Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry. I don't own the characters of Dante, Trish although lord knows I'd sell my very soul to own Vergil.
AN: I wrote this story whilst possessed. As in waking up at four in the morning and starting to type. I have in total 39 chapters so far and am still editing with the help of my wonderful Beta. Special thanks to the Icon of Coolness. Now, since I have not played DMC4 it will not factor into this story. Frankly, I wrote this way before it came out. Now...I have seven chapters edited and ready to post but after that it may slow down. I'd like you opinions and flames as always are welcome. If I've made a mistake, of course I'd like you to tell me. But I treat a flame like a chapter treasure hunt for mistakes. So now that that is out of the way. Enjoy. Mind you this is not chapter one. This is just the prologue.
All he felt was pain; torturous, agonizing, unrelenting pain twisting his soul on a level far beyond anything the physical body would have ever been able to endure. He'd failed in his mission; and his master, instead of destroying him completely, had chosen to punish him.
In this place of blackness, this endless empty void, he relived everything he'd been through time and time again. The few memories he had, returned with a haunting presence and reeked with the stench of his own guilt. Over and over they continued to warp into various forms in his mind's eye dulling whatever linear thought he may have once had. Unable to force the feelings aside, they cut into his very soul staining his very essence with thoughts and images that would be forever kept alive; and would sustain his barely recognizable sanity throughout this life and the next. Visions of all that he'd done, all that he'd almost done were clearer now than they'd ever been. He was in his own personal hell and yet the part of him that had broken the chains of Mundus's power over him, still pushed against the shackles of his prison.
Even though Mundus had tried to purge him of his memories he'd held onto enough of himself to recognize his family. To submit to his brother. Spare him. No matter how hard he tried, Mundus hadn't been able to strip him of his soul.
So he suffered unending torture and humiliation under Mundus's thumb for what seemed like an eternity.
Then it stopped. Just like that, the power that held him was gone. His unbreakable prison nothing more than a thin pane of fragile glass. In an instant he was free, his thoughts his own, his body returned. His memories reordered in his mind.
The ether around him shifted and he felt himself returning to the physical plain. Gasping for breath. He was alive. He was Vergil once more.
The dinky office was claustrophobic, and made even more so by the stench of cheap cigarettes, booze and some unknown foreign perfume. Jamie had learned long ago not to care. Mike was, despite his sleazy appearance, one hell of an agent.
He'd gotten her a job with the city's biggest dance schools and during the summer she was the star of the evening performances. Though it could be said it was actually her that aced the auditions, she would never have seen the door if it weren't for his contacts. He was usually so full of fantastic advice. Usually.
"I won't do it! There is no more discussion."
The balding man wiped his face as though his hands would somehow erase the worry lines etched into his overly tanned skin. He was worried; Jamie was probably one of his greatest clients. No doubt that with her name to his credentials he had his choice of business. One of the biggest up and coming Ballerina's and she didn't even look at toilet paper without consulting him first. Though he could admit it was more than that, she was one of those people that seemed to bounce back no matter what life brought. He respected her as a hard worker, someone who didn't shy away from long hours. When her parents had been killed she'd been left with her little sister, along with a demanding job and more stalker like fans than most Hollywood celebrities. Jamie was a tough one. Speaking of stalkers.
"This guy is a nut job...you gotta take care of yourself. Some self defense classes wont hurt either...this whole thing has gotten way out of control. If you don't call the police..."
Jamie wasn't going to go into this again. With her sister in the house she wasn't going to entertain the notion of a gun and she would loose her job if she gained any kind of extra weight.
"Every time some creep sends me some weird notes, you do this. What makes this asshole any different than the last twenty?"
Mike couldn't deny that she was right. The only problem was the twisting gut feeling that something was going to happen. Something horrible.
"Listen, JB, I got a very bad feeling. I know what I'm talking about!"
Her face was unflinching, her brown bangs shielding her eyes. Her mouth pulled tightly into a thin line. Mike knew when he'd lost.
