'Cuz it plays like an awesome fight song. Need I say more?

Thanks to all readers, reviewers, and adders. It really rocks mah socks! Special shout outs go to: Mariposa-Princessa, Shadow-of-a-Wolf, Phant0m, Ranchdressing , Shadow'sIllusionist, ninjaeris13, zenbon zakura, Mithral Rose, G. U. 3. S. S.

Thanks for the votes of confidence.

Please leave me alone
For I cannot let this go
It's the lie that I live
Everything that I give
Shut the fuck up!
Please tell me that I have grown
For I have bruises left to show
And I fall in between everything
Let me see
Come on get up
Let me see your bruises

—Unloco

Chapter 10: "Bruises"

"Damn," Vergil muttered. Trapped, was the only word that seemed to surface to mind as he focused on the nearly invisible form in front of him. The demon stood at around eight feet tall and was reptilian in nature. Its silhouette reminded him of some type of miniature Tyrannosaurus Rex. It very nearly grossed him out at how well and seamlessly the thing could blend into its surrounding. He shot another glance at Dante was still laid out in the gravel parking lot, as still as death.

Get up! He silently willed.

No. He couldn't be. Vergil would know if his twin had died. He was probably only unconscious, which was a scenario Vergil could live with at the moment. It meant that given his brother's healing abilities, he'd come around eventually. But when?

Nevermind that! The shrouded figure was closing in. It staggered past the boarded window Dante was knocked through. Vergil could barely make out its outline with the scant light refracting off its chameleonic skin. It inched closer with an overpowering aura. That in and of itself set off alarms in Vergil's head. How could a lesser demon feel so powerful?

Much stranger than any demon he had encountered before, Vergil would have had a vested interest in studying its physiology; but he had more pressing matters… like his survival. Vergil brought his sword up and around to make quick work of the unseen demon. Yamato parted the air molecules and shimmered in the semi-darkness. Such perfect form, so much power behind that singular stroke. A smirk parted Vergil's lips when he was sure his strike would part his enemy like the Red Sea. He could practically see the delayed blood spurts that were sure to be in the demon's near future.

Then something happened that Vergil would have never thought possible in his in wildest dreams… or nightmares for that matter. He missed. How was that possible? He never missed a target. Never in his short, but eventful life as the Dark Slayer. Could it be that senses were playing tricks on him? Sure, he could hardly see the thing, but knew it was in front him. Even a blind man could secure a hit at this range.

But he was sure that he had seen his blade slice through the monster's left shoulder and easily exited through to its right hip like a hot knife through butter. How could it have passed through it harmlessly?

It still didn't change that it was there, drawing closer with its oppressive aura. That air around it was so different. It was completely uncharacteristic of a lesser demon and more suited to higher level devil; a knight class perhaps. It nagged in his mind, causing more and more theorems to formulize in the young half-devil's mind.

Vergil had always been the one to actively pursue knowledge, even in the midst of battle. To him it was all one rapid cycle; study your opponent's moves, know them… commit them to memory and if and when all works well, you gain more experience for the next battle. And that was life to Vergil… the fight and journey to the next one and then the next. He applied it to slaying lesser demons that vied for his blood and even to school work. That made him more suited to be a real-life RPG character, if only for his vested interest in gaining more experience points.

With all the things he knew about war, one would think him to be the next Sun Tzu.

If anything, the boy was very much an experimentalist. He just had to test every theory that came to mind. He stood staunch in his stance once more, taking yet another swipe at the demon, but this time aiming for its head. Vergil made it a point to watch the exact spot where his strike would land.

Yamato was swung, once again slicing through its target. It was faint, but Vergil caught on. For the briefest of seconds, Vergil saw a yellow spark that appeared to be a magical rune. He figured it to be ancient powers at work; whether it was demonic or human in nature, Vergil had no clue. But some things made sense now. The thing was corporal; that was for sure… otherwise it wouldn't have been able to incapacitate Dante like it had. Secondly, it had to have been protected some entity. That was apparent enough by the phasing ability that it shouldn't have been able to have; that was an upper level power.

His mind came back to the devil theory. He smelled the higher-leveled devil all over it. It begged the question: If there is a stronger devil protecting this demon, then why would it send a in such a weakling to fight on its behalf? Other troubling inquiries soon followed. Why would a devil protect a lesser demon in the first place?

