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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
- 17
- 18
- 19
A/N: Weee! Another update! That’s right! I’m trying to get all these chapters edited and posted. I’m making it my mission to post this entire fanfic (all 248 pages of it) here before the end of this summer. They’ll be days where I’ll post 2 chapters, just to speed things up. *sigh* I still got a way to go in getting the other chapters edited, but these recent chapters are the turning point of the story. Little by little, things are being revealed and setting the pieces in place, all of it leading to the grand finale. Thanks to all for your patience and continue rocking on. ^_^ I’m almost through the hill.

<<| Beware of the Animal |>>

Pointless. It was pointless. He belonged to him and only him. No man or woman could have him. No human or Other. And he couldn’t escape him either. The Sleeper tried to escape two nights ago. He tried to sever their connection by killing himself. But he couldn’t, it was pointless. What an idiot. Didn’t he already know this? Their connection existed beyond time and space. It could never be severed. He was a part of him. Forever. They were one and the same. Night and day. Life and death. Nothing could separate them. Not land. Not heaven or hell. Not even his estranged Aficionado could separate them. No, not even him. The Aficionado was welcomed to try, of course. In fact, he enjoyed seeing him struggle and bite, trying to make sense of all this chaos. It made him very attractive.

Ah, the Aficionado…

He was so beautiful, so terrifying in his rage and jealously. It was almost ironic. A glance into the Aficionado’s eyes and it was evident he shared a similar desire for blood and spoils. Perhaps the Sleeper was drawn to the Aficionado because he somehow felt familiar. Hah. That must be it. It was the joke of the century. But yes, those eyes… Those ocean blue, crystal eyes… The Aficionado was the same. All desire and power. All rage and hate. All lust and hunger. The Aficionado understood the true laws of nature. He understood its benefits.

Unfortunately, like the Sleeper, the Aficionado tamed the animal within. He hid under the face of a human, hiding the darkness within him, pretending to be normal. But he was not normal. He wasn’t even human, was he? How fascinating. The Aficionado was something else, something not from this world. Like him, he was beyond a mere mortal’s comprehension. Only time would tell when the Aficionado would awaken the animal within. He nearly did so not long ago, in the amusement park. It was absolutely fascinating. All that power… all that lust… It rivaled even his own.

The Aficionado’s connection to the Sleeper proved to be a hindrance, though. The Aficionado kept the Sleeper asleep, corrupting his mind with false love, hope, and dreams. It was the Aficionado that nearly cost the Sleeper to take his own life. My god, the Sleeper was madly in love the Aficionado. The Sleeper was willing to kill himself for the Aficionado. This was unacceptable. It was time to intervene in this matter, before the Sleeper attempted to do something rash and pointless again.

They had to be separated. Perhaps the Aficionado could be his instead. He could belong to him and only him. Then the Sleeper would learn of jealously and pain. Perhaps the Sleeper would suffer as he has suffered for so long? Yes. That was quite a seductive thought. Let the Sleeper smell the stench of betrayal and loss. Let him become an angry man, mad at himself and at his Aficionado. Only then, would he remember and treasure their connection again.

The Sleeper had to understand this. It was the only way for them to be together and whole again.

Soon, he would see his Aficionado again. Absorb the glory of his perfect body. Taste the sweetness of his blood and cum. Hear the tender echoes of his heart. Let the Sleeper have his fun while he still could. Let the Sleeper consume false illusions of love and grandeur. Let the Sleeper believe he had a chance with the Aficionado. It would make the betrayal even more obvious. Then he would realize the sad truth and come to understand that the Aficionado was the same as the Animal he’s hated for so long.

Yes. They were one and the same…

***

Damsel wished she had gone with the others to see Chief Peterson this morning. He was really nice, after all. Last night, he took the time to answer a few questions before leaving. After learning they were a paranormal investigative unit, highly exaggerated to be the best of the best, thanks to Spook, he invited them over to the station today. That surprised her. She had heard how open-minded Chief Peterson was when it came to the paranormal, but never really believed it. It was rare to find a public official believe in that sort of thing, especially if he risked losing his job because of it. Of course, Chief Peterson’s involvement in the events at Chicago some years ago probably had something to do with is.

No one really knew what went down in Chicago. Some said a pack of powerful demons were there, intent at ending the world, or something like that. Supposedly, Han Solo was there too. He helped Peterson, who was only a Lieutenant then. Peterson was checking out a series of peculiar suicides with his partner. All of the suicides had died horrifically. Damsel remembered the bizarre details from the newspapers and news coverage. One cooked himself in his parent’s stove. Another was a prostitute who killed herself with her own vibrator. What the fuck?