"Fine...I give up...we'll do this your way but I don't want you to go anywhere alone. Even a single hair on your neck stand up you call the police...got it?"
Jamie gave the man a curt nod, hesitantly followed by a smile filled hug. The older man always felt a little awkward at her open shows of affection. With a devious smile she opened the door to Mike's version of a goodbye.
"Stay safe kid."
The sound of the gunshot didn't even register in the slender woman's ears. She just stood staring into a hate filled face. At that instant her vision began to swirl around in one quick, streaking flash of sideways movement ending with what she thought was a surreal glance at the windows near the top of the ceiling. The minutes seemed like seconds and her vision swam with images she couldn't identify and sounds she didn't understand.
Her agent hadn't had a second to think as the man standing in the doorway put a bullet in his client and ran off. She'd stood there for a few seconds after he'd ran, before collapsing on his office floor with the strangest blank look on her face, as though she didn't even realize what had happened. Bleeding profusely and in obvious shock, he'd watched the woman slip away.
Jamie shot up out of her bed shaking. The night she'd been shot had been the final straw in her ironically tragic life. It would be now that she would make dramatic changes in how she lived, after feeling beaten by circumstances beyond her control. She'd been in the hospital for so long that they replaced her in the performances, and when she finally regained consciousness she had no choice but to take a permanent job as an instructor in the school. Suddenly obsessed with safety she took up Tai Chi and bought herself a gun. It was that short period of her life immediately after the shooting, when she abandoned everything important in her life to focus on her younger sister. The person whose life had suffered the most between the two of them so she could have her career, the one person who'd been there when she woke up.
Everything in her life was now routine. Wake up, take Justine to school, go to work, pick up some groceries and collect Justine from school. It was mindless, all done to the same rhythm day after day. When her sister had no school she'd take her places. To the park, the Zoo, on bike rides, all in a desperate attempt to be remembered as more than a substitute for her parents. Her sister never knew she'd chronic insomnia and never noticed the way she tensed around other people. To Justine she was the greatest; more than a sister, a best friend. Only an adult mind would quickly put all the pieces together and reveal to them that Jamie had developed various anxieties in regards to unfamiliar people and places. These anxieties were most likely the reason she had no adult friends. To her everything foreign brought with it a new and unforeseeable danger that Jamie had to calculate. Even Justine's friends had gone through rigorous screening.
While she worked to give her sister everything; her own life suffered in a way none could imagine. Most would call it living in some kind of purgatory. She was a shell, an image of a person and nothing more. Her soul was like a chunk of ice, frozen and nearly lifeless. Pain a forgotten memory and pleasure an illusion meant to distract her from her responsibilities.
Her car stopped out side the school and she calmly waited for her sister to emerge. A normal Monday routine. Usually the doors would be flung open and Justine would come charging down the steps like a bull. Today there was nothing. No wild, wavy brown hair bobbing up and down, no book bag being lugged around like a ton of bricks. Jamie waited for about a half an hour but no one came. Fear began to tug at the corners of her mind. Yet she held herself together for another fifteen minutes before panic got the best of her.
Jamie practically left the car door open as she rushed into the school. It was now her wavy brown hair bouncing around and her turning stomach that felt like the ton of bricks. Her heart beat in her throat as she raced along the corridors. To her horror Justine's class was empty, as were all the classrooms she peered into as she hastily traversed the corridors; searching, for the one and only being that meant anything to her at all. Her senses nearly stung with intensity as she sought out any clues as to the whereabouts of her sister. Despite her efforts and after what seemed to be hour-long minutes she still found the halls to be devoid of life or movement of any kind.
She was about two breaths away from a panic attack when she ran into a Janitor who pointed her toward the Gymnasium.
