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MONSTER	By : Radius Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 10984 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: Finally! I didn’t think I’d finish this chapter on time. Er, I apologize for any errors. Again, I’m making it my mission to post a chapter every week so I may have overlooked a couple of things. Don’t worry, I planning on going back to each chapter and making sure each it’s 100 % grammar proof, or close to it. :P

Wow! I’m very excited knowing people are really liking this story! Thanks to all the people who’ve posted reviews on this story, and to those who continue tuning in. I appreciate that you all being open-minded and are just enjoying the characters, including the ones I’ve created. ^_^

Things are starting to get interesting at this stage of the story. You’ll see what I mean after this chapter. It’s kinda funny I was listening to ‘Frozen’ by Madonna today while typing this chapter and discovered how the song just fit with the situation between Dante and Seth. O_o Anyway, I’ve been listening to a whole mass of other music. No surprise it’s mostly eighties stuff with the occasional modern song. I really like ‘Gravity Loves’ by Enigma and can sooo hear that song playing in the background toward the end of the story. Well, enough of that. For those who haven’t checked out my deviantart account, I got a new pic of Seth up. I was in the Halloween mood when I made this. Enjoy. ^_~

http://radiuszero.deviantart.com/art/Trick-or-Treat-Colored-67109491

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<< | Bitter Moments | >>



                “So let’s be real about this, there’s been a lot of anxiety going around lately. There’re the recent lay offs. The government has decided to raise taxes. Gas prices have gone up again. And now the streets have become even more dangerous to walk around at night. So yes, it seems everywhere we turn, something terrible is happening. Having said that, however, we all need to stick together. In other words, we need to be there for each other. We’re a community here, a family. Each of you is a vital part of it. And because we’re all important and are a part of each other, we need to build trust. Trust, ladies and gentlemen. Trust is something we take very seriously here at Landis’ Meat Factory. Without trust, we’re no better than the animals. Trust, that’s what this is all about.”

                The ethics officer stopped for a moment and took a moment to study the factory workers also present with her in the locker room. They stood around her, looking exhausted and dressed in casual clothes. The group was ready to head home. Their work shift was over and none of them were in the mood to stick around, especially the big black man hidden at the far back of the locker room. He looked both annoyed and nervous.

                “Now, I’m not here to place judgment on people,” she continued. “I’m not here to punish anyone either. I’m here to go over a couple of issues and, perhaps, to clarify some of them.”

                The group of workers quietly mumbled to themselves, anticipating they were going to stay here longer than they wanted to. The ethics officer had already spoken to other groups throughout the day and they were the last. As the bunch tried to find a comfortable seat on the room’s benches, Lance took a moment to grab a few things from his locker.

                “I’m not sure whether it’s a matter of making simple mistakes,” the female ethics officer resumed, “or a lack of communication. Whatever it is, the misplacement of food products has posed a serious problem here. It’s been happening since last month. We have over seven-hundred pounds of meat unaccounted for. Likewise, the keys to the basement’s maintenance room are still missing.”

                Lance took a seat on the bench close to his locker. The factory’s ethics officer continued talking about trust and codes of conduct. No one in this room felt comfortable. She, alone, held the power to lay off people if they weren’t abiding by the codes of the conduct standards. Once in awhile, Lance noticed the woman glancing at Jan, the manager. Jan didn’t look very pleased. A bald man in his forties, he was frustrated by the situation. Every day he talked about the pounds of meat missing from the factory and urged people to come forward with information regarding the responsible parties. No one wanted to, mainly because Jan had a habit of firing the informant along with the wrongdoer, just to state that those who kept quiet for too long would get punished as well. Now the manager brought in an ethics officer and was talking about beefing up security and surveillances.

                Lance tried not to look worried.

                “Next week, we’ll be screening everyone here,” stated the woman as matter-of-fact, “All visitors, including family members, will also be required to carry an ID.”

                In reaction to the news, there were a few sighs and grumbles. Again, Lance kept quiet.

                “Please understand, these measures must be taken in order to insure satisfactory performance. As a family, we need to be a strong unit and inspire greatness. Furthermore…”

                Lance ignored the rest of her speech. He suspected everyone else did too. No one really believed her when she said they could confine in her. As far as they were all concerned, there was no such thing as being ‘anonymous’. After a few more words from the ethics officer, and from a disgruntled Jan, they were finally given permission to head home. The locker room became a frantic scene of noise and movement once the two higher-ups left. In their absence, many griped about the ethics tests and ID requirements. Lance even heard a few curse, threatening to beat up whoever was taking from the factory’s inventory. He could only sit very still and wait until the crowd dissipated. And then there was only him.

                By himself now, he searched the bottom of his locker. He scooted aside many bottles of medicine and a few car magazines. Once in a while he checked around the locker room, just to make sure he was alone. Then he continued looking through the contents of his locker. He came across a colored photograph and paused, holding it up at eye level. He grinned.

The brunette man in the photo had cherry red lips. The brilliant smile he flashed inspired Lance to laugh a little. Ah, those really were simpler times, he thought. He hoped more were to come. The deep feeling in his gut, though, said otherwise.

His eyes caught sight of the window next to him. It revealed a full moon outside, surrounded by clouds. The night sky was a mixture of deep rich purples that was overwhelmed by a mass of blackness. A part of Lance frowned as he stared longer at the giant white orb.