It really was a crazy case and Damsel was glad Paranormal Five had gone out of town on the day the world got fucked up. Many residents in the city claimed sightings of demons and zombies. They had killed a lot of people while the sky grew dark red and the weather was violent. She shitted in her pants when she felt the ground trembling, unable to stop. It was as if the world threatened to tear itself apart.

Thankfully, the terrible event had passed. The world was whole again. To this day no one knew what the fuck had happened or how the suicides were involved, if at all. But thank God it was over. Even if Spook and the others saw it as a missed opportunity for their team, she was glad they were nowhere near Chicago or here in the city to investigate it.

She had to give Peterson major kudos for being brave enough to live to tell the tale. A part of her wondered, however, about his partner’s whereabouts. He was officially declared dead five months ago. He’d been missing since the day of the catastrophe. Perhaps one day she’d ask the new Police Chief about it. Until then, she had work to do.

Damsel took a deep breath and flipped through a two-inch thick book. At the local library, her table was packed with books of various sizes. She didn’t bother telling Spook or the others about her plans for today. They would’ve told her it was a waste of time. Still, her mind couldn’t get passed a question that had haunted since she read Seth’s survey.

“Helene…” Damsel muttered to herself, seeing the name in the current paragraph she was reading. After scanning it she frowned. “Damn it.”

Again, there was nothing.

When she first arrived, armed with a list of books she wanted to check out, she was sure she’d find more information on the mysterious female spirit that, supposedly, drove werewolves mad. Was it a crazy idea to dive into such a mystical subject? Perhaps. Even if the reports she kept reading described a ‘black, large’ monster, no one mentioned ‘werewolf’ in their surveys. The black creature they were seeing could have been anything. Still… it didn’t hurt to look into this possibility, at least to get that idea off the table.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much about Helene. What was there was information she had already read from Seth’s survey. To her dismay, the library didn’t carry ‘Moon Dancers’ either, the book Seth had recommended. In fact, none of the libraries in America had it. On record, there were only three copies of it. One was in London but was declared lost. The second was destroyed in a fire in Germany. The final copy resided in a university in Rome. But shit, it was practically across the world!

The librarian was kind enough to request for it through e-loan, but she had no idea if the university in Rome would approve the request since that right was exclusively reserved for researchers and university students. She was neither. And even if she was, some universities didn’t lend out their books. Period.

“This sucks…” Damsel sighed and sat back against her seat. She rubbed both her temples, feeling a headache coming.

She thought this was going to be easy. Her teachers at school used to always tell her that going to the library was like picking up a pair of jeans at the department store. All she needed was the brand and that was that. Yeah… Right… Easy? Sheeit? She was better off finding Moses’ original Ten Commandments here at the library than finding a fucking copy of ‘Moon Dancers.’

Her phone rang. The theme to ‘Star Wars’ echoed throughout the quiet library, earning Damsel many annoyed looks. Damsel quickly answered it.

“Yeah?” she whispered.

“Damsel?” Spook asked out loudly.

“Sh! Shut up!” Damsel hoarsely muttered, nervously smiling at the pissed off man sitting across her table. She cupped her phone with a hand to reduce the sound coming from it.

“Huh? What?”

“Damn it, Spook. I’m in the library. Everyone can practically hear you!”

“The library? Why the hell are you there? I thought you said you were going to a dentist appointment?”

“It got canceled,” she lied, “Now could you please keep your voice down?”

“Okay…” he mumbled. “Seriously, though, why are you at the library?”

“I’m paying for an overdue book,” she fibbed again.

“All right.” Spook paused and Damsel could hear him chewing on something. His mouth was muffled when he said, “Listen, we’re at Burger King at Blanco Street. We’re going to head to my place to watch the news afterward. The mayor said he was going to announce the final verdict on that stupid curfew. Wanna join us?”

“Sure. Just give me a few minutes to collect my things.”

“Awesome.” Spook paused for a brief moment again. Damsel heard him slurp. “By the way, you really missed out this morning. Chief Peterson seemed impressed by us. I think if we play our cards right he might let us in on the case.”

Damsel doubted it but played along anyway. “What about that jerk, Griffon? Ain’t he in his bandwagon too?”

“Pft, as if. I’ll make sure he knows who the real players are in this town.”

“And, uh… Han Solo?”

At this, Spook grew silent.