The first thing that struck her was the soothing melody of classical. Like a broken addiction, the sounds entered her mind like a drug and struck a chord of emotion within her that longed to be heard again, and yearned to play in concerto with the sweet music she was now hearing. Surprisingly she had found something from her past that for at least a moment in time could sooth her. It was unfortunate though that these same memories, for as glorious as they were, just happened to be the source of her emotional pain. There was a sadness that crept upon her as she reflected back on a time in her life that will never be again. With all of her mental fortitude she pushed back the pain and continued her quest in having to find her sister.
Slowly and with silent steps she opened the door and slipped inside. In an instant she was whole again. Her once fragile world, rebuilt again in all the glistening splendor that she'd grown to adore. It was a dance recital. There in the center an over worked, obviously tired former student twirled and leaped as she had once done. A mirror image of her own, now faded, grace. The dancer, whom Jamie had recognized as a girl called Nancy, disappeared off stage and it was flooded with all the younger dancers, Justine one of them. Jamie was fixated on the scene recognizing herself at that age, the same love of dance could be seen lighting Justine's eyes and ushering her feet in time with the music. For so long Jamie stood there in a trance. Captivated by the nostalgia of it all.
If it was even possible, her heart sank lower than before as the music stopped and the performance ended. The roar of applause fell on deaf ears as she stood there, her world shattered all over again. It was only when her sister re-emerged off the side of the stage and noticed her that she forced on the smile that still fooled the ten year old. In a matter of moments she was almost plowed over in a bear hug.
"Did you see me dance...did you?"
Jamie smiled but only at her sister's happiness, only for her. She wouldn't ruin this moment for her.
"You were fantastic...really."
The young girl beamed in a way that Jamie hadn't done in years.
"Now...why don't you go and say goodbye to your friends and I'll meet you in the car."
The girls face became a picture of guilt,
"You're not mad?"
Jamie gave her sister another hug.
"Don't be silly...why would I be mad?"
Justine beamed before breaking the hug and handing her sister her pumps.
Her sister hopped, skipped and jumped all the way to the other dancers who hugged her and squealed in a typical girlish fashion. Jamie just stood there clutching the pumps 'til her knuckles where white and her hands where shaking, waiting patiently for the dance instructor who was weaving around people on her way over to her.
"Such talent...your sister is an incredible dancer, is she not?"
Jamie's face could have been made of wrought iron, her expression was dead.
"I do believe...you need my permission before you enroll a ten year old into a dance class... Miss?"
The woman didn't grasp the underlying annoyance in her tone. Her English was perfect but emotions tend to get lost in translation. Had she noticed the shaking hands of the woman she might have left the conversation for another time.
"Herity...and don't worry it is paid for by the school... I honestly never realized that the great Jamie Bloom's sister was such an equally talented dancer. I didn't think you'd mind."
The woman was warm and casual. She paid little heed to the fact that Jamie hadn't taken her eyes off her sister to even look at her. Well, she hadn't until the woman said that.
"You thought wrong!"
The woman tried to speak but Jamie cut her off before she could form a single word.
"And no...I don't think I'll be signing her up for lessons with you. She only has to ask me and I'll make sure she's tutored by the best. Not some faded, money hungry, half wit. You seem to forget who you're trying to con here.
After all, I've been in the business long enough to spot a 'has been'."
The woman was overwhelmed, blank confusion quickly turning to anger. The burning rage making her cheeks redden and her earlobes go pink.
"How dare you speak to me like that! I've...never in my life...and has been? If anyone is a 'has been' it would be you!"
Jamie's stare seemed to silence the woman. For a moment her dark brown eyes shone like black onyx and her lightly tanned face became pale.
"That dancer...the one in the recital...she pulled out of my class two years ago because she said that her new dance instructor could get her more practical experience...that she was cheaper. She had such potential...now look at her. What you've reduced her to. Overworked and under paid..."
The woman was absolutely silent. Her anger was mixed with irrational fear and pure shock.