No, things were going to get complicated from here on out.

Lance put the photo away and continued his search. He finally found the keys to the maintenance room and stashed them deep into his back pocket. One last look around and he stood to leave. Lance saw the moon outside again, taking a deep breath before heading for the basement.

***

Three zombies approached fast from his left. Their mouths opened and grimy hands extended outward, they came at him in full force. Eyes wide opened, bloodshot and wild, their expressions invoked a fear he tried to ignore. He nearly flinched as he squeezed off three bullets on each staggering body with his pistol. They weren’t the traditional type of zombies shown in the movies. Fast moving and able to endure several hits at the head, it took some more bullets to permanently put these dead guys to rest. One, however, managed to swipe at him on its way down. Contact was made and he took the damage. Still, there wasn’t much he could do about it right now. He needed to keep moving since ten more were closing in on his position, fast. Cursing to himself, he turned right and went through a set of double doors.

The mansion had obviously seen better days. The floors and walls were riddled with holes while most of the furniture was overturned or completely trashed. The extravagant, crystal chandelier that once dominated the ceiling had smashed directly into a long dining table. Paintings were splattered by blood. And there were bullet shells all over the floor. There were so many of them that they looked like shiny pebbles. By the mansion’s fireplace was a dead woman whose entire torso was torn in half. He checked her, hoping she yielded any useful items or information.

He should’ve known better.

The damn bitch lunged at his legs. He fired five shots into her head. His retaliation was successful and she remained still. However, the loud noise attracted a crowd of bats from the chimney. The door he came from slammed opened and a chainsaw-wielding zombie emerged. That guy was too powerful to take down with just a pistol. Selecting a shotgun as his next choice of damage control, he pumped many rounds into him. Each one forced him backward. The zombie finally collided with a chair and fell with a heavy thud, part of his chainsaw slicing through his own neck. He shrieked as a splash of blood squirted outward. Meanwhile, the bats from the fireplace swirled around him. His vision was chaotic, consumed with wings that fluttered everywhere. He ran for another door a few feet away.

He was alone in a hallway now and it was quiet. Too quiet. It was one of those situations he knew would turn to shit the moment he took a step forward.

He was right.

Something howled beyond the red door at the far end of the corridor. A part of him wanted to turn back and find another path. The sound of a chainsaw from the other room, though, reminded him of what still awaited him there. With only ten shots left in his twelve-gauge shotgun and no ammunition he could see lying around, he decided to take his chances and go through the red door.

He cursed when he was attacked from above. He shot as much as he could at the black, furry beast. He’d be damned if he let this monster get the best of him. He made it this far and was going to see it to the end. This creature was going down, no whatever.

“Dude, got anymore tokens? I ran out…”

Spook blinked. Momentarily distracted by the voice behind him, the giant beast on the screen successfully took a heavy chunk of green from his life bar.

“Fuck!” he cursed and opened fire again with his plastic gun. “Jesus, man, can’t you see that I’m busy? Jesus!”

Standing next to him, Agent Scully rolled his eyes and took a slurp from his medium-sized cup. He burped out loud.

At King Tut’s Pizza Palace, Paranormal Five decided to have their mandatory meeting here. It was crowded as usual, consumed with teens and noisy kids. The lighting was colorful and bright and the environment smelled of many foods. The mascot of King Tut strolled around, giving away free samples of pizza. With arcade machines lined up in a back room and a few other entertainment devices around, it was the perfect place to hang out. Originally, the team of investigators was supposed to go over information regarding their case. However, they didn’t see the harm in playing a few arcade games and stocking up on pizza. All work and no play made life pretty crappy, right?

The werewolf attacked Spook again, his claws long and sharp. He side-stepped to the right and opened fire again and again.

“Ooh, you’re facing this dude,” realized Agent Scully and looked at the screen intently, “He’s a tough bastard. I always get killed by him or that chainsaw dude.”

“Yeah, but I’m not. I’m killin’ this fucker.” Spook gritted his teeth when his life bar changed from a healthy green to a dangerous red color.

“Dude, you sure you ain’t got anymore tokens? I’m sucked dry. No one’s got anymore tokens on them either. I tell ya, I miss the days when ya only needed one token to play. Nowadays, you’re better off buying a console system… It makes you wonder if it’s all a conspiracy. Maybe the arcade dudes made a contract with the videogame console dudes, which consist of jacking up prices so high, you have to switch to a console. Or something like that.”

Spook ignored Agent Scully’s senseless ramblings and concentrated on the battle on screen. The giant monster who was royally handing him back his ass.

“Whoo-hoo! I see a power up!” he said after awhile.

“Awesome, your life’s about to change, dude,” replied Agent Scully sarcastically. “I guess I’ll be at the table then.”

“Hold on, I’m almost done.”

Agent Scully watched Spook play. The leader of Paranormal Five acted with the experience of a veteran gamer. After dodging one last attack, Spook pumped a round into the werewolf’s heart.

“Bull’s eye!” declared Spook and watched the werewolf’s impressive animations as it died. “And that, my friend, is how it’s done.”

“Yeah, I’m impressed, dude.” He nodded back. “That son-of-a-bitch was really tough.”