“He’s got nothing on us,” he finally replied. “We’ll prove to him and everyone else that we’re the best. You’ll see. We’ll be famous. We’re the ones who were onto this case first. Remember?”

“Yeah,” was all Damsel could say.

“Well, all righty then. We’ll see you soon. You want Agent Scully to pick you up?”

“No. I’m not far from you guys. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“I’ll see you soon, then.”

Damsel hung up after saying her goodbyes. As she stood and abandoned all the books she’d been reading for roughly three hours, she felt a bit guilty for lying to the leader of Paranormal Five. Of the other members, he was the closest to a best friend she ever had. Since her mother was sent to the mental hospital he’d been supportive to her. She had to smile to herself the more she thought about him.

Sure, Spook wasn’t as sexy and bestial as Han Solo. Nor was he as beautiful and gentle like Seth. Hell, the boy practically made a fool of himself all the time. Nearly everything he said was either stupid or annoying. And yet, he was her comfort zone. He always put her first above the others. She didn’t know what to make of that.

“Excuse me,” Damsel heard a woman say from behind.

She turned around, realizing it was the librarian. “Yeah?”

The librarian walked toward her. “I got good news.”

“Hm?”

“I just received an email from the university in Rome. They agreed to loan us the book.”

Damsel’s face lit up instantly. Then she frowned. “But I’m not a college student.”

“I know. However, I can have my daughter put it under her name. She’s in college and is meeting me for lunch right now. She can request for it today.”

“Really?” Damsel’s voice rose in excitement.

The librarian nodded. “Yes, but please, don’t lose the book once it arrives. It’ll be under my daughter’s name so if anything happens to it…”

“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of it.”

Damsel shook the librarian’s hand in gratitude. She never did that before, but right now, feeling overwhelmed with exhilaration and relief, she couldn’t help herself.

“Good.” The librarian took back her hand. “She’ll request for it today. Give me your email and phone number so I can contact you when it comes in. Normally, books like this take several weeks to arrive, perhaps a month at the latest. It just depends on how fast the university in Rome works.”

“That’s cool. I’m just grateful for all you’ve done. I definitely need to get you and your daughter fruit baskets or something.”

The librarian laughed.

After leaving the librarian her email and phone number, Damsel left the library. She felt a heavy load lift off her shoulders. At last, the answers to all her questions would come.

***

Seth plucked in the last notes in his guitar, ending his song with a dramatic pause. His face felt moist against the bright spotlight, a bead of sweat trickling down his chin. Meanwhile, his heart pumped furiously, violently thrashing underneath his chest. Throat sore from all his singing, Seth grabbed the glass of water on the stool next to him and took heavy sips from it. Alone in the middle of a stage, Seth felt naked and isolated. He forced himself to breathe and remain calm. Despite the many performances he’d done in the past, he still got nervous; he still felt the burden of butterflies play in his stomach. It was a habit that had yet to dissipate. He doubted it ever would. Even so, he maintained his composure and waited for the results on his performance.

Directly across the stage and sitting at a large round table in High Ten Club, five men talked among themselves. Somewhere in their early twenties and dressed in causal attire, they were a part of the young generation boozed and drugged up on politics, culture, and angst. They knew what they liked. And what they didn’t like. In a time where anything came but nothing stayed, it was difficult knowing which was which. Some of the young men nodded their heads in approval while others chuckled in disbelief, shaking their heads.

He should’ve done another song, Seth immediately thought. Whereas the other musicians performed modern heavy metal, rap, and even country songs, he was the only idiot that played eighties music. Sure, Billy Idol was still well known and respected, but these guys didn’t seem like the type who danced to his tune.

His hands grew moist, slippery from sweat. He’d been in this situation before, countless of times, in fact. Not many appreciated the eighties vibe anymore these days. While it was popular with the indie crowd, most people of this generation were looking forward, not backward. Seth found it almost amusing since forward-thinking was usually backward-thinking.

From the middle of the stage, Seth watched the men continue their conversation. His sensitive ears picked up good and bad reviews from them. He looked away from them and focused on the bar area toward the club’s entrance. His eyes found a silver haired man there. He sighed a little when he noticed the subtle look on Dante’s face. He, too, thought he should’ve chosen a different song. Seth bit his lower lip, waiting for the five men to finish convening.

“Hey, uh…” a man with purple locks started, inhaling a cigarette. High Ten’s manager stopped and gazed at a sheet of paper in front of him. He briefly looked at Dante in the bar before offering Seth a short, reluctant smile. “That was… interesting.”