"Don't delude yourself into thinking that those sloppy excuses for Pirouettes could get her anywhere. We both know you've ruined her career...had she stayed in my class she'd have already gotten an invitation to perform in Russia...If my sister wants to learn to dance...I'll teach her myself"
Justine had waited for her older sister to finish with the dance instructor before running over to her and giving her another hug. In an instant the dark mood evaporated and Jamie was nothing more than a lovable sister.
Hand in hand they strolled out of the Gym. Down the corridors Jamie listened enthusiastically as her sister pointed out various trivial things. Leading her on a full tour of the school.
"That's Miss Muldoon's class. She's really mean; she gives loads and loads of homework. Look...that's our biology class they have a snake in there and all."
Jamie smiled and encouraged her younger sister. She paid enough for private school; it was nice to know it was money well spent. In the back of her mind she considered complaining to the principal about the instructor. Those people where like leeches, parasites and they rarely gave up that easily. They targeted the talented youths and their naive parents with promises of fame and money. She'd seen her share of them before, parents taking kids out of her class because those people where marginally cheaper. Talented kids thrown into low budget productions too early, driven to destruction because they have no clue how to deal with the adult problems they're left to face on their own. Children forced to grow up too soon.
The large wooden doors at the exit creaked open and the two of them were blasted with the chilly evening air. Stepping out into the brunt of the cold, the pair left twin sets of foot prints in the crisp new layer of snow lining the ground as they headed towards the car park. A few steps down the stairs and Jamie's grip on Justine suddenly tightened, her mind thrown into a state of panic.
Her car, she'd parked it right outside but it was nowhere to be seen. The patch of ground free of the light falling snow the only indication a vehicle was ever present.
Jamie slapped her palm into her forehead realizing she left her keys in the ignition when she got out to chase down Justine. The blow combined with the icy air sending a sharp pain through her skull. As she stood on the sidewalk cursing her stupidity, her sister started to shake. Startled by the trembling cold hand she immediately took off her jacket and placed it over her sister's shoulders. Even though Justine wore a heavy coat she'd very little tolerance to the cold being a city kid. She'd never had to trek through the snow to get to school. The MTV generation and the wonders of central heating.
Jamie had left everything in the car, her phone, her purse. It was such a stupid mistake to make. She practically put a sign on the roof that said "rob me". That and her little tour around the school meant that they were the last people roaming the halls of Pritchard's Private Elementary. While there might still be a Janitor around and she could ask to use the schools phone there was no-one she could call. Any other time she would try and call the police, unfortunately they tended to not to turn up this close to sunset for anything other than a national emergency. If she called them the chances anyone would come where extremely slim. To wait longer would mean walking in darkness.
"Looks like we'll be walking home today. Get a bit of fresh air,
how bout that?"
Justine gave a cute pout and Jamie couldn't help but be slightly concerned that they'd be left walking the streets at night. Strange things happened at night and the reason they'd so few homeless had nothing whatsoever to do with poverty levels. People disappeared all the time except no-one asked any questions, not even the police. It was very risky but she couldn't think of anything else to do.
"Big baby...come on. We'll be home in no time and then we'll get pizza and I'll make you some hot chocolate."
This was answered with a loud "whoopee...can I have sardines?" Jamie cringed at the thought of fish on a pizza but nodded along anyway. Dance was probably the only thing they had in common.
The sun had started to go down and the uncomfortable chill had become a deadly cold. Even under her sister's jacket Justine was shaking. Jamie too was freezing to the point where she couldn't feel her fingers and toes but they were so close.
"How much... farther? I'm... cold."
Justine' teeth where clattering and Jamie was racking her brain for a shorter route home.
"Very soon...I think I know a short cut."
Jamie, against all her common sense, against every fiber of her being that was screaming about the risks, took her sister off the main street and down a side street. The route would take about fifteen minutes off the journey but it was through a derelict part of town. If it wasn't for her sisters uncontrollable trembling she wouldn't have entertained the notion. Panic makes fools of us all.