“Uh-huh. And just you wait until I confront the monster roaming the streets. I’ll definitely show him a thing or two.” Spook laughed and twirled the plastic gun in his hand. “Goddamn, I’m a God.”

He looked at the event that followed after the demise of the game’s boss. Onscreen, the hero rescued the captured female scientist and together, they fled the mansion via helicopter before it exploded. The helicopter landed later and they were greeted by a crowd of people, all happy the monster was finally dead. The nightmare was finally over and everyone could rest in peace. Spook smiled when the two main characters kissed and the sun shined brightly in the horizon.

It was so simple, so easy that it was almost touchable. Spook imagined the very same happy ending for him and the rest of the gang. He couldn’t wait until they cracked this case and bagged this monster. It was going to be beautiful. The city would thank them and they would forever be remembered as heroes. And who knew… maybe Damsel and he could…

“Ha, we’re gonna be famous, dude,” mentioned Agent Scully, as if reading his mind.

“And rich,” Spook added, very pleased. “It’s going to be really cool.”

After shooting in his name’s initials and earning first place in the game, Spook joined Agent Scully at their table. Chewbacca was already there, his mouth all over a large slice of pizza. Spook and Agent Scully tried not to look disgusted by the strings of cheese falling over his goatee. Meanwhile, Radar emerged from the left, carrying five stuffed animals.

“To the victor come the spoils,” quoted Spook when he noticed him.

“Damn right,” Radar said and sat next to Agent Scully. He, too, paused at Chewbacca’s eating habits. He turned away. “Kinda sucks I couldn’t get that Betty Boop doll. Oh well, next time.”

Chewbacca took another slice of pizza from the tray at the center of the table. Eating it, he asked, “So are we going to have our meeting now?”

“Yep.” Spook looked around. “Where’s Damsel?”

“I saw her taking a call by the ladies’ restrooms, dude,” answered Agent Scully.

“She’s been really distracted lately,” inserted Chewbacca.

“Dude… don’t talk with your mouth opened like that. You look really disgusting.” Agent Scully made a face. “And, uh, clean your goatee. Please, dude.”

Chewbacca grumbled something and wiped his face.

“Yeah, she’s been distracted lately, hasn’t she?” Spook commented and took a drink from his cup of Root Beer. “I wonder what’s up with her.”

“PMS,” stated Radar bluntly. “Happens to all women. It’s like… they undergo an alien transformation.”

“I thought PMS only happened when they reached middle age?”

Radar shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a psychic, not a doctor.”

“She told me she went clubbing yesterday, dude,” informed Agent Scully, “She had to meet up with some guy or something. I don’t blame her for getting her groove on. Her mom tried to escape from the ward yesterday morning.”

“Oh…” Spook’s voice was very low. Deep down, he tried not to feel wounded over the fact Damsel went to see a guy.

“Well, well, well…” a male’s voice suddenly said. “I didn’t think the Goonies would be making a cameo here.”

Spook turned and immediately frowned.

A big man wearing a black vest with several cameras attached to it stared back at him. He black beard looked thick and overwhelming. Behind him were seven others, who all looked at Paranormal Five with disapproving faces. Unofficially, Han Solo was the city’s prime investigator. Officially, however, Griffon Naughton and his posse were the investigators recognized by city officials. They were hired to deal with paranormal disturbances and in charge of the Cleansing event. To Spook, Griffon was an arrogant asshole who could never get enough of himself. It was easy for him to put down newcomers he considered beneath him. Talk was cheap, though, and Spook was determined to prove him and everyone else wrong.

“I thought I smelled ass in the wind,” Spook shot back.

Griffon glared coldly at him.

“Yeah,” reinforced Chewbacca with a smug look on his face. “Hrrr… you might wanna shave that pussy hair off your face, man. I hear it adds ten years to ya.”

“You’re one to talk to talk about,” spat Griffon back. “Anyway, I just came by and wanted to know if you kids are still playing at the kiddy section of the pool.”

Griffon and his friends laughed. Chewbacca was ready to stand and throw down, but Agent Scully held him back. Chewbacca sat and growled an obscenity.

“Why don’t you take off and leave us alone?” Spook told him. “We’re really busy talking about a major case.”

“Case? Pu-lease. I can’t believe you guys still think you’re investigators. Really, you guys need to stop kidding yourselves. Why not do something more productive with your lives? Like make my Big Mac with extra lettuce and fries on the side?”

“Dude, you are a Big Mac,” joked Agent Scully.

Griffon gave Paranormal Five’s skeptic a brutal look. “Take my word for it, kids, you aren’t big enough to play our game. In fact, it’s guys like you that are giving this business a bad rap. You think because you got a camera and a recorder you can call yourselves investigators.”

“That because we are investigators, creep,” barked Spook. “We may not be formally educated and have a degree in this field. And the city may not be paying for our equipment and services like some people around here, but we’re doing well on our own.”

“Ha, only one man in this town can say that, and you guys aren’t him.”

Spook’s eyes narrowed and he stood, confronting Griffin. Because the city’s hired help was a good six inches taller than him, Spook had to look up.

“Mark my words, ya tub of meat, we’re going to outwhoop Dante and every other hotshot in this town,” he roared. “We’re tons better than him and we’re going to prove it with our current investigation. So pay close attention, you might learn something.”

