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If this was purgatory, at least they tried to make you as comfortable as possible.
Dante sat at his favorite perch, on his favorite stool in his favorite haunt. Nightmare's attention to detail was impressive; it had recreated Bobby's cellar down to the last scratch on the bar surface. The air was thick and hazy with the ghosts of chain-smokes past, the smell, only the occasional out-of-place slug serving as a reminder that this was not real. It all made Dante nostalgic, even though he knew the circumstances were nefarious. He sat staring into space, Force Edge propped up by his side, Ebony and Ivory on the counter. An unconscious Ifrit slept around the base of the stool in a more reasonably sized Dragonoid form. The sound of sliding glass broke Dante from his trance.
'heh, would you look at that. Least in the afterlife they're feeding me well'.
Chicken thighs and a strawberry sundae slide into his field of vision; at least, it SMELLED of chicken. He tentatively picked up a thigh and bit down on the hot flesh. Thank God, it WASN'T a slug. Dante's manners were feral, Alastor would have probably given him an earful if he was present. He growled as a slug crawled a little too close to his food, swatting it from the bar angrily. It was only then he noticed the blade pointed at the back of his neck. Dante's eyes widened. He knew that energy signature anywhere. And so he should, he'd been impaled by Vergil on this blade more than enough.
Yamato?
The air went ice cold, the thick smoky smog evaporating.
'No.....no no not this memory. Anything but this'.
'You' A curt voice cut the atmosphere like Yamato itself 'I've got a feeling you're the strongest guy here'
Dante bared his teeth, a chicken thigh still dangling from his jaws. He looked over his shoulder and snorted. 'Of all the messed up horrors Nightmare could've plucked from my brain....of course, it had to be you didn't it.
......
Bandage Boy'
He spun around, turned, eyeing his opponent up and down. The bottle green suit, the bandages, piercing red eyes, the head tilt, that stupid head tilt that used to get on his nerves; Nightmare had recreated Gilver down to the last detail. 'I'm impressed' Dante was unphased by the sword pointed between his eyes. 'The god of slugs clearly has taste!'. He reached for that strawberry sundae. Gilver smacked it away, coaxing a distressed gasp from Dante heard the glass break. 'That's crossing the line Bandage Boy'. Gilver slashed out with Yamato, Dante dodged the blade with elegance, hearing the metal sing as it parted the air molecules millimeters from his face. It made perfect sense for Nightmare picked this memory as the menu of his torment. Gilver had been Dante's partner in crime, the phase could be used quite literally, back when he'd been a mercenary operating under that other name....what was it...Tony! that's what he'd called himself, Tony. Dante still used the alius to this day; 'Tony' was especially useful if he wanted to go dark, though his big mouth usually gave him away. In the end, it turned out later that Gilver was a twisted and barely recognizable incarnation of Vergil. This fight, the one Nightmare was eager to recreate here, had been a final showdown. Dante swallowed hard. He knew what was coming, but he didn't know if he could survive it again. After all, this was a fight that had nearly killed him. Then again, Dante was beyond caring, if this was going to be his fate, he might as well accept it, and at least, not go out without a bang He bit down hard on the chicken thigh, splintering it, shards of bone cutting into his lip making it bleed.
'Well then........if this is how it's gonna be'. He wiped his lip with his fingers, smearing the blood on his face like childish war paint. 'THEN I'M ALL EARS GILVER!'.
Dante snarled and launched himself, Force Edge drawn. The two met, locking swords; Dante growling and baring his teeth as he took the strain. The faint splatter of the blood from his lip could be heard over the sound of the blades grinding like nails on a chalkboard. He bit his lip viciously, making it bleed more freely. He lapped up the blood, the taste was addictive. It was like a drug. Dante didn't even care it was his own blood, the taste was such a turn-on.
'You're being awfully quiet Bandage Boy, come on...I kinda want to speed this along before this eldritch turd starts to liquify my guts!'
He risked taking a hand from Force Edge to briefly gesture mockingly. Gilver hissed in response. 'Come on!.... let's hear those dulcet tones, you have a beautiful singing voice'. He found himself reasserting his grip on Force Edge, something WAS riling it up, the blade was throbbing. 'Awwwwww you're making my sword horny WOAH!'
With a bone clicking and splintering noise, Force Edge extended; it was morphing! Gilver and Dante broke the sword lock with the latter staggering under the weight of the evolving Force Edge, which now resembled a large switch-axe like scythe. Dante had to stifle a laugh, this whole setup Force Edge had taken for itself resembled a juicy rack of ribs. He smacked his lips mockingly. 'What is that?!' Gilver hissed 'That's not fair Tony!'.