The streets became unnaturally quiet and the slightest rustle began to make Jamie jump. Considering her predisposition to anxiety she was doing well keeping it together. Truth be told, if it wasn't for the fact that her sister was beside her she'd have been running down this street.
"Keep moving...come on!"
Justine was slowing down and a slow non weather related chill was creeping up Jamie's spine.
"JB, I'm...getting tired"
Jamie swept the girl into her arms and picked up the pace. Slipping occasionally on a patch of frosty pavement, the light snow gathering on her hair and shoulders, the feeling of unease slowly increased. By the time she rounded the next corner she was running. The blinding red light and the high pitched shriek stopped Jamie in her tracks and sent her heart skyrocketing into her throat. To say it was like nails on a chalk board would have been a lie. It was an animal-like sound, with nothing human capable of reaching quite that high of a pitch; and the smell, that too was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It was like weeks old rotting meat. It made her want to vomit.
There was a moment when she almost wanted to look behind her, for just an instant, just a quick flash of curiosity. But she honestly didn't want to know what was capable of making that sound.
She did the only thing she could, she just ran, the cold and the route completely forgotten in her haste.
After a few minutes of mindless racing her arms began to ache and the stitch in her side became so unbearable she had no choice but to slow down. Looking around she spotted a gap in the fence of a nearby dilapidated factory. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime she put Justine down and directed her wordlessly through the hole. Justine passed cleanly through but Jamie caught herself on a stray piece of wire. A piece of torn clothing and blood hanging from the fence, the only indications of life. Inside Jamie checked on her sister. She'd been unusually quiet and her face was sickly white. She was icy to the touch.
"Come on...you have to stay awake...you hear me!"
Her sisters eyes where fluttering but she snapped them open, spotting something over Jamie's shoulder. That's when Jamie caught it. Again; that horrible smell.
She turned slowly and came face to face with terror incarnate. When you dream of monsters as a child you understand the feelings of dread, sudden raging fear. Seeing this was like reliving your childhood, you felt so weak, vulnerable in the face of something bigger and scarier than you'd thought possible. The Thing was like a melding of flesh and sand. Rotten and disgusting, it made bile rise in her throat and her hair stand on end. It carried a large grotesque looking weapon, rusted and twisted, somehow resembling its master in an extremely warped sense.
Jamie had never taken her wild bulging eyes off it, not even as she forced Justine behind her back did her gaze waver. She retreated slowly, shielding not only her sister from the creature's path, but the sight of the monster from her sister. Anyone who saw that would see it every night for the rest of their life. You'd never sleep again; Jamie knew she wouldn't for sure.
The creature stalked the pair slowly, delighting in the fear and anguish, the doubt and the fleeting sliver of hope. It seemed to be feeding on fear as if it were a drug, and this…thing, whatever it was, was completely addicted.
Jamie could sense the amusement, practically feel the humor. This wasn't just kill or be killed, this was sadistic, demonic. The word lingered in her head. A demon? Yes, she was one of those people that had heard of such things, but like most, if it didn't interconnect with their lives it got pushed into the 'bullshit' category.
"What...the fuck are you?"
She actually laughed at that answer, that was until she realized it'd come from another creature. This one looked like it had come straight out of a horror book. The horns, glowing red eyes, covered in black armor and a rather wicked black scimitar at his side.
It took Jamie by surprise and made that fragile hope of escape shatter like glass. Now that there where two of them her chances just went from slim to zero. All that went through her mind was, that if anything else, she could at least give Justine a chance at escape.
"You're not a God..."
Jamie whispered to Justine who clung for her life at her sister's back.
"Sweetie...when I tell you, you're gonna run".
She could feel her sister's grip tighten almost painfully on her scratched side. Sudden fear breathing life back into the child's fading form.
"You do what I say...you hear...you're gonna run and you're not going to look back. Keep running."
Jamie picked up the remnants of a broken pipe left discarded among the litter of the factory floor.
"Gods can't die."