Then came the more disturbing revelation… Someone was watching him. He felt the unseen eyes, leering at him, scrutinizing each movement. He's testing me, Vergil mentally concluded. He hated this feeling. This feeling that someone else knew something he didn't. In his opinion, this type of thing should never happen. He hated that he was under someone's microscope; he should only be able to do that. He should be the only one to study and calculate the moves of his prey. He was better than that!

Vergil brought his sword up into a helm breaker. He knew that the attack would be fruitless, but that experimentalist reared its head again. He slammed the blade down with all of his might only to have deflected with CLANK as if he had hit a stone wall. The highlighted rune remained hovering above the demon along with rippling of some sort of an invisible force field. It waivered for a moment, revealing the demon's true form before it was once again sent into visual obscurity.

He's me keeping on my toes, Vergil assessed. If he wasn't fighting against an unseen devil's minion, he would appreciate the strategy. The devil had changed the spell in mid-battle and that was by no means a minor feat. That was something that took up immense concentration, stamina, and skill. They were qualities of which Vergil could only begin to dream. Liz had taught Vergil some magic, but this thing was light years ahead of what he was learning.

Vergil eyed its silhouette, before it and its overwhelming aura disappeared. To where? He had no clue. The boy quickly snapped out of the stance, cautiously circling about the room and casting a glance in every conceivable direction.

It was simply gone. He could no longer sense it, not even the unseen eyes from before. He'd asked himself 'why' countless times during the short scuffle. And the realization hit. Some things he figured prior to his recent epiphany. He laid the facts out into something of a mental checklist.

One, the demon sent in search of a half-breed, but it wasn't him or his brother. Two, the demon was summoned by a devil to do his bidding… whatever that may be. But why? Why not face him on his own? Could it be that it's a devil not quite strong enough to crossover to the human world? What was the significance of this half-breed he searched for? It would make sense that this nephilim he desired was unwitting to the power he or she wielded. More sobering yet was that one in question could be used to fully manifest this devil and his powers, unleashing hell on earth.

Then again, he could be jumping to conclusions. Maybe this unseen hand merely searched for a worthy adversary. Yeah, right.

There was a final question that made him freeze in mid-stride. What entity is that powerful that it can project its influence into the Human World, but so weak at the same time that it can't enter its physical being? He took a longer time pondering this one than any other question. There were indeed other forces at play here. Someone or something invited this thing in from this side! The next logical question Vergil began to touch upon was who or what.

The more questions that flooded in the more his head began to hurt. He wanted to play detective get to the bottom of it, but of the same token he had to drop it if he wanted to survive against this creature.

And ever the self-preservationist, he hatched an escape plan. He would make a beeline for the exit. Vergil sheathed Yamato moved to the doorway to exit the abandoned school. He found himself unable to move. His stopped with a hand firmly gripping the rotten doorjamb. His legs disobeyed him, remaining rooted in place. Every fiber of his being pleaded for him to save himself. It stood to reason that Dante could take of himself and the humans… Well, he could care less.

Still, something inside made him stay.

What are you doing? Run!His brain screamed. He wondered where the conflict came from. Was it his stubborn pride trying to coerce him into staying to fight an unwinnable battle or did he suddenly develop a conscience that made him feel bad for the humans upstairs. Surely he was no bleeding heart like his father and brother. Plus he saw the point of running, he truly did, after all it was a part of the rules of engagement he was brought up into. Hold your sword steady and strong, retreat only as a last resort.

He truly believed that it was better to die in battle than to live and be branded as a coward. But on the same token, this was the type of battle that warranted one to run and live to fight another day. Besides, if he had continued to fight and died, who'd take care of his bumbling buffoon of a little brother?

There was another pang of guilt that washed over him. He couldn't leave Dante to fight this thing on his own. He'd never forgive himself if Dante got killed over his selfishness. Also, Dante would continue to hold a grudge if any of his precious human friends were harmed under this demon's siege. He just knew. Then there was the matter of that half-breed the demon was looking for. Who was it? Which one of these humans were actually devils in disguise? He had to know. Maybe it would be in his best interest to stick around.

He moved to walk down the hallway and up the southern stairs. With his sword still drawn, he cautiously stalked his intended path. He passed the area where the main office and infirmary used to stand and froze when he felt that aura filling his senses. Before Vergil could even register the monster's attack, neural synapses fired causing him perform a quick back flip. And again when yet another swipe from an inbound claw near took his head off. Vergil had never been so appreciative of his reflexes.