'HEY!' Dante snapped his fingers, pointing at him 'No stealing my lines'. He twirled the reborn Forge Edge elaborately. Though it was now easily twice his size, the blade was light. Dante grinned 'I think I've found my favorite souvenir from hell'. He swung Force edge gracefully, catching Gilver in the stomach. Dante was stunned.
'Wait...really...that's it? that was too easy!'.
This should be tearing him up inside, having to kill his brother...again. Maybe he was so done with Mundus' trickery by this point, or he was taking comfort in the knowledge that after all, this was an illusion. He reached for Gilver's face.
'Come on Bandage Boy, lets see that pretty face'. He tugged at the wraps but recoiled in horror as Nightmare's squashed head glared back from within the bandages. Dante staggered back as Nightmare screamed in his face, rearing up as the wraps reformed over Gilver's face as it tried to reassert its connection to Dante's memory. But Dante had no intention of letting THAT happen.
'Like hell i'm going down without a fight!' Dante roared, throwing himself into a tackle.
Gilver hissed as Dante hit him with the full force of his weight, sending them both toppling. He lashed out with Yamato slicing deep into Dante's spine. Dante yelped as he felt his back split, blood pouring from the wound, and a nasty draft where his vertebrae were now exposed to the ice-cold air. His teeth chattered. The two toppled into the bar which collapsed beneath their combined weight. Dante managed to roll to free but Gilver was already back on his feet. His heart sank as he found himself staring down the double-barreled muzzle of a shotgun; THAT shotgun.
'Here it comes, this is it'.
The slugs, this time of the bullet variety, hit him with awesome force and ferocity and within such close proximity, blood, tissue and shards of bone coated the environment. Dante was deaf to the world, time seeming to stand still. Then, when the shock wore off, he let loose a gut-wrenching howl, agony mixed with grief. He didn't look down, there was no need, he knew everything from his ribs down was pretty much gone; no amount of Trish's magic orbs was going to fix this. Gilver stood over him, emotionless, save for a little satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with his handy work. Dante spat blood at him, it had lost its appealing taste.
'Fuck You'.
Gilver tossed the shotgun and stood over him. His body contorted as Nightmare broke through its disguise and dived for the gapping hole in Dante's body. Dante instintivly threw his arms up to push Nightmare back.
If he could just reach that shotgun...
'DAMMIT LADY! DONT DROP ME! THIS IS WHY I HAVE TRUST ISSUES!'
A blast startled Trish so that she nearly dropped Alastor. She'd followed Nightmare back into the underworld after it had attacked Dante, where the device had abruptly deactivated. For reasons unknown, she'd stayed with it. Was it guilt over what she'd done to Dante? curiosity? What was wrong with her? Since she'd picked up this eyeball cronching idiot she couldn't drag herself away.
Nightmare convulsed violently, screaming. Its damaged core clearly visible through an exit wound in the shell. And there, shotgun in hand.....
'Oh man' Alastor chuckled. 'Watch out lady he is PISSED!'
Dante had a death stare on that could only be described as if looks could kill. He had Ifrit to hand, Force Edge slung over his back. His front was a mess though. The shotgun hole from the conjured Gilver running from his ribcage down to his waist was clearly visible. What was more disturbing was being in the underworld was amplifying his healing abilities. Trish watched as his body started to rebuild itself before her eyes.
'I've had enough of your bullshit' Dante growled. Alastor was right, he was REALLY angry. 'You tried to pull my heart out........So forgive me if I feel justified that pull yours!'. In perfect sync, Ifrit and Dante reached together, grabbing hold of the power core. While Dante pulled, Ifrit burned. Nightmare screamed again, its flesh blistering as it burned. With a final tug, Dante wrenched the core free. Nightmare's flesh exploded with force, rocking the foundations of the cavern. A large chunk of carapace boomeranged missing Trish by inches, but smashing into a nearby pillar. Alastor took advantage of the chaos to throw himself free. The pillar groaned and began to fall. Trish barely had time to react before a red blur shoulder slammed into her, knocking her clear as the stone crashed to the ground. Trish's ears were ringing, her vision blurred; she could hear panting as her vision refocused. Dante was leaning over her, doing that his feral heavy breathing routine; his mouth slightly open, eyes fixated. He saw her eyes twitch and grabbed her by the throat. She gasped, surprised at how strong he was. Trish tried to pull him away but Dante used his weight against her as she squirmed.
