Warnings: Eventual D/L, Violence, Blood/Gore, Strong Language

Disclaimer: I do not own DMC, and I make no money from this story.

It was around seven in the morning when Lady rolled over and sighed at the old analog clock sitting at her bedside. She was never one to sleep late; she believed in being punctual and following a proper routine. Normally, she would already be awake at that hour. However, she had quickly found that the guest bed at Devil May Cry was not a comfortable one.

Lady had been pleased to find the bed wasn't as disgusting as she expected. Trish had stayed there recently, Dante informed her, and she had taken it upon herself to refurbish the bed with a whole new set of sheets. The duvet was a pearly pink and decorated with little buttons here and there—like the backrest of Dante's leather sofa. The sheets and pillowcases were white satin that glistened in the artificial light. Really, the bed made Lady question Trish's taste for décor. Maybe it would have looked nice in the right room, but in the drab guest room, it looked obnoxiously tacky. Maybe Trish was unaware of how horribly garish the bed looked in such a simplistic room, or maybe she wanted to pretend that when she was sleeping in that bed, she was sleeping in her dream room and not what looked like a renovated walk-in closet. Truly, the incredibly small size of the room made Lady feel a tad claustrophobic, but the room was the least of her problems.

Though Trish had purchased new sheets for the bed, she hadn't replaced the mattress. Lady wondered how old the thing was. She would have asked Dante if it was the same mattress he slept on in his childhood if she wasn't afraid of stirring up his worst memories. She probably didn't need to ask Dante, though, to guess correctly that he had snagged it from his old home. It whined every time she moved as if pleading she stop because she was actually causing it physical pain. When she laid upon it, she could feel springs stabbing her in the ribs and shoulders. It was made ever more uncomfortable by the fact that it slumped in the middle from never being flipped as a mattress should. She had tossed and turned through most of the night, barely gaining a collective three hours of sleep. Lady longed to sleep a for a few more hours, but she knew that evil mattress would never grant her anymore sleep. It had given her all it wanted to give.

Lady rolled out of the bed, almost tempted to bounce on it a few times as if doing so would cause it actual pain. She wanted revenge either way, and she made note to burn the mattress as soon as she earned enough money to buy a new one. She was dismayed every time she remembered that she was flat-out broke because she had to pay her stupid landlord for the damage that demon caused. Luckily, however, she had a job in a few hours, one that had sounded as if it would take quite awhile to solve by the man's description over the phone. She was to attend a brief meeting with him at ten before heading to the building where the demon that she was to exterminate resided.

"In that case, I better get ready," Lady whispered to herself. I only have three hours.

Lady's first stop was the shower. She walked past Dante's bedroom on her way by and snickered when she heard his light snoring. He was a quiet sleeper, but his breaths were deep and loud—loud enough to be faintly heard beyond his thin bedroom door.

At least someone's getting some sleep, thought the woman with a roll of her eyes. She wished she had slept in Dante's bed because he was making it sound delightfully comfortable. Then again, he was Dante. That man could sleep through anything, and he wasn't even a deep sleeper. It was almost as if he was a "selective waker," having some sort of seventh sense that allowed him to discern whether or not a loud bump or the feeling of a presence nearby was actually a threat. Lady supposed that was probably true. Being as alert as he was, if Dante hadn't adapted a method of filtering out meaningless sensory information as he slept, he would probably be woken up every few minutes. Lady had learned, after all, that a devil's senses were sharp enough to hear a pin drop, taste the air, and see through scents alone. Dante, though he was a half-demon, was no exception.

Lady smirked, happy that she wouldn't have to slow herself down by trying to keep from waking Dante. That was one of the many reasons she hated living with other people. If their schedules didn't meet up perfectly, roommates were forced to respect each others sleeping habits and try to keep quiet as death. Respectful roommates, anyway. Lady had lived with people before that seldom cared whether they woke someone up or not as long as they were never bothered when they slept. The few roommates she had had in the past had totally turned her off of ever living with anyone. After she established herself in the illustrious world of hunting demons, Lady hadn't needed roommates; she only found them in the first place to take the burden of half of her rent off her shoulders. However, now that she did have to live with someone, she was happy it was Dante. Besides those occasions when she couldn't convince him to stop talking, Dante was a very quiet creature.