Interesting… Seth translated that as ‘horrific.’

“It says here you do other music,” the manager read from the paper. “Modern stuff, right?”

Seth cleared his throat and put his glass of water down. “Um… yeah. I sing that stuff too. I just prefer things from the eighties. I like giving old stuff a new spin, you know.”

“Interesting…” The manager paused, using that terrible word again. “But… you can do modern music, right?”

Seth sighed. “Yes.”

“Then play another song. I like your voice, man, but play something more recent.”

Seth took a few moments to think of one.

“Or better yet, how about some opera?” one of the other men offered. Half of his head was shaved, exposing a large dragon tattoo.

The rest of the group appeared impressed by the suggestion and quickly nodded their heads. Seth frowned, wondering how they knew such sensitive information. He didn’t put that tidbit in his application. Realization hit, however, and he glanced at Dante’s direction. Dante grinned back. For the first time since they met, Seth wanted to strangle the investigator to death with his guitar strings.

Lord, that man was unbearable sometimes.

“I don’t sing opera anymore,” Seth flatly stated.

“I promise, we won’t scold you,” the same man from before reassured. “This isn’t American Fuckin’ Idol, you know.”

“What range do you sing?” a man who practically looked like a skeleton asked.

Seth gazed at the floor, trying not to look annoyed. Quietly, he answered, “Heldentenor.”

“Really?”

“Oh, c’mon,” urged the manager again, “It’s not everyday we get boys with that type of voice. I know a lot of heavy metal bands who are looking for opera singers. Males are very rare to find.”

“I’m sorry, I really can’t,” insisted Seth. “It’s been a long time since I sang like that. If you want me to play a modern song, fine, I’ll do that. How about an acoustic version of Korn’s ‘Kiss’?”

None of the judges appeared interested anymore. They drank their beers and smoked their cigarettes in silence. Seth looked at Dante. The investigator had an unreadable look on his face. Seth chewed his lower lip, stuck in a situation he didn’t want to be in.

He swore off opera for Phil Le. It was his personal act of repentance for all the sins he committed in the past, ones that could never be forgiven. His voice… It was once an instrument used to signal the end for many unfortunate souls. He didn’t want to hear its terrible sound ever again. But that wasn’t entirely true… was it?

Seth placed his guitar on the ground, taking another long sip of his water. He wanted to leave. He wanted to tell the men sitting at the round table to fuck off and let him be. On the other hand, he really needed this gig. Money was tight since he spent most of it on his ‘going-away’ party several days ago. Oh, the irony… Then there was the fact that Dante had done a lot just to get him here. He didn’t want to disappoint him.

He’d be lying if he said he never wanted to sing opera again. On the contrary, he missed it. He mourned over the days he used to emit strong and powerful notes from the deep depths of his body, forcing them to emerge out from his mouth. It had been so long since he had done it. As a young boy, he breathed opera, hearing its first sounds from his mother.

He had a peculiar relationship with her. Like his father, she died a violent death when he was only ten-years-old. Beautiful and talented, she was a strong-willed and strict woman. Indeed, she had high expectations of him. She rarely expressed words of affection and seemed more concerned with raising him to be a strong man than treating him like her son. She must’ve been disappointed at how he turned out. Even so, she taught him how to sing. That was the time they bonded. That was the time they ever loved each other. It was only when he performed to the best of his ability that she allowed signs of affection and adoration to cross her face. He lived for that moment.

After her death, things changed. The innocence that came from singing grew distorted and turned into something truly terrible, manipulated by the Animal that wanted too much.

Seth finished the rest of his water and inhaled several deep breathes. The club was silent for a long time. He heard a snicker or two from backstage, probably from the groups of musicians performing after him. Seth gazed at his small-sized audience and the rest of the club.

The club wasn’t really extravagant as he originally thought it would be. When Dante first told him how it gave many musicians prominent notice, he expected the club to be larger and well-maintained. Instead, it was horribly small and smelled of piss and beer. The walls were cracked and the floors creaked practically everywhere. The gate that separated the stage and main floor didn’t appear very inviting either. He imagined the many ruthless performances that took place here, picturing the audience members throwing beer bottles and crude gestures. Over at the bar, the bartender looked as if he could break a man in half with only his stare. He only served cheap alcohol, accompanied by the frequent curse word. No, this club wasn’t very inviting at all.