“Oh, I’ll learn something all right. I’ll learn you guys are a buncha dimwits who can’t take a hint.” Griffon adjusted his vest a little. “Now, if you brats will excuse me, I’m gonna have some chow before I get back to work. It’s been entertaining, but I’m a busy man with lots to do, what with city jobs and all.”

Griffon and his posse chuckled to themselves as they drifted to the other side of the establishment. Spook wanted to throw a fist at the big man but decided it wasn’t worth it. Spook threw himself on a chair, a heavy frown on his face.

“Bastard,” he muttered.

The event left a sour taste in his mouth and he tried not to let the encounter ruin their get-together. If anything, he needed to be even more focused and determined. The sooner they cracked their case, the sooner they could prove to Griffin, Han Solo, and everyone else that Paranormal Five was the real deal. Taking a deep breath, Spook grabbed a slice of pizza and patiently waited for the last member to arrive.

At the ladies restroom, the team’s action seeker chewed on her nails while holding her cell phone to her ear. She paced the floor, looking nervous. Every once in awhile, she glanced at herself in the mirror and kept telling herself that she should dye her hair purple. It was Rainbow’s favorite color. Meanwhile, her ears picked up the various sounds in her phone. First came the ring tones. Then…

“Hi!”

“Rainbow?” Damsel responded. She grinned, feeling ecstatic. “God, I kept punching the wrong number. Listen, I really…”

“ Huh…?” Seth’s voice interrupted. “What…? I can’t hear you… “

“It’s me, Damsel,” she replied. “I thought I…”

“Come again…?”

“It’s…”

“Ha ha! Just kidding! This is just a stupid voice machine.”

Damsel frowned, her heart skipping a heat.

“If you’d like to contact moi, Seth, please leave a message at the sound of the beep.” The answering machine made a sound.

“Ugh, you’re kidding me, right?” Damsel said and thought this was a joke. Yet, she heard the automatic voice inform her to hang up. Damsel dialed again.

“Hi! Huh…? What…? I can’t hear you… Come again…? Ha ha! Just kidding! This is just a stupid voice machine. If you’d like to contact moi, Seth, please leave a message at the sound of the beep.”

“It’s me, Damsel,” stated the female investigator, feeling deflated more than ever. “That’s some… automatic voice message you have, Rainbow… Anyway, I wanted to talk to you. I, uh, read your survey. Would it be cool if we got together for brunch or something? I really want to see you again.” She sighed. “Okay, so, you know my number. I’m available all day. And, um, please don’t tell Dante I called. He looked like he wanted to kill me last night. Or something. But, uh, yeah. Mum’s the word, right?”

The answering machine told her to hang up. Damsel exhaled and snapped her cell phone together. She paused before heading out of the ladies room. A part of her wanted to call again, just to make sure Rainbow was really out. However, she didn’t want to come off as desperate. And she didn’t want to take any chances of leaving a message with his boyfriend around. Hopefully, Dante wasn’t in Rainbow’s apartment to hear that last part. Not that he had anything to worry about if he did. Their meeting was going to be an entirely professional one. That was the plan anyway.

Damsel took out a folded survey from her purse. It was the one Rainbow had given her last night. She reread parts of it. They really needed to get together for this. While it didn’t do anything for her team’s current case, his answers were rather… peculiar. They seemed to come from a man seeking help. Or was that just her imagination? She really wanted to see Rainbow again, after all, and was partly in a state-of-denial about the relationship he had with Dante. She hoped they could set up a meeting. And hopefully, his boyfriend wouldn’t be around to see it take place.

Damsel folded the survey and placed it in her purse again. She left the ladies room and headed for the table her team chose, soon realizing they were all there already.

“Hey, guys,” Damsel greeted as she approached. “Sorry for being late.”

“No prob.” Spook smiled a little. “Radar was just talking about the cops getting more phone calls at the station. They’re also recruiting more cops from up north.”

“Yeah,” confirmed the psychic, “The city will be getting a new Chief to replace the old one. His name’s Nathanial Peterson. He’s pretty young but he’s seen some heavy shit in his heyday, which is why the city opted for him. Lorraine told me he might create a special unit within the department to handle cases like ours. But they’re keeping all these details to themselves and, so far, nothing’s been confirmed. They want to avoid a citywide panic.”

“Dudes, ain’t that the same guy who was involved in that weird suicide cult case in Chicago?” Agent Scully ate another slice of pizza.

“Yep.”

“Awesome. I wondered why his name sounded so familiar.” Spook’s eyes gleamed. “I heard he made a big name for himself after that investigation. It probably explains why he made Chief so quick.”

“By the way,” Chewbacca told Damsel, “We had ‘company’ here before you arrived. Hrrr… real punks, if you get me.”

Damsel glowered and took a seat. “Griffon? Pfft, it figures that jerk would waltz in a place like this. I suppose he said the usual crap.”

“Of course.” Spook crossed his arms. “And, like always, that brown nose asshole had to put in a good word for Han Solo.”

Damsel smiled. “Well, speaking of Han Solo, I do have some good news for you, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Han Solo’s, he’s on vacation.”

Spook sat up straight. “Huh?”

“Rainbow told me he’s taking it easy. Which means, he’s laying off for awhile.”