Lady gathered some towels from the linen closet, setting them on the bathroom counter. She stripped and laid her clothes out neatly on the counter. They were still clean, so she wasn't going to bother changing into a whole new outfit. She opened the shower door, about to step in, eager for a few relaxing minutes under the warm spray. However, she froze in her tracks when she saw what awaited her in the drain. A fuzzy clump that she was certain was alive stared back at her from the tarnished silver drain. It was a wad of brownish gray pubic hair that had probably been there long enough to evolve and become sentient. Luckily, it hadn't reproduced in any way, but she was expecting it to split into two identical tufts of coarse, scraggly hair at any moment.

"Oh, my god!" she exclaimed in a whisper, twisting around in a show of disbelief and shock as if someone was standing behind her to share in her disgust.

He didn't even bother to clean the shower? !

After finishing her shower and dodging the wad she had dubbed "Fluffy," Lady vigorously brushed her teeth, staring at herself in the foggy bathroom mirror. Then, she moved on to fixing her hair, and her morning routine was finished. She made her way downstairs, a little unsettled with the newly found discovery that Dante's carpet didn't match his drapes. She brushed that thought to the back of her mind, choosing to ignore it. Maybe Fluffy was just a haunting apparition that would disappear if she stopped feeding it her blatant disgust and fear that it would become tangled in her toes if she didn't carefully hop around it during every shower.

Rolling her eyes, Lady found the yellow notepad that was always on Dante's desk so that he could record addresses and important details when someone called about a demon problem. She plucked the cheap, red pen from the desk and made a huge scribble in the corner of the paper until the ink started to flow smoothly. She then jotted down a brief note to inform Dante of where she had gone.

Dante,

Gone out on a job. Should be back by 12.

-Lady

P.S.-Clean your fucking shower!

The ominous estate loomed over Lady like a disgusted god observing a tiny, futile insect. The estate was beautiful—or it should have been. The mansion was a classic white Victorian, but far larger than any building she had ever seen built in that style. The eaves were accented by elegant webs of wood, but she could only imagine terrible, ugly spiders calling their graceful patterns home. Sharp spires towered from the rooftops, and Lady imagined being impaled upon one. Rose bushes flourished all over the dark green grass, sporting healthy, full blooms, but she could only notice the sanguine of their petals and the sharp thorns that jutted from their stems. There was a fountain in the courtyard with an angel sitting pretty in the middle, but dark trails lead down her pallid cheeks. Had she been crying? The entire perimeter was surrounded by a wrought iron fence with more sharp points jutting from its top. The estate should have been beautiful, but it was as if perpetual storm clouds hung over it, painting everything gray.

Lady felt uneasy as she walked up to the door, her boots clicking on the cobblestone. She peered into the darkened windows of the highest floor, unable to see past the glass, but she could have sworn she saw a silhouette staring at her from between the tasseled curtains. Lady cursed the knot in her stomach, telling herself she was only imagining things, that her lack of sleep was making her delusional. However, that failed to explain why the hairs on her nape were standing on end.

Lady approached the grand doors, grabbing the heavy iron ring in a fierce lion's teeth and knocking three times on the door. She heard the knocks echo inside the mansion, and she imagined how empty the foyer was. The huntress stepped back, waiting for her knocks to be answered. A pasty white statue of a pineapple sat on a pedestal beside the door, a symbol of a welcoming home. It ceased to make her feel any less unsettled and uninvited. She glared at it as if hoping it would say something to make her feel better, but her attention was drawn abruptly away from it when the door finally opened. A stately man appeared from behind the white door. He wore a black suit and his trembling hands were hidden in pristinely white gloves. His expression was icy yet practiced as if he was told not to show emotion. He had a long, thin nose, all the better to point up at her. He was old, and his hair was white, combed over to thinly cover his balding crown. However, he was still a tall, strong looking man, his steel gray eyes almost intimidating. Lady couldn't help but find him snooty, but he didn't seem to be trying very hard to act friendly. He gave her a once-over as if sizing her up before speaking in a deep but listless voice.