As horrible as this place was, though, the possibility of singing opera seemed attractive enough. It would definitely change the club’s tempo. It would also shut up the annoying musicians backstage. Lord, screeching a string of incoherent words, at one-hundred miles per hour, wasn’t the only music there was. The people here needed to remember that music was a transcendental spirit that could move all.

Unfortunately, even when he wanted to prove his case, Seth was reluctant to do so. Singing opera again brought about a serious dilemma. On the one hand, he couldn’t break his promise with Phil Le. He needed to repent for his terrible actions in the past. He may never right all the wrongs, but he had to try. He had to punish himself. He shouldn’t feel happiness or contentment. It just wasn’t right. On the other, was it right to shun away all those years his mother devoted to his training? Her teachings were the only true legacy she left for him. By denouncing opera, he ultimately denounced her. Was there a way to settle this situation?

He supposed there was one way to do it. Maybe, just for today, he could make a compromise. Maybe only today he sang in the same spirit his mother used to sing to him. It would be in honor of her. But also, it would be in honor of the man sitting in the bar. More than impressing the judges, this song would be for Dante. For the first time since he left Rome, he had a reason to sing, one that was worthy and completely pure.

Before the manager got the chance to speak again, Seth took a deep breath and exhaled a loud note from his lungs. It was a long one, one that vibrated off the crusted, aged walls and floors. Glass tingled under its weight while the windows of the club trembled.

His powerful voice prevailed throughout the club, even to the people outside of it. It somehow stilled the world, forcing people to pause and listen to the sound of an angelic, otherworldly man. Many stood, baffled and unsure if what they heard was real and not divine. Others were immediately entranced by the lone performer on stage.

Other notes soon followed and Seth closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see anyone’s reaction to his song, not even Dante’s. Instead, he wanted to imagine he was back at the village he was raised from, during the days when Rome was still divided and a baby. He saw his mother sitting in front of him. With a stern face, she ordered him to stand straight and raise his head with pride. He made sure to sing the first song she taught him. Even if he knew none of the people present in High Ten understood Latin, he sang the melancholic melody anyway.

It was a song of tragedy, filled with lost and despair. Two lovers who found each other. A twist of fate. The death of one. Anger. A shimmer of hope.

Raising and lowering his voice, Seth heard, for a brief moment, his mother speak to him. Tend to the notes as if they were babies that needed direction, she used to tell him. Be patient and embrace even the brief silence that follows between and after them. My god, he could practically smell her.

The song drew close to an end. When it did, Seth finally opened his eyes, preparing to hit the final high note. A second later, he exhaled and brought it out of him. His trembling sound bounced off all the walls in the nightclub again. The longer he held the note, the more the mirrors and glasses in the club trembled violently. They began to crack. When he raised his voice just an inch higher they shattered into a million pieces.

The five judges shielded their faces from the shards of glass flying at them, drinks spilling on them. From the bar, the bartender ducked from his post, each of his cheap beverages exploding. The scene too surreal, everyone focused on protecting themselves from glass and other debris. Only one person still watched Seth, however, his expression sedate.

Dante slowly stood from his bar stool. It didn’t matter his beer spilled over his lap. Nor did it matter that one of the flying glass shards pricked his cheek. His eyes remained fixated on the stage across him. He observed the shower of electric sparks, all coming from the ceiling’s broken spotlights, rain down on Seth. The sparks twinkled brightly, turning white before eventually fading into nothingness. A small smile stretched at the corner of his mouth. To him, Seth was a deity, his face radiating with fire. Buddha, he was beautiful. He was the divine angel adored by the Devil.

Onstage, Seth noticed the look on Dante’s face and smiled. Granted, this would be the last time he’d pull a stunt like this ever again. In fact, he’d have to make it very clear to the judges he wouldn’t sing opera after this day. Still, Seth had to admit, this felt incredible. Back in the day, people fainted when they heard his voice. They came to him by the droves, demanding to hear it. It was good to know he still had it in him, even in this day and age where people drove cars and listened to their music digitally. Admittedly, the awe-filled looks he received gave him a sense of relief and fed his ego.

Seth took a short bow before exiting the stage. Many of the musicians he saw on his way to the dressing room caused him to chuckle. They were frozen in place, in a state of shock.

***

Half an hour later, Seth exited the club with his belongings, looking refreshed. A clean up crew walked passed him, carrying brooms and dust pans. He grinned, both ashamed and impressed at himself. Then he walked down a short flight of stairs to reach ground level. Dante waited for him at the street’s sidewalk. He offered Seth a slow smile. They met each other at the bottom of the stairs and kissed full on the lips, letting the kiss linger for awhile before breaking apart again.