“Ha! Best damn news I heard today.” Spook laughed and appeared excited. He looked up at the ceiling. “Thank you, Rainbow, wherever you are. Thank you!”

“Ever since Han Solo hooked up with Rainbow, the dude’s really changed. Hasn’t he?” Agent wiped his greased fingers with a napkin and sat back. “And hey, did you guys hear Rainbow wore a dress at Wolfgang’s club the other night?”

Radar chuckled. “I heard that too. And I heard Wolfgang was sent to the hospital after an incident with a dog. One of his balls got chewed off. And his other one, man… it got busted up pretty badly.”

“Really? That’s odd. I didn’t know the second one took a hit as well. Poor dude. No wonder Dante paid him a visit in the hospital.”

“They’re friends?”

“I guess… Why else would he see him?”

“Hrrr… it’s just wrong,” declared Chewbacca. “Men with men… it just ain’t right.”

“Dude, I dare you to tell Han Solo that to his face.” Agent Scully laughed.

Chewbacca grew abruptly quiet.

“Whatever, guys,” said Spook, “So long as Dante’s too occupied to care about what’s going on right now, that’s one less person to worry about. We got this case all to ourselves.”

“You know, it’s kind of weird seeing Dante attached to someone,” commented Radar, “I hear he’s a real player. You sure this isn’t just some booty call?”

“No,” replied Damsel, a bit disappointed, “They’re in a relationship.”

***

No. They weren’t in a relationship. Despite what everyone thought at the bars, clubs, and everywhere else they visited, they weren’t in one. Sure, in the past few days, their association had become more involved. There were nights where all they did was make love, or screw, depending on who said what. And there were nights where they just talked, trying to sound sophisticated and intelligent. However, they always interrupted the mood with a childish remark or got too bored to really care anymore. Whenever Seth got passionate, however, Dante made it a point to focus on what he had to say. He simply loved all the variations of sounds that came from Seth’s throat. He completely shut up to listen. Seth could read the entire dictionary and still make sound like the most incredible thing in the world. Unfortunately, his lover often took his silence for disinterest and became quiet afterward. It took a joke or warm caress to get him talking again.

Many times Dante contemplated over leaving Seth. Things were so right and terrific that he didn’t see the point of going any further and tempting fate. Somehow, Lady Fate always fucked up a good thing. It was better to bail out while the ride was still fun than stick around for the inevitable head-on collision. Every now and then, Dante imagined himself telling Seth it was over. In his daydream, Seth replied by saying nothing, only sucking on his lip like he always did. Afterward, they went their separate ways and he felt good, even relieved. The burden settling in the pit of his stomach was gone, as well as the ongoing tensions building in his mind and heart. No longer would he have to look at Seth’s beautiful face or shiver under his fire-hot touches. He would be a free man again. This sense of freedom was so tempting, in fact, that he nearly followed through with it each time he daydreamed about it.

But he couldn’t.

Thoughts of liberation came and went and, by the end of the daydream, Dante was left feeling empty. More unbearable than being stabbed a million times, the hybrid didn’t want to think of life after Seth. Somehow, it wouldn’t be as colorful or surprising. Even if Seth drove him nuts at times, there was something special happening between them. A spark of life. Of course, he’d never tell Seth that. He’d never tell him that his presence threatened his very being, his very soul.

Call it madness or plain stupidity, but Dante needed to ride this out. Seth was too enchanting to pass up. Love him or hate him, he was a mess of things. He was forward but shy. Happy but disturbed. Adult but child. Stranger but friend. Lover but sex fiend. Guarded but sincere. Honest but never direct. All of this, wrapped into one fine package. And he had to be the most sentimental hopeless romantic he ever met, madly obsessed with stories of love and the eighties.

The past few nights had been rather interesting. Because Seth had a habit of going on the roof top to have a smoke, they often went up there. Both brought bags of chips to eat and got drunk off cheap beer. Admittedly, Dante hated going on top since it was usually chilly at night. He swore Seth would die of hypothermia one of these days. Still, it was worth it. Seth was always a colorful guy whenever he got dead drunk. He sounded like Ozzy Osbourne on crack. On the downside, though, he became unstable and overly emotional. Last night, Seth actually cried and Dante couldn’t help but laugh at him. Good lord, the man could be a woman. Of course, Dante had to laugh at himself too for adoring such a sensitive creature.

That awkward event happened last night when they talked about past crushes. With ‘Hong Kong Garden’ by Siouxie and the Banshees playing on the CD player, they ate over five bags of Doritos and Lays and drank through three cases of beer. Too drunk to be on his guard as usual, Dante confessed he was attracted to his first grade teacher, actor James Dean, and one of his partners. Surprisingly, Seth told him he fell in love only once. It was over a boy named Phil Le who was a musician. Curious over the last part of the name, Dante inquired about his nationality. That’s when Seth laughed a little, and then broke down and wouldn’t stop crying.

