startled to find his hand clutching at his chest.

A song played on the breeze that he'd never heard before, and it was setting the mood for this growing anxiety within him. I'm not moving fast enough, it could already be too late. For what though he had to keep asking himself. He pressed on through corridors, through rooms which all were empty. He climbed steps with an urgency he hardly recognized and it was suffocating him. Not only was he panicking, but in the back of his mind he was very aware he might've been walking into a trap. One set for him that had this affect on him, and yet he found himself not caring at all.

Before he knew it he had come to the final door, which as he touched the doorknob he felt with growing anticipation was his final destination. With a trembling hand he touched it and turned, letting the door open slowly. At first he had to shield his eyes as they adjusted from the darkness of the tower to the sudden glow before him.

He stepped one foot beyond the door and heard the soft crunch under his foot. He looked down and noticed snow. He looked up and stared wide eyed at the out of season snow that fell gently around him. It barely made a sound, and no harsh wind disturbed it at all. It almost seemed to muffle the sounds normally heard in the outdoors, and it was soothing to see as it hit his face and hands. It had been years since he'd seen a good snowfall like this, and so he chanced sticking his tongue out to catch a flake. It melted seemingly before it even touched his tongue, but he smirked just the same and swallowed the pure drop of water.

With his eyes focused he turned to look around the roof and yet again stood in awe of what he saw. The first thing that caught his attention was a large tree somehow sprouting effortlessly from the rooftop. The branches billowed outward, and yet the ground beneath it was still covered in snow. Every leaf was actually green, as if it did not feel the effects of the snow at all. He also noted that it wasn't cold up here either. So where was the snow coming from?

The second thing he noticed he felt before he actually saw. The feeling of unease and sadness had not yet left him, but it tamed once the door had closed behind him. Now though he could feel someone watching him, and yet he saw no one. He walked closer to the tree to examine it and when he did that is when he noticed something odd.

Near the foot of the tree, almost blending perfectly with the white snow was a girl. At first glance you wouldn't have been able to tell because her knee long hair covered her like a cloak. She had not moved an inch until he approached her, and even then all he had seen was the blackness of one pupil poke out from behind the curtain of white hair hiding her face.

On instinct he pulled out his guns and aimed them at her, ready to shoot her leg first and then her head if needed. He wasn't the type to kill if he didn't need to. He also was acutely aware that he did not feel threatened by her. In fact, he got the impression she was more likely afraid of him.

As she moved closer to conceal herself in the shadow of the tree Dante heard a small rattle of metal. Dragging behind the girl was a long silver chain that disappeared into the long mass of her white hair. She sat sideways, curling against the tree as if it was her mother's skirts in the face of something scary, and Dante felt pity for her. He was beginning to wonder if she was the one who had called him up here.

"You OK?" He asked loud enough for her to hear. She did not reply, only continued to lean against the tree. Dante sighed. "Did you call me up here?" He tried again, and again got no reply.

He noticed her black orbs were focused on his guns, not him. He hesitated before putting them away.

"Look, no weapons," he offered towards her. He wasn't 100 percent sure what exactly she was because he did not know of any creature with eyes like that. They were ink spots on her pale face, almost like a doll staring blankly. Despite this though those strange eyes could give way to emotions felt by her. At his attempt she seemed to ease slightly. "What are you doing here?"

Rather than answer him she let a long arm come out from the folds of her hair to reveal the first of many chains binding her to the tree. He felt a pang of sympathy, because she resembled a cowering animal that had been abused, yet she had no bruises or any evidence of that being the case. She wasn't showing him her chains, but pointing back towards the doorway.

"I don't understand you," he said simply. "Can you speak?"

When this didn't work she placed a hand out as if reaching for him. Dante eyed her but took a few steps forward and stretched out his own hand. The instant contact was made he fell to his knees in the snow, his mind going blank as new information was crammed in.

It was his target. He had been Patrick Ayres, a half-breed with a greedy streak to make even the highest syndicate boss bow at his feet. He had been ruthless, killed many in his pursuit, and Dante had been sent in to assassinate him and end his rule of tyranny.

Now though he was seeing Ayres again, but from the eyes of the creature before him. A man who cradled her beneath this tree for hours, who had rescued her from a cruel fate and a life of servitude. Someone who had found the way to keep her alive even when she was so close to a painful death.

A death pact you see...

It was her voice, inside of his head. He heard it clearly as a bell, and yet it seemed only a soft whisper.

I am bound to this tree so I may take strength from it and live, and from he who saved me.

He could see the image of Ayres holding her under the tree as a soft glow surrounded them. The man who had killed countless without mercy... The private Ayres who could love.

"Stop." Dante breathed. He didn't want to see this, not when he had just moments ago killed this same man. The girl let go of him as if she had suddenly been burned, but it was much worse. She had heard his thoughts and knew what he had done...