“So?” Seth asked as they walked along the sidewalk. He adjusted the guitar on his shoulder a little. “What did you think?”

Dante grinned back at him. “Do you have to ask? I practically pissed in my pants. And I don’t even like opera.”

“Really, you liked it that much?”

“You’d have to be a clueless dimwit not to.”

The two men crossed a street and walked to a nearby restaurant, both of them famished. They took a seat at the smoking area, sitting next to a large window. Nearby was the mini bar, accompanied by a large television screen that broadcasted a basketball game. Their waitress arrived shortly, placing glasses of water in front of them. Then she left to give them a moment with their menus.

While Seth looked over his options, Dante stared out the window. He saw a sky painted with a collage of early evening colors.

“Well, no surprise, but the boys liked your performance,” Dante inserted and turned to watch Seth. “The manager told me he was severely impressed and definitely wants to see you in Showdown Night.”

“Really?” Seth grinned. He put the menu away and took out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one up, he added “That’s great. When is Showdown Night, by the way?”

“Two weeks from now, I think.”

“Perfect. I’ll definitely prepare for that performance.”

“I can’t wait. To hear you sing like that again, Seth, it’ll be worth attending the event. I’m sure everyone in town will be raving about you too.”

Seth frowned.

“You’ll be famous and get lots of network connections,” Dante continued, oblivious to Seth’s reaction. “A lot of doors are going to open because of your incredible voice.”

“I’m not singing opera again,” Seth stated as matter-of-fact.

“Huh?” Dante glanced at him side-ways. “Why not? I thought…”

“Today was a one-time deal.”

“So?” Dante laughed in disbelief. “Make it a two-time deal, then.”

Seth grew quiet.

“Really, Seth, everyone was raving about your performance. Like Frances told you, a lot of metal bands are eager looking for guys like you.”

“I’m never singing opera again,” Seth restated his stance.

His harsh tone suggested that this was not up for debate. Dante sat back in his chair, curious. Their waitress returned to place their order. As usual, Seth ordered a rare-done steak with Big Red while he opted for a cheesy burger and bottle of beer. After she left to fetch their orders, Dante stared at Seth.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why, if you got such a wonderful, powerful voice, and have a history in opera, don’t you sing it anymore?” Dante paused, waiting for an answer. When he didn’t get one, he added, “I mean, really, Seth… your voice is beautiful. I imagined it would be when you first told me about your opera-singing days. I just never imagined it’d be that incredible. It was fucking divine.”

Seth took a long inhale from his cigarette.

“So why’d you stop?” the investigator pressed on.

Seth didn’t answer immediately his question. Instead, he flicked out the ashes from his cigarette. His face was grim.

“It was no longer pure for me,” he answered at last, briefly looking up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I no longer sang from my heart. I sang to satisfy a need.”

“And what need was that?”

Seth sighed. He watched his cigarette’s smoke trail up into the air. “Listen, I’m real tired right now, Dante. How about we save this question for another time?”

“I guess. I just can’t imagine why a guy with your voice would quit. It’s obvious you love singing opera.” Dante stared at his cigarette. “Look at you now. You’ll fuck up your voice if you keep smoking those damn things. Unless…” Dante paused. “Is that what you want?”

Seth kept silent and took another drag from his cigarette.

Dante nodded brusquely. “Fine, fair enough. I’ll get off this topic already.”

“Thank you.”

Half an hour passed and they feasted on their meals. Even though he agreed to leave it alone, Dante was still consumed with questions. As much as he adored the man sitting across him, Seth was still a stranger; no different from the man he met for the first time in Bull’s Eye bar. There was so much he didn’t know about him. Each time he tugged at his past Seth reacted by pulling back. Somehow, his opera-singing days were a part of that mysterious past of his. What was Seth afraid of? Perhaps if they could become close again Seth would open up to him.

“You want to rent a few movies after this?” Dante suggested and drank some of his beer. “We could watch them at your place.”

Seth hesitated. He smiled but it was very weak. “No, let’s not, we could catch a matinee movie instead. My place’s a mess right now.”

Dante snickered. “So? You saw how mines looked. Lord knows what else is underneath my couch’s cushions. Hell, I’m scared to find out. Seriously, though, I don’t mind how messy your place is.”

“I do,” muttered Seth, sounding uncertain.

“What, your apartment’s roaches have mutated and grown three feet tall since I left?”

Seth scoffed. Then he looked up at Dante. “Please, let’s not go to my apartment.”