"You are here to see Master Lannister?" His words carried the accent of a Brit, but they were slow and gravelly. She recognized him as the one who had called for her services. Whoever this "Master" Lannister was, he must have been incredibly lazy if he couldn't make his own phone calls.

"Yes," she answered, feeling as if she should say more, but Lady could think of nothing to say to the man. He was quiet for what seemed like a minute before he finally spoke again.

"Please come with me," he replied before stepping aside and gesturing for Lady to step inside. She nodded in thanks before stepping in out of the range of the door. The butler closed the door softly behind her before taking the lead and walking off down a long corridor between two flights of half-moon stairs. The floors were comprised of beautiful slats of dark mahogany. They were polished and glinted like new, but their tired creaking every now and then told Lady they were fairly old.

The butler eventually stopped beside a wide archway and gestured for her to step inside. He told her to please have a seat to wait on Master Lannister, and she sunk into the plush, rosy pink cushions of the camel-back loveseat. The room smelled of dust, and Lady was fairly sure she had stirred up a cloud of it when she sat down. She glanced behind her to see that the butler had disappeared, but she heard metal rattling a few moments later and turned again to find him shuffling through the archway with a silver tray. He placed the tray on the mahogany coffee table before her and then disappeared again.

Lady stared at the silver tray with hunger in her eyes. She had skipped breakfast because she had a long drive to that place and didn't have the time to stick around for even a bowl of cereal. It wasn't like Dante had anything edible other than pizza in his kitchen. Normally, Lady wouldn't touch the food her clients offered her because even though they selflessly set it out for her, she still somehow felt rude taking any of it. However, her hunger, she thought, might get the best of her that time. Little swirly, sandy cookies sat neatly on a small square of wax paper, cradled in a shallow, white dish. Next to the dish were two empty teacups and saucers of that same eggshell white. The teapot was the same color but a relief of a rose stood out on its side. Steam floated out of its spout carrying the warm, floral scent of tea. A small glass cup held sugar, a tiny silver spoon submerged in the white crystals. There was a small pitcher near it that Lady assumed held milk. Everything looked appetizing, and it was the most pleasant sight she had seen since she had entered the mansion.

Lady plucked one of the cookies from the dish, examining its golden tan color and the light browning of its peaks. She poured herself a cup of tea, adding a few spoonfuls of sugar and a tad of milk. She wasn't one to drink tea often; coffee was simply more popular in her part of the world. However, she did enjoy it when she got the chance to drink it.

As she waited to speak with Master Lannister, Lady sipped her hot tea and ate a few more cookies. She tried dipping them into the tea as she was certain that was what they were intended for, but she discovered that she much preferred them dry. They were salty but lightly sweet and had a slight nutty taste to them. The texture was smooth but powdery, feeling like the silky sand they shared their color with. She was a big fan of chocolate, and she would have loved if they were chocolate chip rather than shortbread, but they helped calm her appetite. That was for the best because it was taking Lannister quite some time to come in and start their meeting. It would be a few hours before Lady could get a proper meal.

After drinking two cupfuls of tea and eating three cookies, Lady sat with her legs crossed, tapping her fingernails on her knee while she stared out the window at the fountain outside. She briefly wondered why there were no chirping birds or flitting butterflies or any signs of life at all in the desolate courtyard. She was interrupted, however, when a violent shiver tore its way up her spine. A nervous knot coiled in her stomach, and Lady suddenly felt that she was being watched. The huntress scanned her surroundings, twisting this way and that to see if someone might be standing in the archways, but she found no one. There was no one standing outside the window either. She was totally alone, yet it felt as if someone had sat down on the couch opposite her.

Lady was startled when she heard footsteps and turned to see a portly, round-cheeked woman tip-toeing into the room. She gave Lady a slight smile but it was void of anything but indifference. She seemed almost hopeful as she scrutinized the huntress, but her expression was icy as if she doubted Lady could fulfill her hopes. She waddled over to the coffee table and felt the teapot with chubby fingers.