Vergil stood on guard and eyed the way the creature arched its back and began a full-bodied twirl. He realized that it was going to attack with its tail. He blocked the first, which cause him to slide backwards at the momentum placed upon the half-devil. It took all of his lower body strength and balance to keep from falling.

The scaly, spiny appendage carved up the linoleum tiles and into the concrete foundation below it. It roared in frustration and once again a curled its tail into an overhead strike. The young white haired warrior dove out of the way in the nick of time, but not before getting his leg caught by the incursion. But that didn't give him a reason to stop and nurse his twisted ankle. More concrete and drywall rained down upon him causing him to see the monster briefly in the dust cloud. Vergil half limped and half ran to the stairs without further thought. As he neared the middle landing, his eyes widened like dinner plates when he sensed it right in front of him.

He knew he was fast, but damn this thing was no slouch either!

"Damn… Checkmate," he uttered, knowing what would happen next. He squeezed his eyes closed and felt himself go deaf. He thanked whatever merciful deity that muted the sounds of the monster's claws ripping and tearing at his larynx. The intense pain dissipated after a moment and the air desperately gurgling at the sanguine caught in his windpipe stopped. He felt a chill wash over his body and reopened his glacial eyes to see his warm blood spray against the walls. His body went limp and he fell backwards down the stairs, landing among the rubble created by the monster. And the half-devil laid there covered in blood, with eyes set in its unwavering forward stare.

-----

"Ow. My head," Dante whined as he came to. He held it as if it would stop the incessant pounding. He gave himself a minute before attempting to move from his prone position. He curled his body up on to his knees and gingerly rubbed the side of his face where the irregular grey stones that formed the parking imprinted themselves as bright red marks on his skin. Dante sucked in air to combat his aching head and bruised ribs. He stood to his full height and picked up Rebellion which lay a few feet from him.

He hefted it on to his shoulder and stamped to the school's front door. He kicked it in, sending into splinters. When the shower of wood subsided, Dante went to work at tracking down the demon that wounded his pride.

Dante crossed the school's threshold and stepped onto the marred floors. He was careful not to make a sound or walk among loosed rubble for fear of alerting the enemy to his position. He continued down the short hallway, but paused at the scent of warm copper wafting on the stale air. Blood, he surmised. He found that he couldn't take another step forward. Had the demon killed everyone already? Was he too late to save his friends?

He could answer that question himself just by taking another whiff with his acute sense of smell. If he wanted to, he could estimate just how many bit the dust with that skill alone. But he found himself too afraid. There were some things that he just didn't want to know.

Where's Vergil when you need him, he mentally asked. As much as he hated to admit it, he found himself using his twin as crutch to get through certain situations; more so, since their reunion years ago. But right now, he didn't care about all of that, he just need his brother there to put these fears to bed.

To his knowledge, Christians normally touted a small phrase in extreme faith-testing situations like this one. How did it go again? What would Jesus do? By now, he had begun to speak his own mantra into being; what would Vergil do?

Strange as it may be, Vergil was a role model he could look up at the moment. Sure he was a cold, ruthless bastard… but his machine-like approach to the proverbial gray areas that would only stand to stump Dante's human morality compass was nothing short of amazing. Perhaps he was right that one time Liz tested them.

"Imagine for a moment, boys that you are holed up in a room with several other humans. You are there to protect these already frightened people from the marauding demons outside of the door. You have found that there are simply too many to fight off and the only other option is to hide and wait until the demons give up and leave. An infant begins crying and you sense the demons drawing closer, attracted to its wails. What do you do?"

"It's simple," a fourteen-year-old Vergil was the first to speak up in a calm, even voice, "You silence it."

All three in the room knew just what he meant by silence it. "Wait," Dante replied while pushing back his rising emotions, "You can't just kill a baby! It's defenseless and hasn't had chance to live yet."

"All extraneous," Vergil casually stated, waving off Dante's reasoning, "The fact that it is young doesn't excuse that it will get you killed. It is merely a liability. You terminate the child to keep the demons from knowing your whereabouts. The point is to destroy one for the greater sake of many. In this case, the infant is expendable."

"How can you be so callous," Dante half shouted while failing to hold back the tears rushing to his eyes, "Did you ever think that the baby is crying because it's hungry? Maybe the mother is there and can feed it. Did you think of that? Have you exhausted all options first?"

Liz sat across from the two, silently moderating, choosing not to say a word since she explained the scenario to the twins. She took mental notes of the stark differences of the two boys. She slid her hazel eyes into Vergil's direction, unconsciously asking for his recourse on the matter.