Dante was ready to throw down a remark but kept his mouth shut. Seth wasn’t in a humorous mood today. Then again, he tried to commit suicide just a few days ago so of course Seth wasn’t his usual, cheery self. As irritating as their conversation had become, Dante forced himself to be patient.

“All right, have it your way.”

Seth smiled. He stared at the evening sky through the nearby window. “Wow, look, Dante, isn’t the sky beautiful? Look at the colors. It’s totally retro.”

Dante only hummed in agreement. Then he frowned.

Seth’s remark reminded him of the sky during their bus ride to the amusement park. In trying to save Seth’s life two days ago he had nearly forgotten why he had come to his apartment in the first place. He drank some more of his beer.

“Seth… I need to ask you something.” Dante said afterward. “It’s very important.”

Seth raised a brow, curious.

“Like I said, it’s important. And it might be… a bit uncomfortable for you.”

Seth noted the tone Dante used. He stuffed out his cigarette and gave him his undivided attention. “Go ahead, then.”

Dante took a moment to gather his thoughts. He had to be careful. The last thing he wanted was to alienate or upset him, not when they just got back together. Seth never liked being asked too many questions. That much was certain. And there was no telling if he would answer any of them right now. Of course, if he did, Dante was afraid of what those answers might indicate.

“Where were you when you disappeared?” he asked at last.

“Disappeared?”

“On that night…” Dante began slowly, “The amusement park. You remember, right?”

Seth stared at him, puzzled.

“I went with you to the amusement park,” Dante further explained. “You went on your own after we arrived. When I saw you again you were with a young man. After we had… you know… the funhouse…” Dante stopped himself and instead asked, “Where did you go after that night, Seth?”

Seth’s face turned pale, even for his complexion. In a low voice, he said, “The Animal… You’re talking about the day you were with the Animal, aren’t you?”

Frowning, Dante stared at Seth. “What, you don’t remember that night?”

Seth frowned. “You were with the Animal, Dante…” He sighed and gazed out at the sky. “I should’ve warned you not to come by my apartment the last time I saw you. I should’ve warned you about the Animal.”

“Animal…?” Dante shook his head. “Seth, I don’t understand.”

“The Animal,” Seth said again, as if it made obvious sense. “He’s… a part of me.”

Dante studied Seth for awhile. “The Animal… A part of you?”

“Yeah, in more ways than one, I’m afraid…” Seth answered in disgust.

From across, Dante stared in silence. He still didn’t know what to make of this. Then again, Seth was an Other. There were abilities he possessed that he was still unaware of.

The Animal was a part of him, he said. Did that mean his Animal served as an alter ego, a split personality? Was his Animal the equivalent to his own Devil Trigger? Did he have an inner beast to contend with too? There were so many questions…

“No matter how many times I’ve tried to run away,” Seth continued, “I see the Animal not far behind. And now he knows all about you and…” Seth stopped and sucked on his lip.

Perhaps his suspicions were correct, Dante thought to himself. Perhaps, like him, the Animal was Seth’s inner beast, struggling for dominance. Unfortunately, if that was true, it seemed the real Seth, his Seth, didn’t recall his actions. Perhaps during his ‘Animal’ state, he blanked out while the Animal took control. There remained the question, however, on whether or not the Animal was linked to the black creature attacking people recently. Dante didn’t want to think the Animal was the same creature stalking the streets. That would mean Seth not only underwent a personality change, but a physical one as well. That would mean he was a blood-thirsty creature of the night that needed to be tamed or put down. Permanently. Jesus… He hoped he was wrong.

“You heard about the recent murders occurring in town, right?” Dante inquired carefully.

Seth remained quiet, still looking out the window. Then he nodded his head.

“According to the news, several bodies were discovered at the amusement park, on the same night we visited the park, in fact.” Dante leaned forward. “Look at me, Seth… I need to know something…”

Exhaling softly, Seth finally turned his head and stared directly into his eyes.

“Do you…?” Dante stopped and corrected himself. “I mean… does the Animal know what may have happened to them?”

Seth chewed on his lip. He seemed to understand where he was going with that question. It sucked the life out of him. In a soft murmur, he replied, “God, Dante… I don’t know what to say. I… don’t know.”

Dante opened his mouth but shut it again, unable to speak.

“I honestly don’t know,” Seth said again and his lower lip trembled. He sucked on it.

