Limbo
Tony Redgrave was hunting a devil tonight.
A little hobby of his, nothing crazy. Took him everywhere across the world so he got to see plenty of places.
What? Devils aren't real? Well what do you call sickness, trauma, mental scars? Devils exist in all forms, don't forget it. That doesn't mean everything bad in life is the result of a devil but...
A whole lot of it was.
And his job was to kill them for that exact reason, and for more personal reasons of course. But that's all you need to know, devil killing's all he's good at.
Which led him to a small bar on the outskirts of the crème de la crème, the outer shell of course wasn't so pretty.
'At least the booze is good.'
Dry. Though cold. The night in the arid badlands was colder than anywhere else in the city, too cold for a man of his esteem. Too empty… Slow. With the nomads at least he could get some target practice in, but no nomads would be this close to Night City unless on a business trip. Thankfully, he had alcohol to warm himself up.
Cheeks burning a bright red, he swishes the alcohol in his drink back and forth, heavily tanned face reflecting in the glass. A shining white mane covered his crystal blue eyes, the most mundane thing about him actually. His skin didn't have the typical tech-lines associated with the city, nor was the hair on his body a body cosmetic. He wore a red jacket with a skull on the back and was completely shirtless underneath, a long briefcase next to him on a stool.
The man, wobbling, gestured to the barkeep, "Hey Rocky~, another one, please." He said, giggling.
The barkeep was a short and thin man dressed in a rolled up short and an apron, kept well despite it all and the nonsense he faced daily, rubbing the glasses late after happy hour was his form of therapy. "Another one? Shit choom, you are incredible, Tony was it?" The so-called Tony leaned over the bar top.
"Correctamundo~" He said, a glint of competition in his eyes. "Say, you think I could beat top scorer?" He looked towards the barkeep with cocky written all over his face.
The barkeep didn't look up from his glasses, "You can string two words together, still… 68 is a tough number to beat, kid." He shook his head and placed down the glass only to grab another.
Tony shrugged, "What can I say, I'm… Exceptional." The barkeep then grabbed him his next drink, placing it on the top and returning to his work.
"We'll see about that choom." He replied simply.
Tony began to chug, feeling the cold fall down his throat only to warm his stomach further. He glanced towards the clock, 12:34.
He groaned inwardly and slammed the glass down onto the top, propping up his head with his elbow against it. "Talk about a waste of my time… No women, nobody to play darts with, gah!" Tony took another drink.
Wiping his lips, he turns and points at the barkeep. "What time do you say he shows up again?"
The man rolled his eyes, "Near closing choom, don't know why you're bothering, no-chrome like you ain't got much on a guy like him." Tony merely giggled at that, taking another drink.
"What did I say, I'm exceptional… Choom." He said, drawing a sigh from the barkeep.
He inspected the glass he's holding, "You aren't from around here, are you?" In the reflection, he can see Tony spin on the stool attached to the bar.
"Nope, but I'm sure I'll fit right in. I'm the real life of the party, y'know what I'm saying?" The barkeep snorted in response.
"Sure thing kid, just get your business over and done with." He nods, sobering up a little.
After a couple of more minutes waiting, the door finally opens.
Or rather was blasted off its hinges by a man flying through.
Tumbling against the ground, Tony reached for his mug only for the man to crash against the bar with a resounding crack, shooting his drink into the air along with the contents of his mug. He watched it soar with a sorrowful expression, reaching up to grab the mug and carefully guide it in order to catch all of the liquid. He smiles after accomplishing this, setting the drink down and admiring his handy work.
The man at his feet is ruining the mood however, scrambling around and trying to latch onto anything. "C-c-cyber P-psycho!" He managed to cry out, grabbing onto Tony's legs with one hand while holding onto a package with another.
He merely kicks the man away casually, picking up his suitcase. "Alright, time for papa to go to work!"
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three bullets impact the suitcase, falling to the ground harmlessly as Tony lowered it only to raise it again when the Cyber-Psycho aims at him again, repeating the process a few more times until he runs out of bullets. "Haha, limited ammo sucks huh?"
The man ahead of him is no man at all, rather… A Cyber-Psycho, and a man possessed. Tony shrugged, "So, gonna show me your true form?" He asked with a dangerous smile, "Or do I need to beat it out of ya?"
Standing ahead of him is a giant of a man, lines of cybernetic implants running all down his body, he lacked eyes and a conventional face. Standing a few CM taller, his arms are almost as large as his torso. Shaking, his fingers reach towards Tony. Probably a former doped up Chrome head, Cyber-Psychosis was inevitable.
The Cyber-Psycho growled, static dancing between his visor "I am… The s-strongest." His visor lowered towards the shaking man next to Tony, eying the package.
"Need… More… Chrome." Tony sighed at this, glancing back towards the barkeep who is relatively unfazed.
"Sorry about this old man, but duty calls." The suitcase in his hand was almost as long as he is tall. Tony shook his head and shrugged, walking towards the chromed psycho and blowing a strand of white hair out of his face.