Vergil sighed heavily, probably at having to break things down for his sibling, or more likely that it was because he under the woman's scrutinizing gaze. "Okay, I'll indulge you. Let's say that the mother is present and that the child is indeed hungry. What makes you think that the infant will refrain from its bawling once it is finished? After all, babies only know how to eat, sleep, cry and defecate on themselves. For that matter, think of how stressful the situation just may be. The woman would more than likely be unable to feed the child. In this situation, it's more than plausible that the child was already orphaned in the demon attack. It would not be able to feed for it is probably too young to be weaned off its mother's breast milk. It will starve and allowing it to survive under such harsh conditions is nothing less than prolonging its suffering. The child would eventually die, even if you went out of your way to save it."

"That's not right! No one has to die! You can't put a price tag on human life, monetary or otherwise."

"Why? Because you live in some rose-colored world where everything is hunky-dory? Get with the program, Dante. You have to realize that if you are going to hunt demons, there are bound to be casualties and countless deaths to innocents. Saving the child is tantamount to raising your sword against every other human in that room. Their blood will be on your hands. And even in your efforts, the infant will die… either because its defenseless form was ravaged by a demon or from starvation in its future. Whatever decision you make in this scenario, I'll be sure to burn a candle for the lost child and your bleeding heart." Vergil uttered the latter, hiding his pure disdain for the human condition.

"Vergil!" Liz called out at his insensitive statement.

The boy turned his attention to the middle aged woman, "Did you not call us into this debate to gauge our reactions? You must know that deep down, I am right. This is a clear cut decision; if you want to save all you must sacrifice one. I guess if you were searching for the more moral twin, then I have failed this test. I may not know what would go through Dante's head if he was placed in the center of this, but I'm sure that he would try all possibilities before arriving to my conclusion, no matter how cornered he may be or how bleak the outcome. I on the other hand, chose the simpler option with the greater amount of human lives saved in the end. So sue me if my definition of decency isn't to the same standards as yours."

Vergil pushed his chair back and left Dante to press down his boiling rage and Liz to think about just how cold and calculating he could be.

Dante shook himself to reality. Things would be far less complicated had he been more like his twin.

Yes, what exactly would Vergil do? Seek out the demon and destroy it? It did pack quite a punch. Would he run? Or would he put the remaining humans out of their misery? It stood to reason that his friends may have not survived the attack. It pained him to think that they all lay somewhere in the building breathing their last and mutilated beyond recognition.

He trekked through the stillness, growing more shaken that by the moment at the lack of signs of life. He subdued to impulse to call out to anyone. Like in the test, he feared having the demon drawn to him or worse yet, to his friends if they are alive. He stepped closer to the stairs, but paused in his stride when he heard a breathy, hissing sound.

His eyes grew to the size of saucers upon his realization. It was unmistakable. He heard it when he was younger when he watched his mother die. That unmistakable death rattle. He swore that he would hunt demons so that he'd never hear it again. He made it his own creed became that everyone deserved a peaceful death, free from being fodder for demons. Someone, somewhere below him was dying.

It unnerved him to no end. He began to finger the dimly glowing amulet under his shirt but promptly dropped his hands away from it as if it had burned him. In that instant, he knew who was trapped under the rubble. There was nothing scarier than just automatically knowing. But, he'd never dare to admit it.

"No," he whispered in denial, "Vergil."

To be honest, he would have never thought that in a million years, Vergil would fall victim… to well… anything. With all of his talk of being prepared for battle and true strength, it made it impossible for Dante to feel worry for his twin. He never worried about Vergil because he just knew that he'd come out on top. But to know otherwise, he couldn't fathom it.

Dante slid off the short pile of rocks and began digging through it at a frantic pace. He stopped when a pale, lifeless hand flopped from the pile covered in dust and blood. His entire body went limp and he slumped onto his bottom, frozen and afraid of what else he might find. He put a hand to his open mouth to muffle any squeal of despair that might arise.

Something deep inside pushed him into drive. He moved more rocks revealing the dirtied and bloodied mirror image before him. Dante couldn't bear to look into Vergil's glassy eyes, but there was no choice in digging him out; either to save him or grant him a proper burial. It sickened him even more to see Vergil's shredded neck with broken veins hanging out like arrant tendrils and the cracked white shells, which Dante took to be bone and cartilage.