They stopped talking after that. Both tried to occupy their thoughts with their food but neither could stray away from the uneasy topic. It was embedded deep into their minds. Dante stared at his plate with a blank face. Even the strawberry sundae that followed afterward did little to release the tension building in his stomach. The silence between them only escalated that tension.

Dante wished Seth had replied differently to his question. In fact, he wanted Seth to tell him the Animal had nothing to do with the murders. He wanted to hear it was all just a coincidence. He wanted to go on with the illusion that everything was okay. But Seth’s response… it made him a prime suspect now. While Seth didn’t downright declare the Animal responsible for the incidents, he didn’t deny the accusation either. Suddenly, the red syrup of his strawberry sundae reminded him of blood.

“You realize things will never be the same for us again,” Seth suddenly inserted, as if reading his mind. “You know that, right?”

Dante looked up at him. Seth’s voice sounded strained.

His eyes soft, Seth continued, “Things are complicated. I think they were from the very moment I met you at Bull’s Eye bar.”

“I already told you it doesn’t have to be that way,” Dante spoke, finding his voice again.

Seth smiled. It was a sad smile. “You know it’s true, Dante. I see it in your eyes. Please don’t fight the obvious.”

Dante took a deep swallow.

“One of these days I’m going to ask you to trust me,” Seth later said, “Right now my head is so fucked up that I need to think things through. I need to reorganize my thoughts and decide what it is that I want out of this limited life I have. But please, Dante, I beg you, believe in me. Even when you have every reason not to, believe in me. I… may not be strong now. But I will be soon, with your help. I can overcome the Animal. I know I can.”

“Seth…”

“Please,” Seth urged and met Dante’s eyes, “I know you liked the Animal. I know he gave you what you wanted. But that’s not the type of man I am or ever want to be again. I want to be different, different from the horrible person I used to be. I want a happy ending, for me and for you.”

“You could lighten up a bit, though…” Dante inserted, trying to bring some humor into this dead-serious conversation they were having.

Seth sighed. “Maybe it’s best we don’t each other for awhile, at least until I think things through and figure out my next move.”

“Buddha, not that shit again.” Dante rolled his eyes. “Fuck it, Seth. We had this conversation before. We’re sticking together, even if I have to use fucking superglue to do it. We just… need to take things one step at a time.”

Seth briefly shut his eyes, appearing disappointed. He opened them and shook his head. “Damn it, Dante. You have to be one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met.”

“I can say the same for you too, prick.”

“Fine…” Seth sounded annoyed. “We’ll stick together. But you’ve got to promise me to stay away from the Animal. The Animal is dangerous. He will deceive you. He will do everything in his power to put you against me. Please, Dante. Beware of the Animal.”

“Jesus…” Dante erupted, laughing loudly. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound right now? Beware of the Animal? Christ. Have you been smoking pot recently?”

“I mean it, Dante. Stay away from the Animal.”

“C’mon, Seth…”

“I’m telling you this because I care about you. The Animal is a part of me and always will be. Because of that, that makes you a prime target.” Seth sucked on his lip. In a low voice, he murmured, “I suppose there are things I can’t deny forever. My trip here is proof of that.”

Dante studied Seth’s angelic features. He looked tired. In fact, Seth hadn’t been the same since the amusement park incident. Deep down, Dante felt the same way. He, too, felt exhausted and different, especially after the recent news. Yet, he refused to let it show on his face. He didn’t want Seth to see the concern he had over this entire situation, nor the inner turmoil boiling inside him. Both the forgiving lover and determined Devil Hunter inside him were at odds with each other right now.

“Don’t worry, Seth,” Dante said at last. “I can take care of myself just fine.”

“No doubt you can.” Seth paused. Then he reached across the table and touched Dante’s hand. “You mean everything to me, you know. I hope you never see the Animal again. And I hope you’ll believe in me, no matter what happens. You’d be surprised that there are some things in this world worth believing in. They just might change your whole outlook on life. And who knows, you may even see me in your dreams just as I see you in mine.”

Dante blinked. Then he started to chuckle.

“What?” Seth asked, frowning.

“That’s gotta be the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” he answered back, still guffawing. “Did you get that line from one of your stupid eighties movies?”

Seth sighed, sitting back. He was slightly hurt but smiled anyway. “You’re right. It’s stupid. Forget what I just said. Let’s finish our dessert.”

Dante still snickered and ate the rest of his strawberry sundae. Seth ate his in silence. Meanwhile, on the restaurant’s large television screen, the mayor made an announcement to the city: a curfew would be issued throughout the city, effective as of tomorrow.
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MONSTER