"The tea has gone cold," she said incredulously in the voice of a melancholy Mrs. Potts: one of Lady's favorite characters from The Beauty and the Beast when she was a child. "I'll go prepare a fresh pot for you, miss."

Lady smiled at the woman. She couldn't help but find her cute like some sort of doll out of a set of figurines from another era. She wore a cobalt blue dress that barely left her shoes peeking out from beneath with a white, pleated apron and bonnet to match. She looked as if her cheeks should have been rosy, but like the butler, her skin was pale, almost sickly. She carefully picked the tray up from the table and waddled out of the room to the rhythm of the dishes rattling against the silver tray. Lady sighed, wishing impatiently that Lannister would meet with her so that she could get to work. She wasn't fond of the estate. It had a gloomy atmosphere about it that was quickly making her feel depressed.

Like a siren signaling his presence, Lannister entered the room to the distant shrieking of a teapot. Lady was instantly unsettled by the toothy smile he gave her. His teeth were jagged and the cracks between them browned by coffee stains. His nose was crooked like a bird's beak and his ears pointed like some sort of goblin's. His eyes were sort of beady, lacking any color. It appeared as if his pupils had taken over his irises. His lips were ruby red, standing out unnaturally against his greenish, pasty skin. Deep, purple circles sunk in beneath his eyes, and his hair was thin enough that she could liver spots mottling his scalp. His fingers were bony and their nails yellowed and overdue for a clipping. He wore a suit similar to the butler's but with a rose pinned over his heart, looking as if he had plucked it from one of the bushes outside. He was obviously very old, and Lady felt a little ashamed for finding him creepy. Sometimes old people just looked creepy for some reason, possibly because they reminded mortals of what awaited them in old age. However, Lady couldn't help but feel that his creepiness was not due to how old he looked. He reminded her of Dracula from the old movie. No, actually, the butler reminded her of Dracula. Lannister reminded her of Nosferatu, who was far creepier in her opinion.

"How are you today, Miss... ?"

"Arkham," she choked out, that name sticking like cotton in her throat, suffocating her. She hated that name just as her first name, just as anything that reminded her of her father. "I'm doing great, thank you. And yourself?"

Lannister smiled that creepy grin of his as he finally finished his shuffle to the couch across the table from her. He looked so brittle that Lady felt she could knock him over if she sneezed in his direction.

"I feel as good as a man my age can," he answered gleefully in his raspy falsetto tone before breaking into a fit of laughter that sounded like someone stomping on bagpipes.

"I'm sorry that I kept you waiting, Miss Arkham. I was engrossed in the most fascinating book, and I just had to finish it before I spoke with you." Lannister spoke slowly, drawing each syllable out more than necessary. Lady had noticed that a lot of elderly people spoke that way.

"That's alright. I'm in no hurry," she lied. She wanted to leave something terrible. "Let's get down to business."

Lannister nodded, gazing off at the corner as if it was telling him what he should say to her. He clicked his tongue a few times and scratched at his nose before the words he needed finally came to him.

"Mr. West informed you of what has been happening, I presume," said the man with almost the inflection of a question.

Mr. West—he must have been the butler. Lady shook her head, replying, "Actually, no, he didn't. He only said that you needed to meet with me about a demon problem."

Lannister nodded comprehensively. "Well, I hope you don't mind hearing it from me. I tend to ramble on in my old age!" Lannister uttered laughs that turned into coughs before clearing his crackling throat. Lady smiled at him once he had regained his composure, silently indicating she seldom minded hearing the story from him. Rather,she pitied him. He seemed incredibly lonely, so maybe what he needed was someone to listen to him ramble.

"About... a few weeks ago, I believe, it started. And in my precious library, of all places," said Lannister sadly, sounding as if he would cry. "I started to notice, when I would sit in there and read, that it felt like someone was watching me."

Lady nodded, suddenly far more interested than she had been, for she had felt that same sensation simply sitting in that very room.

"I didn't think much of it," said Lannister with a shrug and purse of his trembling, red lips. "I thought that maybe my niece had come up with a new game of peeping through the keyhole. But then my niece went to stay with her father for the week, and I thought that maybe it was Mr. West or Mrs. Porter, the butler and maid. At that point, I was thoroughly irked. I didn't want someone spying on me all hours when I was in the library, distracting me from my books!"

