Dante's Angel (s) {Dmc Fanfiction #2}

Part 10

(Part 10)

It was a raining afternoon that he finally left the place. In fact, it was raining so heavily that he had almost immediately regretted his decision to leave the apartment that he had been living in for almost a month. He stepped out from the lobby of the building, and looked up at the dark sky letting up its load.

"You're supposed to be up there?" He muttered softly underneath his breath, frowning. "What a stupid place to be."

Still, he hunched his shoulders, pulled up the edges of his coat, and stepped slowly –one by one –down the short steps. The rain pelted on his head and shoulders almost as if signalling to push him back into the shelter. Some droplets hit him in the eye, and he cursed softly. Was Nature really being such a downer to him, particularly when he had finally decided to up and do something instead of waiting?

"You know, you're a real bitch." He said, but there was no one busy enough to be bustling on this rain-filled street. He spoke as if he were speaking to someone, but nobody was around to hear his words. "I don't believe I'm doing this. Ugh."

He imagined some prickly reply made back at him, even though the person he was speaking to wasn't physically around.

"Couldn't you have –I don't know –waited for a better season to go running out being an idiot?" He continued, still grumbling as he walked down the street. He had been feeling bare since he began walking around with his usual items, but now he was slowly getting his bearings back in place.

Hibernating for sixty-four weeks and sleeping for another four weeks tended to take someone off his bearings.

"I swear, if you've found him by now, I'm going to murder you." He continued speaking to his imaginary person, continuing down the street after making a quick turn. The rain was going to make everything smell so bad, but what the heck man. He was a half-demon; he could survive things like a stink anytime.

The journey to Devil May Cry was spent with him cursing and insulting his imaginary person, and he was out of the rancid, decomposing building in less than a minute as well, finally getting his precious weapons back. He was surprised to find a few more recently-dated bills lying on his front porch. He didn't realize that some people were still persistent enough to try asking him to pay his bills.

Still, he gave it all a shrug and walked back down the steps away from the stench. Having already experienced stenches of demonic blood, fluid and other substances that he rather not identify, the smell of decay meant little to him anymore as he continued in the opposite direction from where he came.

Getting to Hell wasn't the difficult part if he was a half-demon. He might not have Yamato, might not have Vergil's ability of randomly opening portals. But he was still a damn-good (at least in his own opinion) half-demon, and that meant that he was still amazing when it came to things like threatening demons into doing work for him.

Opening portals to and from Hell was something easy for some demons –particularly demons who were deathly afraid of him.

It didn't take Dante Sparda long to find someone he could sucker and threaten into doing so, and soon he was jumping through the portal of the worlds.

He might not know about it, but when he jumped through the portal, an angel turned his back on the scene with a smirk. The angel spread black-as-midnight wings, and took off in a clean swoop, exiting the stage unnoticed –the same way he had come. Things were going to plan.

One of them had gone down to Hell.

Three more to go.

Then he had an angel to kill.