It took a hand job to get him back in a cherry mood again. Even then, Seth was distant. During his climax, Seth told him the moon was making him act strangely and that he wasn’t going to see him tomorrow because he was going to sleep all day. Dante didn’t know what to make of that and shortly after, he didn’t care. They had sex on the roof. By then, Dante wished Seth was always drunk because he delivered an intense ride, more intense than the ones he usually gave. Dante regretted feeling nauseous in the middle of it, though, thereby cutting the passionate session short. Seth had also pulled away with a worried look on his face, his eyes wild with fear. Usually, the flamboyant man let him stay at his apartment but this time, Seth wanted him to go home and feel better. Had he known Seth would be gone by the next day, he wouldn’t have ever left.

No. They were not in a relationship. And it didn’t bother Dante at the slightest that his sentimental, eighties-loving man was gone. Again and again, Dante told himself that his absence meant nothing. After all, it wasn’t Dante continuously calling Seth or visiting his apartment seven times in a row today, just to see if returned home. And it wasn’t Dante walking through the streets of the city to track down his scent again. It was someone else, some stupid guy who was worried, anxious, and going through something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Or maybe ever. No, that was some asshole… who just happened to look and talk like Dante.

There was some good news. Seth did call in the early hours of the day before completely disappearing from the face of the planet. He mentioned something big had come up, only, he didn’t go into details about it. Overall, his message was quite simple: he wasn’t going to see him today. While that shouldn’t have disappointed Dante, he had to admit, it did. Even more awkward, the tone in Seth’s voice sounded… disturbed. It wasn’t as smooth or carefree as it usually was. Something was bothering him. No matter how many times Dante asked what was wrong, however, Seth remained elusive. The private paranormal investigator felt concerned and confused but respected him and hung up to let things be. Dante hoped things were all right and that Seth knew he was there for him.

With no Seth to laugh or make love with, Dante decided to take on one of Enzo’s gigs out of sheer boredom. And to remind himself he wasn’t in a relationship.

                At the third floor of a department store, Dante wore his working clothes and carried his tools of the trade: a large sword named Rebellion and two automatic twin pistols affectively called Ebony and Ivory. He put his sword in a giant guitar case and slid the strap over his right shoulder. It was a large weapon, one that was nearly his full size and had a skull and skeletal ribs at the handle. Rebellion was a memento, passed down by his father. Many devils and demons had fallen to this sword and as he secured the case’s locks, he wondered how many more would too.

Now standing in the middle of a large room, Dante looked around to see if he was alone. It was an expensive three-storied building with an exterior of fine brick and an interior of marble walls, done in the late Gothic Italian fashion. The solid walls were broken up by glass, which revealed promising purchases. The store was the type that reeked of wealth and prestige, visited only by the rich, powerful, and famous. Several times Dante passed by it while riding his bike down Francis Boulevard, noting the air tight security and snobbish, overdressed people. He wondered what they would all think if they saw their favorite department store now. It was in complete ruins.

                The walls were riddled with bullets. Glass was shattered everywhere. There was also a peculiar green haze that settled throughout the entire complex. And blood, God, the blood… There was so much of it that they’d need an entire crew to clean it up for days. While it didn’t disturb Dante since he was used to this type of stuff already, he was annoyed in learning his red trench coat was in dire need of a good professional cleaning. As he wiped blood off his cheek with a gloved hand, he gazed down at the torn arm still embedded deep inside his stomach. The owner’s body was a few feet away.

                The demon was pretty small in size. Due to its long, lean arms and legs, it was built to support agility and speed rather than brutal strength. The tight muscles were devoid of fat and spotted with lime green dots. They seemed to glow against the midnight black color of its skin. Meanwhile, the head was pretty massive, wide at the temples with a chin that was pointed and sharp enough to break skin. Regardless of the stories and pictures, demons weren’t red creatures with horns sticking out from their temples, or had spiked-end tails and held pitched forks. Demons came in all shapes and sizes, including Devils, which were high-ranked powerful minions. Dante fought a Devil that took the shape of a giant spider once and it spewed lava. That Devil and many others was an example of their diversity.

Dante watched the demon’s body twitch once before it slowly exhaled its last breath. Then, with a soft hiss, he removed the demon’s appendage from his stomach. The sting of the wound quieted once his body’s regenerative abilities kicked in. Torn veins reattached themselves and tissue formed over it, soon followed by the emergence of vanilla-colored skin.

The private investigator threw the arm back to its owner. It landed near its head. So far, that demon was the last. Or he hoped it was. It was hard to tell. These particular demons were pretty annoying and clever. The green haze that consumed his surroundings came from them. Ever since he’d been hunting their kind, Devils in the Underworld tried to produce more efficient demons by arming them with unique abilities. The green spots these demons possessed were actually pores designed to eject gases. While they were poisonous and lethal to humans, Dante was immune to their effects. However, they did corrupt his senses, including his sense of smell, a trait he relied on a lot.

So far, he counted forty dead demons. While Dante certainly wished he could take credit for their demise, most of them were dead by the time he arrived. Something bigger and more powerful made short work of the demons. There were claw marks on the walls that didn’t match up with the demons present. The victims in the upper floor were completely devoured with teeth that must’ve been a foot long. Even more peculiar, some of the demons had been… drained dry. They were left boneless. He didn’t know what to make of that. It was like the life was sucked out of them. Whatever creature was here, it had both incredible strength and power. And it didn’t leave much behind, save for a few limbs here and there.

As Dante removed a point-and-shoot camera from his coat’s pocket and documented the evidence, he wasn’t sure whether to be glad or concerned.