'DEVIL'S BITCH!' he screamed, voice cracking, full of emotion and anger. 'WHY!? I TRUSTED YOU!..... TRUSTED YOU BECAUSE YOU LOOK LIKE HER!'
Trish stared blankly up at him. He was coming apart and the seams. Years of bottled-up grief and anger were bubbling to the surface and Dante was too exhausted, too spent, to hold it back. All that bravado, the jokes, the ego, all that wit, was gone. Here was a man breaking before her eyes. He reached for Ivory with his free hand and pressed it to her temple, the barrel was whistling in anticipation.
'DEVIL!..... YOU MAY LOOK LIKE MY MOTHER BUT YOU ARE NOTHING LIKE HER! YOU HAVE NO SOUL!..... YOU HAVE HER FACE.....BUT YOU'LL NEVER HAVE HER FIRE!'.
He paused, sucking in the air and sighing heavily.
'Which is why.......I can't kill you'.
He withdrew Ivory and relaxed his grip around Trish's throat before collapsing on top of her with an exasperated sigh, knocking the air out of her own lungs. Dante just lay there, shuddering and whimpering.
'curse you'.
He rolled off when Trish tried to pet him comfortingly, shuffling over to the spot where Alastor was. 'Here' He mumbled in a soft but distant tone, refusing to make eye contact with her. 'take Woozy and get yourself out of here, before I come to my senses'. He shuffled away down the cavern, dragging his feet and shuddering and it didn't take Trish realize. Was he crying?
'Dante?..........Dante?'
She started to go after him.
'let him go' Alastor stopped her. 'he needs space. but you fucked him up real good lady. I've never seen him this bad'.
Dante dragged himself off to a nearby cavern and abruptly collapsed into racking sobs. He didn't care who or what heard him, he just needed to let it all out. He curled up into a ball trying to make himself as small as possible. So this was Nightmare's revenge? A spiked muzzle on his back startled him.
'Little Sparda?'.
Dante flinched. 'hey Ifrit, I heh I'm sorry you gotta see me like this. it's very unprofessional' he said weakly.
'nonsense' Ifrit shook his head. 'Do you really hate her?'.
'huh? who?...Trish?'.
'obviously, Little Sparda, unless you got more ladies stashed that I don't know about'. Dante smiled weakly and sighed. 'I have to don't I' his response curt 'Cerberus told me I should go with her, cause of how she looks, she'd probably know things about my mother. And what did I find? only pain, betrayal and death. She's as bad as the rest of them!' He sat upright, eyes wide, his brow furrowed. 'And I had sex with her!'. Ifrit shook his head again, holding back a chuckle; Dante's reaction to getting laid was priceless.
'you haven't answered my question though Little Sparda. do you REALLY hate her?'. Dante was silent, Ifrit had him here, he didn't have an answer.
'Let this old piece of furniture give you some advice' Ifrit continued. 'hate is easy, anyone can hate. You could say, I hated Nightmare. But did I really? Hate is a strange beast. Some thrive off it. It may seem like a good outpouring of anger but hate is passion. hate is destructive, and consumes, tearing you up inside. I know you don't hate Trish, because you didn't kill her' He tapped Dante's forehead with a claw. 'Something inside that head of yours stopped you from pulling the trigger. Despite all that she's done you still were prepared to give her a chance; which makes you better than HATE! Master the hate, and the balls in your court against those would play on those emotions to destroy you, like Mundus'. Dante smirked.
'you were a philosopher in a previous life weren't you'.
A loud cracking sound startled both of them. Dante started, eyes wide. He knew that sound anywhere; it was Alastor's distress call. He hurried back to the chamber where Nightmare's shell was still smouldering. Alastor lay sprawled on the ground, one wing bent crookedly, clearly broken or at least sprained. More worryingly, there was no sign of Trish.
'Daymn Woozy I told you two to take care of each other not beat yourselves up!' Dante joked, but it wasn't a joking matter, this was serious. Alastor only let off that sound if he was in danger. 'what happened?'.
'we got jumped' Alastor raised himself up off the ground rubbing his spiked head. 'freaky looking demons with masks, and eyeballs and not the edible kind. They had fists Dante! FISTS! and they knew how to use them! I feel so violated!'.
'Nobodys' Ifrit hissed 'the predatory hyenas'. Dante bared his teeth. 'Trish?'.
'They dragged her off. Look Dante I know you must hate her guts right now but....death by Nobodys is no way for anyone to go. Maybe we'll get lucky and she gets killed in the crossfire'.
'Now's not the time for hate Woozy....besides....hate is an overated lie'.