The Night Chapter 2

The Night Chapter 2

Two yellow orbs shone from the dark space behind a bench, both intent upon him. The slit eyes wavered.

“Damn cat,” he growled with a sigh. “Trying to get yourself killed?”

The solid black creature gave a meow.

He settled his nerves and sat back down, but this time putting his legs on the whole seat long ways. It had been a long day and his body felt like a sandbag he had been carrying around the whole time. The cat waltzed over to him and jumped on his belly without a sound. He groaned, leaning his head back.

“Get off furball.”

It curled up and began to purr.

“I said get off you fleabag. This is your last warning before I have to forcefully remove you.”

The tail twitched and began to move its tip up and down. It was pretty content in its spot.

He grabbed it by the scruff and placed it on the floor. The cat jumped back on him and did the same routine for about an hour till finally one of them gave up. Sadly, the cat won its place on his belly. He was too wiped out to actually get up and throw it out the door.

“You better be gone when I get up, otherwise we’re gonna have a problem.”

He stayed like that, letting the night take its toll on his body. A darkness set in, covering him up to sleep.

Just then, a voice echoed.

“Do you crave more power?”

He jumped awake, heart pounding hard in his breast. The cat was off his belly and sat in the middle of the room where a stage light shone. Laughter erupted from the cat’s direction. It sounded familiar.

“Dante?”

“No, I am son of Sparda, twin brother of whom you name of.”

“Look, a talking cat.”

“Mockery will find yourself dead in this place.”

“Not if I kill you first.”

His hand went to his gun holster, but found nothing there. Red Queen, his companion sword, was missing also.

“It seems your weapons are absent, hm?”

Suddenly, Nero felt aware of this creature and uncomfortable.

“What do you want from me?”

“No. The question should be me asking you it.”

“I don’t want anything. So go on back to hell fleabag Son of Sparda.”

“Your arm says different.”

“It always tells me things. I’ve learned to ignore it.”

“Then tell me exactly why you refuse to listen to its pleas for power?”

“Listen here puss, I don’t know how Dante could have a cat for a brother but you need to get out of here before I kick you back home capiche’?”

“I’d like to see you try.”

This cat was starting to really annoy him to the brink of fierce rage. It was trying to start a fight. He moved, but then laid back.

“Forget it, you’re a waste of time.”

The room echoed with the son of Sparda’s laughter. “Oh you remind me so of Dante, all talk and barely any confrontation with blades. He was always… weak.”

“I think risking his life to save my butt from being Sanctus’s power source forever proves he isn’t weak. He doesn’t crave power.”

“The humans have made him weak. He wastes time saving their worthless lives instead of becoming a true devil. You do the same also, a wretched human live saver!”

“That’s it! Your ass is grass!”

He struck out at the creature and only found himself falling through a hole. The Devil Bringer grasped the edge, but caught hold of nothing instead. He fell backwards, then landed on the floor slamming the back of his head against the stone. The darkness came over his sight again, blinding him from seeing anything.

“Foolish boy,” the voice announced, “Now I will take you to the Hell you speak of and show you a world filled with power! Both you and that arm will be mine together! Then, I will answer its call and transform you into a true devil!”

“In your dreams pal,” he groaned.

“And that dream will come true.”

The wave of exhaustion hit him hard and he fell unconscious in that second. A manical, evil laughter filled his ears, giving him a sense that this wasn’t a thing to ignore anymore.

It was like dealing with a more powerful Sanctus now, one that would drown him in darkness forever.