He dragged Vergil out of the mound, adverting his eyes from the ghastly wound and trained on the amulet resting on his twin's chest. It twinkled slowly and dimly almost as if it were beating in time to a heart ready to peter out. It gave Dante some hope. It meant that Vergil still alive; just barely, but there was indeed something left behind those lifeless eyes.

What was Vergil's first rule? Be prepared, right? So that must mean that he had enough foresight to bring some kind of demonic item. Dante quickly searched Vergil's person for the possibility of a vital star. Alas, Dante was only able to come up with a gold orb and crystalline orb filled with Holy Water.

Dante growled in frustration at the uselessness of the two items. Both were no help. Vergil wasn't dead, so a gold orb wouldn't help in his healing and Holy Water would only hinder it. He supposed that he could wait until Vergil did pass away to use the golden one, but there were still no guarantees that it would work. Well, when in doubt, there's always blood to kick start a demon's regeneration.

"Shit," Dante sighed in exasperation, "Leave it to you to get your throat torn out and not bring the appropriate party favors."

Vergil's face remained unchanged from its stern expression.

"You're supposed to laugh, dickhead," Dante darkly jested as he slit open his wrists on the edge of Rebellion. He hovered them above Vergil's open wound and allowed his blood to drop freely into its abyss. Of course, his wrists healed after a few drops, so he'd reopen them and repeat the process until Vergil was better.

Guess, I proved V wrong, came the morose thought, It is pointless for half-breeds to self-mutilate. Therefore there aren't emo folks in the Demon's World.

More blood was introduced to Vergil's fallen form and Dante began to feel that tide of fatigue threatening to rush him. He watched as Vergil's neck slowly began to rebuild itself. He felt his heart swell in elation he spied his twin's fingers briefly clench and unclench. It was a start and he was already beat. If the demon came for them now, they'd both be done for.

He allowed his tired body a moment of reprieve as he lay against one of the stacks of rubble. Little by little, those brilliant blue eyes began to disappear behind his eyelids. They shot open once more when he heard a sharp intake of breath and pained grunt to his left.

"V," he cautiously began, "You okay?"

"Fucking peachy keen," Vergil retorted with the sarcasm fresh in his voice. Dante was truly relieved to hear that Vergil was okay... well close enough to okay. His voice took on a gritty, tinny quality as if he gargled on rusty nails and broken glass then decided to speak through a mechanical voice box.

Surely he would comment on it, if he had the energy.

"Hey, Dante?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad your sense of inappropriate humor remains intact as I lay dying."

"I don't make fun of your defense mechanisms. It's a good thing this place isn't on fire or caving in, 'cause we'd really be screwed." The two would have shared in a laugh if they weren't beaten by lethargy.

"You should know that the demon was looking for someone," Vergil stated, "I don't think its still here. I can't sense it any longer. It was looking for a half-breed, like us. For what reasons, I haven't the foggiest."

Dante didn't reply.

"Dante, one of your friends is that nephilim."

Just as Vergil did earlier, he came to the same conclusions and repercussion scenarios if this person was found out. He didn't make a gasp, or any response of surprise or emotion. Dante only pulled a cell phone from his coveralls and tossed it to Vergil. "Call the Miz... We're gonna need some help battin' clean up." Dante pulled himself to his aching feet, put his game face on and made his way upstairs.

------

"So, Dante rides off to kick demon ass," Lucia arched a skeptical eyebrow, "On compromised health no less. I've seen better from PG rated movie plots."

"Say what you want, babe, but I'm only speaking the truth here." Dante leaned back in his chair and shifted an eye to Vergil's direction for corroboration. The blue clad twin nodded in agreement.

"See... would this face steer you wrong," Dante crowed.

"Don't just leave it there," sat Lady eager to know more, "What happened next?" The trio of women looked expectantly at the red clad hunter who froze at being put on the spot.

Vergil took it upon himself to answer, "The demon had already left, probably called back by its master. The humans were safe while understandably shake at seeing the demon. Miz Liz arrived at the scene and erased their memories. She implanted new ones. They were sent off to their homes, believing that the old, decrepit building breathed its last and the crumbling foundation caused us to end our game early."

"Liz seems to have been quite the person," Trish added.

"Yes, very wise," Vergil replied, "She was able to handle many situations with an ease and finesse that even I envy. She was one of the few humans I wished to emulate."

"I think she'd be proud of you. Both of you," Lady said.

I just don't know any more. Reviews?