Tony noticed the steam coming from his cybernetic arms. He nods, "Oh, I get it-" Touching the ground behind him with the top of his head, he watches as the metallic fist flies right over him, impacting against the bar behind him.
"Shit choom, I knew he was getting bad but-" Tony handspring' into the air, landing against the bar top and propping himself up; taking a drink from his mug.
He then eyed the barkeep, who was shaking. "Listen, just know, and I hope you know, I'm not liable for any of this." He raised his suitcase and blocked another fist from the chromed psycho, the barkeep can only nod dumbly.
Tony grinned at the man, shutting his eyes. "Nice!" He then turns his gaze towards his opponent, "Alright! This party's getting crazy, let's rock!"
Silence.
Tony looked offended, turning around. "Hey what's the big idea, play some music on that old timer jukebox!" The nerve of that guy, ruining his timing like that-
A fist imprinted itself against his face, flattening him against the wall, an audible crack reverberating. Tony slid down into the bar pit with dozens of liters of alcohol drenching him from head to toe, ass raised in the air, he reached his hand out towards the barkeep.
Shaking, the barkeep didn't take his hand. Tony gestured again, "Help me up won't ya?"
He eyed the approaching Cyber-Psycho, walking as if trying to balance on a beam. His fists steaming, heating. The barkeep quickly helped the merc up, lousy merk as he was.
Dusting himself off, Tony glared at the chromed psycho. "I don't appreciate sucker punches, let's see how that chrome can stand up against real steel!" He flipped over the counter, grabbing his suitcase and blocking another fist with it. This time, the suitcase flies open.
Glimmering in the air, the contents of the case twirls right into its owner's hold on his back, a greatsword with devilish engraving, a skull on each side of the hilt, it was longer than some men were tall.
Smirking, the jukebox finally activated. Tony began to laugh merrily, "Silver hand?! Good taste. Perfect." He placed the sword over his shoulder, watching as the chromed up freak reached for the package on the ground, ignoring him.
Tony glared at the cyber psycho, raising his leg high into the air and bringing it down, smashing the chromed freak into the wooden floor, splintering it. He tilted his head as the freak's arms began to steam again, but before they can, a dozen cuts of steel slice through the air faster than the eye can see, severing his arms and causing sparks to pepper the air.
Holding the Rebellion out towards the downed cyber psycho, Dante smirked as the barkeep yelled behind him. "What the hell? Did you just crack my floor with no enhancements?" The barkeep cried out in disbelief.
Tony only smirked, kicking the Cyber-Psycho onto his back and shoving his sword deeply into the wood, inches away from the visored psycho. "Natural enhancements are much better pal, trust me."
Placing a boot against the psycho's chest, he reaches behind himself and pulls out a classic colt.45 with engravings and a dark pallet. Pressing it against his forehead, Tony glared at him. "So, why don't you show us your true form already, or I can kill your host right now and track you down when you try this again." The slobbering psycho has no response for a second, his visor unfocused, static jumping over his body.
Tony pressed the black gun harder against his head, "My girls don't like to be kept waiting, freak. Ebony here especially." He pulled the trigger just a hair, ebony preparing to fire.
The psycho stopped shaking suddenly, the static in his visor disappearing, his chapped lips curl into a grin. "You are a sharp one, Dante."
Dante frowned, "You know me? Sheesh, word spreads fast I guess." Sighing, he took a few steps back, holstering ebony and ripping Rebellion from the floor.
The psycho began to twist and bend, the lines between his skin bursting apart and revealing the red sinew and muscle fibers underneath, horns jetted from his body each asymmetrical; the former human is no longer, replaced by a heap of flesh and cybernetic parts on legs.
When it spoke, it spoke through several overlapping voices. "Every demon this side of the Rockys know you, Dante. Hehe." That actually made him smile, way to boost his ego.
Flattered, he propped the Rebellion on his shoulder and began towards the demon once more. "Alright alright, so you know just how screwed you are then. Might as well save me the trouble and kill yourself." He wanted to fight in reality, but demoralizing your opponent was the first step.
The demon growled, "How cocky, I've absorbed dozens of humans into my body mass, and this callous mortal is no different, you think you can stand up to me, filth?" Several pairs of eyes grew over the metallic visor, wires jutting out of them.
Dante watched as the demon grew more and more deformed, his eyes beginning to droop. He checked the clock. "Hmm.. Yeah, give me ten seconds." He yawned, shaking his head.
1
"Not even your brother was as cocky as you." Now that got his attention, Dante smirked dangerously, his eyes narrowing into slits.
2
Tilting his head, "My dear old brother huh? No wonder you're hiding out in this crap hole outside the city." The demon roared at that, finally finishing his transformation. Nearly standing too tall for the building, Dante rolled his eyes.
"Talk about compensating."