The investigator continued taking pictures and put the camera away once he captured all the essentials to analyze later. With his business practically done here, he made his way to the escalators, stepping onto some glass. Selling designer clothes and the latest in accessories and technologies, Dante knew the damages here were well above the billion-dollar range. No way was he going to be sent the bill, which was why he shot all the cameras the moment he arrived. His movements were also a blur, so he didn’t have to worry about being identified in the video feed. Financial damages weren’t the top of his things-to-be-concerned-about list, though.

It was a good thing the bloody event took place at night. There would’ve been even more casualties had it been otherwise. He couldn’t save the security officers. They were already dead by the time he arrived. Still, they were the only victims in, what could’ve been, a major disaster. Mostly, Dante kept any demons that survived the massacre from running off to get their supper elsewhere.

His ears suddenly rang.

With an efficient and quick gesture, his left hand held Ebony and pointed at the far corner of the room he resided in. Beyond a group of mannequins, he found movement. He missed one.

Damn. And here he thought he’d grab a beer.

The demon scuttled fast on all fours and leaped behind a glass case displaying jewelry, narrowly missing a bullet. The glass shattered, sending sparkles of crystal on the floor and escalating the damage bill. Dante was more concerned with tagging the demon to worry about it. He ran to its position with both guns ready to go. The demon sensed his approached and leaped again, high up into the air and caught the wall with its claws. They clicked as the demon ran along it to reach the ceiling, heading for a skylight window directly across. Dante knew he’d lose the demon if it made it through. The investigator ran up a wall. His own demonic abilities allowed him to jump to the ceiling and run upside down, following the demon’s trail with his hair and suitcase hanging downward. All the while, the devil hunter fired both guns simultaneously.

Dodging left and right, the demon paused long enough to puff out a large cloud of green gas from its pores. Dante coughed and his teary eyes squinted to see through the smoke. He heard the demon’s claws clicking again, the sound moving away from him. The noise of glass breaking followed shortly. Already knowing its destination, Dante held his breath and ran through the cloud of green to reach the skylight window. His case nearly fell but he caught it at the last minute and went through the window.

Standing upright again, Dante sneezed and found himself at the top of the building. The demon was running down the slide of the pyramid-shaped skylight window. Growling, Dante ran after it and shot ahead of it, managing to catch an arm. It should’ve been enough to make it hesitate. Unfortunately, demons didn’t react like humans. They registered pain but kept moving anyway. Yes, they were an annoying lot and, up until now, he’d nearly forgotten why he needed a break from these assignments.

The persistent demon kept going and stopped at the edge of the building. Another bullet caught it, this time at the leg. Nonetheless, it pounced to the building across, catching enough air to span itself across ten meters. It landed on the other building’s roof and kept going. The devil hunter soared into the air for a few seconds before landing and pursued the demon without missing a beat. His speed increased and more bullets were inflicting enough damage to slow the creature down.

Jumping on another building, the exhausted demon turned in midair and spat a goop of venom directly in Dante’s path. Luckily, he blocked it from reaching his face with an arm while in the middle of his jump. They landed, with only two seconds apart from each other now. Sensing the demon’s end, Dante’s eyes flashed red. His body coursed with the energy of a Devil, the blood within him turning blue and a heat flushing his entire skin. Power glowed over his arms in the form of electricity, flowing straight to his set of pistols. By the third building leap, his shots were like blue fireballs, catching and engulfing the demon in blue flames. A blink later, and the demon’s body exploded into heavy chunks of rotten meat.

His bullets were standard 9mm capsules, used to mask evidence of him being at the crime scene because of its common use. Regular bullets didn’t kill demons but his did. Dante blessed them with spells and dipped their tips with his blood, blood that held properties no scientist could unravel and which completely evaporated after a day. Dante’s blood and spells prevented demons from self-regeneration. Once the damaged was done, it stayed done. In addition, because the bullets were dipped with his blood, they were connected to him. Very rarely, Dante got angry enough to evoke the Devil’s blood within him. When that happened, he conjured enough energy over his body and on anything that was contaminated with his blood. In this case, it was his bullets that received his Devil aura.

Dante’s feet touched the bricked edge of the building. He sighed and slumped to the ground, blowing a puff of air from his lungs. The demon proved to be more challenging than he originally suspected. He had to give props to Mundus, Devil Prince of the Underworld, for being more creative with his pet projects. Dante ran a gloved hand through his messy silver hair and caught a glance of his coat’s sleeve. He cursed.

“Demon snot,” he muttered as he flicked the poisonous goop off with a firm shake of his wrist. “Wonderful…”

Another inhale and Dante took in the cool night. It was a cloudless sky and the moon was fully awake. Below, police sirens wailed, perhaps heading to the department store. Whatever. He was long gone from that place. Let the cops discover the demons’ cadavers. It’d be interesting to hear the bullshit story they’d tell in tomorrow’s news anyway. Funny how city officials still felt compelled to cover up evidence regarding supernatural entities, as if the citizens didn’t know already.

Dante looked around, trying to figure out what side of town he was to know which path headed homeward. He blinked and fought back a grin. Seth’s apartment was just a few blocks away. He recognized it even from where he sat. Interesting, how the demon led him here.