Lady resisted the smile that tugged at her lips or the chuckle that wanted to break free. She was taking the man seriously, but it was obvious in the dramatic way he explained things that he was enjoying telling his story. He spoke as if speaking to an audience at a storytelling convention, and just like a storyteller at such a convention, he sounded very rehearsed. Lady laughed inwardly at the image of the feeble man standing in front of a mirror and reading his story from crumpled notecards.

"But they go home on the weekends, you see. Then it's just myself and Jennifer—the kind woman who watches me when I'm to be here alone. But I still felt as if I was being watched, and I knew that every person I had hired couldn't possibly be spying on me. So I got a hunch then that something strange was definitely happening, but I kept on staying in my library because if I didn't, how could I get to the bottom of things?"

"Anyway, I started noticing that books would be left out that I never touched. Now before you call me senile, most of those misplaced books were things I've never needed like dictionaries, encyclopedias, and some of my niece's childrens' books. I may not have the best memory anymore, but I know I didn't get those books out because I had never once used those books. They were... 'space fillers,' if you will. I used to read to my niece, but she no longer asks me. She reads to herself now. But besides all that, I just brushed it off as my niece rummaging through my books."

"But then, things started happening that I couldn't explain. I would always feel a presence when I was very clearly alone. I could see people standing from the corner of my eye, but when I turned to look, they would be gone. And then, one day, I was standing near the mirror as I slid a book back onto the shelf. I saw a dark figure appear behind me, and my eyes shot up to the mirror. I only saw it for a split-second, but it was the most terrifying creature had ever seen, and I knew then that I had to call someone about it."

Lady nodded. "So this has been going on for quite some time?" Lannister nodded in confirmation. "Have you noticed anything new since you called me?"

"Yes, actually. It seems the demon is getting so bold as to come out of the library. And when it does, it seems it's trying to play pranks on me like some troublesome child. It would be endearing if it weren't for my fear that it will take it too far. Even if it hasn't physically harmed anyone yet, I do not feel its intentions are benevolent."

"And you're probably right," Lady replied. "Demons are rarely good."

But some are better than humans, thought Lady fondly, the image of a certain devil floating into her mind.

After a long moment of silence, Lady asked, "Could you take me to the library?"

Lannister pursed his lips and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. It seems the demon doesn't want us to come in today."

"What do you mean?"

"It seems he is holding the door shut. Incredibly strong fellow," Lannister said in admiration. "The door is antique and quite fragile. I'm afraid I will not allow it to be forced."

"I understand," Lady replied, suppressing a sigh. Had she come there for nothing?

"I'm sorry you had to come here when you won't even be able to investigate the library. I had no idea this would happen. He must have overheard me calling you here," he whispered cautiously. Lady wanted to quirk a brow at his behavior. That last statement stood out strongly to her not because of what was said but how it was said.

"If you come back tomorrow, I'm sure the door will be unlocked then."

"Alright," Lady said with a nod, "I'll be back around the same time tomorrow."

Lannister smiled. "Thank you, Ms. Arkham. Will you be leaving now, or would you like to stay for more tea?"

Hell, no!

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'll have to turn down that invitation. I have plans." It wasn't entirely a lie. She had planned to spend time with Dante at some point, and since she had no other jobs for the rest of the day...

"Thank you again for coming by, and farewell. Mr. West will show you out."

Lady turned to find the stone-faced butler standing in the doorway. She said her 'goodbye's and 'thank you's to Mr. Lannister before following the butler out the way she came. Even as she exited the mansion to the courtyard, Lady still felt an incredible weight bearing down on her. In fact, it seemed to get far worse when she stepped outside. The huntress rushed for her bike sitting on the opposite side of the tall fence, and the moment she stepped off the manicured lawn, she felt that she could breathe again.

Something's definitely not right with that place... I've got to talk to Dante.

A/N: If you've already read this before, you know it's not a new story. I had to take it down because of the MA content policy. Long story short, I changed my plans again, so I'm putting all my stories back up again. Just thought I would include that here in case anyone was wondering what's going on.