5
The wood splintered beneath him, "I'll rip you apart!" Claws a mixture of metal cybernetics and dark armored flesh rend towards him, ripping apart everything in their wake. In the reflection of his clear blue eyes, Dante saw a deadly bladepoint heading straight for him.
6
But he wasn't impressed.
7
Taking the flat side of his sword and holding it in front of his face, Dante stopped the demon in his tracks. A shockwave emanating from their clash.
Crack!
"Wha-" With a wave of his armament, the demon's claws fell away into metal giblets, showering the shop in crimson gore. Dante used his surprise to crush a heavy blow against the demon's ribcage, sending him cascading out of the bar and into the streets.
8
Flying out of the bar with his jacket flowing behind him, Dante cheered as he planted himself on top of the flying demon and used his body to surf down the street. "Woohoo, yeah!" Sliding out of the way of an oncoming car, Dante flipped and kicked the demon into a nearby wall, spinning in place violently before launching his sword down range. Rebellion acted as a buzzsaw, tearing through the demon and rending his flesh in a visceral flood of red.
9
Falling to the ground, upper and lower body splitting apart and releasing a fountain of blood into the sky. Dante spread his arms out widely as the blood drenched his clothing, embracing the viscera as the Rebellion flew back towards him.
...
10
"Grah! Eeargh!"
The demon tried to get up, only for Dante to hold his upper body in place against the wall with his boot. This time pressing both Ebony and her sister, Ivory, against his head.
The demon grunted, trying to resist, and then conceded. The iron against his head made him think twice. Dante levied a crooked grin, "So, how was that?"
"Damn… Damn you Son of Sparda!" Dante pressed a hand over his ear, chuckling before fully pressing his guns against the demon's skull.
Dante let out a sigh of relief, "Goodnight freak."
Pulling each trigger, Dante released a volley of bullets into the demon's skull cavity. Holes appeared bigger and bigger until his skull exploded into a fleshy mist, splattering against the wall in a macabre.
Corpse falling to the ground and burning away into flame, Dante retracted his guns and spun them. "Hehe, nailed it." Smirking, he blew the smoke from each pistol before holstering them and flourishing his jacket.
Suddenly, a foul odor filled his nostrils. Dante covered his face and made choking noses, "Aw is that me? Sheesh, I need a shower." Showering in the blood of a demon wasn't the most hygienic thing to do after all.
The faint smell of burning rubber filled his nostrils as well, the sound of a bike dragging to a stop alerted Dante to the man from before, Rebellion on his shoulder. Dante gave the man a raised eyebrow.
Breathing heavily, the man tore off his helmet. "The fuck was that, choom? Totally crazy. Hey, you good?." He jogged over to him, the package still in hand.
Dante gave the demon's blood splatter one last glance before looking at the much shorter man, a small smirk donning. "Taken care of, you're welcome. Small fry like that ain't worth much effort." He nods, slightly disappointed.
The delivery boy laughed, letting out a sigh of relief. His eyes begin trailing over the bloodstain, becoming wide. "Nova… Shit man how'd you do it? I don't see a lick of chrome on ya. And you beat that… that… Monster so easily." Dante took a seat on a cinder block, propping himself up with the Rebellion.
"Ain't no monster, that my friend, was a demon." Hmph, Dante glared wistfully towards the sky. "They love possessing humans, especially the crazy types, the less protection the mind has…" He pointed towards his head.
"The less defense you have against them."
The chilling statement caused the delivery boy to flinch, giving Dante just enough time to snatch the package in his hand and mount his bike.
Shaking his head twice, the delivery boy shouted at Dante. "Hey what the hell man?" Before he can grab onto the merc, Dante rolls the throttle and makes a 360 arc around him.
"Think of it as payment for me saving your butt." The delivery boy covered his face, "It's been a bash, but I have some family business to attend to!" Laughing joyfully, Dante, package in hand, left with the wind.
Finally lowering his arms, the delivery boy shouts after him but his voice only falls on deaf ears. Dante looks at the package, "Hm… P.L.S.? Some kind of arm mounted launch system, groovy." Inspecting the labels, he saw a taped tab dangling in the wind.
"For Maine."
"Huh."
Placing the package inside the bike's storage compartment, Dante revved the throttle even more, blitzing down the highway towards the lights shining in the sky. "I bet this could get me a ton of cash." Some military cyber freak was bound to have a lot of eurodollars on him.
And besides, "It's really been a year already, huh?" Shaking his head, Dante revved the throttle and swerved through traffic, entering the main highway. His destination?
Plastered in a bright neon light is the words, "Night City." A place for people like him to do business, and maybe he'd finally find a cute chick to get hung on. You never know. Night City is a place where dreams are made, ain't that what they say?
Well, "Whatever happens, that prick better be ready." That's right, Dante was itching to blow a hole in his chest. The only man in the world who could beat him, outclass him, and respond to his verbal threats. Dante's trigger finger itched at the very thought.
"Vergil, Devil of Arasaka. I'll be seeing you soon, Big Bro."