Judging from the sounds he could hear, Seth’s neighbors at the left were having another fight, the right ones were just having dinner, and the bottom people were going to bed. All three rooms were lit brightly, but not the middle one. The familiar and funky color of pink was turned off. Dante had a strong urge to go inside the apartment to switch the neon sign on. A heavy sigh later, however, Dante stood and prepared to head home. Aside from a good bath, he was looking forward to seeing his romantic, eighties-obsessed man again. He missed him.

But, no, they weren’t in a relationship.

Well…

Maybe…

***

                Music blared loudly from a parked car’s speakers. A group of college students who’d just finished their semester gathered around a bonfire they made in a trashcan. Under a bridge with only a few cars passing by, they weren’t worried about being spotted by patrol cars. It was a good spot, hidden deep within the slums of the city where the homeless dominated and nobody cared. So long as they shared the food and drinks, their neighbors tolerated the young group who felt immortal. Some of them were heading home and so, tonight’s celebration was to last them a good whole summer.

They danced around the fire, moving awkwardly. All of them were drunk, their kidneys expanded with a heavy supply of beer. More drank while a few shot up toxic chemicals into their systems, tapping their veins before releasing an ecstasy they sought after. On the ground, several couples made out. They were covered by the comforters they brought with them. Moaning and physically connecting, the college students ignored the dirty ground littered with empty cans, butts, needles, and torn academic books. By the car, several exchanged stories while stuffing their mouths with pizza and burritos. Overall, they were having a party intended to erase months of rigid routine and expectations.

One man currently grunting and diving inside his partner decided to take a quick break. He put on his pants and disbanded himself from the party to take a piss. Shirtless and hot, he went around the corner, at a nearby abandoned building.

The young college student opened his zipper and let out a relieved sigh. He hoped the homeless people inside it weren’t looking at him. A bit weary, he turned away from a window. Surprisingly, they were quiet. When they first arrived, they were pretty loud, sputtering nonsense about rabies and black beasts with claws.

His ears picked up his favorite song playing and he bobbed his head to the beat. He could heard hear several of his friends cheer loudly, a few of them singing along with the lyrics. It really was a great song. The original version was from the eighties but the latest one was way better. This really was a great party and he was going to miss all of this.

                There was a gentle sound, like something clicking.

                The young man stopped bobbing his head and looked up, confused. The noise came from above but he saw nothing. The tall, bricked building he was pissing at spanned too high for him to see the edge. The lighting was also terrible, with only one streetlight lit throughout the entire neighborhood.

It became silent again. The young man wondered about the homeless people again but they were inside sleeping.

Meanwhile, the party continued and the people hollered. The young man cursed and tried to hurry up. Apparently, he drank a lot of beer because his pee-hole still wanted to squirt. He sighed and kept at it. He hated being here. It was too quiet and it smelled funny, like a mixture of piss, shit, and a strange metallic aroma he felt he should recognize but couldn’t at the moment. He wanted to get back to the girl he was seeing behind his girlfriend’s back.

Somehow, he needed to break the news to her when he came home and saw her. He had to tell her he was taking back his promise, the one about college not changing their relationship. His shaved head and the tattoo of a naked demon was proof of that. His girlfriend was okay. Stable. Friendly. And was always there. But she was boring too. She wasn’t as wild as the woman he was screwing right now. She didn’t do threesomes and coke. She didn’t like to go clubbing and barhopping. His girlfriend was too wholesome for any of that. He needed someone else with a lot of spice. He needed a naughty girl who’d go down on him anywhere and leave him his space. His girlfriend’s bear hugs and love letters were too much for him.

                He heard the clicking sound again.

The young man looked to his left. It came from that direction. He wondered what it was until the party hollered louder. Grunting, he tried to force the piss out faster. He needed to get back soon. He was totally missing out on all the damn fun. They were ecstatic and having the time of their lives while he was here. Pissing. And hearing odd noises.

                The party yelled again, the girl he was with was hollering the loudest. Fuck this. He’ll finish this up later. Mother Nature could kiss his ass. If he pissed inside her, then fine. Whatever. She was too drunk and high to know the difference between piss and cum anyway. Zipping it up, he kicked himself for not wrapping it up sooner because now no one was hollering. He heard the music playing and no one screaming anymore. Either his friends were dancing or making out. Marching back to the bonfire he was ready to come up with a clever remark for his delayed returned.

                But he stopped.

                Everyone was lying on the ground very still. That heavy metallic smell he picked up earlier was heavy here. The tin can housing the bonfire was tipped over. At first, a funny thought seeped into his mind and he laughed. Those jackasses, they were playing a prank on him, pretending to be asleep. He went to the girl he was nailing, still tucked under the blanket. Lifting it, he was about to say boo until he screamed.

He saw a mass of blood and glistening meat, the skin viciously torn off, parts of it flapping against a weak wind breeze. Even the face was nothing more than an image of wet tissue with half the skeletal teeth exposed. He was numb with shock, pissing out the rest he held back. It took a while for him to register that the heap of flesh was still moving, still alive. He saw its eyes and recognized them.

                The young woman’s eyes widened. They looked beyond him. The same clicking sound from earlier came again. Behind. When he turned around, he thought about the girlfriend back home. Bear hugs and love letters. More than ever, he wanted to see her face.
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