Like she'd been told Justine ran to the door. In all of Jamie's movement she'd put the only exit at her rear so there was somewhere to run. As she thought that her sister at least stood a chance the Sand monster disintegrated and a moment of terror struck at Jamie's very heart. With no consideration to the demon she still faced, she turned to face the exit just in time to watch the Sand Demon materialize in front of her ten year old sister and strike.
Her scream stemmed from both emotional and physical pain. Jamie had turned her back on the black Demon and he'd put a knife in it. Burying it to the hilt, just to the right of her spine.
Jamie slumped to her knees as the blade was removed, her hands resting in the ever growing puddle of her sister's still warm blood. All of her emotions, poured out of her in time with Justine's life. Then she heard the laughter, haunting, as though several different voices were laughing at the same time. All of them laughing at her.
The pain subsided as her body went into shock. Some ridiculous voice in her mind reminded her that pain lets you know when your alive and it's when you should be feeling it but can't, that's when your screwed. It was a good piece of information but ridiculous because she had no illusions that the wound was anything other than absolutely fatal.
Her mind was racing, everything she'd lived for and it had been cut down in a handful of horrific moments. These things had made the last three years of her life absolutely obsolete; meaningless.
With the strength of the dying she pushed herself up off the ground, her own blood mingling on the floor with that of her sisters. The end of a family line.
"We're not through...Demon!"
That single word held so much venom, so much hatred, the thing actually took pause. Turning around it looked at her with an uncertainty and maybe a flicker of confusion that spurred her on and made this pointless effort, seem at least a little worth while.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you..."
The creature, faster than human eyes could possible see, lunged toward Jamie and caught her by the throat. The spikes on the black gauntlets, cutting deeply into the skin on her neck as he lifted her off the floor. Unfazed, she spat out as many insults as she could think of before finishing it off.
"You don't frighten me; I've already lost everything that mattered..."
She coughed up a little more blood spitting it in his face whilst she stiffened her jaw against the growing pain. The creature lifted her up further and brought her close to eye level. The putrid stench of his breath wasn't half as sickening as the smile filled with sharp razor teeth.
As he held her there trying to size her up, her hands reached out and gripped the hilt of his very own scimitar. Fumbling with the release she yanked it free and swung upward with all her might. The creature dropped her while leaping back. Her attack carving a deep line into his chest and leaving a coating of black oily blood to drip off her hands and down the blade.
The thing was literally fuming. Shock and anger cracking the mask of superiority he'd worn.
"Didn't expect a fight...well fuck you!!"
The horned Demon didn't retaliate, instead sending the weird sand thing in first. It dematerialized and despite her obvious short comings in martial arts she knew enough to recognize this things tactic. At the last minute she spun around and before the creature had even fully formed behind her, she'd sliced it in half. The blade glowing slightly as it severed the thing at torso level. It turned to sand at her feet and didn't reform. Not repeating her last mistake she was facing the last Demon, sword in hand. He seemed to regard her for a second before smiling and pointing to the sword she held. She could have sworn she heard. "Demon blade...little human" but the creature's mouth hadn't moved.
The sword had begun to grow hot, to the point of burning her. Arms wavering with the effort she held on. After a few moments her whole body was shaking violently, like tremors they radiated from the sword.
She heard it but not with her ears. It echoed in her mind and she felt the pulse of life within the very blade. It was a living weapon already equipped with a master. Speaking in her head, it was describing how it would kill her. Just one problem with that though.
"I'm already dead...so just give me a minute and you can do what you want then; it won't matter"
The tremors ceased for the moment as though the sword was considering her response. She'd stumped it, caught it so off guard it might have actually been amused.
The black demon seemed to sense the change in the sword and took the moment to attack. After blood loss and the wound that was slowly killing her, her movement wasn't even close to dodging the knife that he plunged into her abdomen. His smug smile returning she gave him a blood filled one of her own.
She was still gripping the Demon sword tightly and with all the years of emotional walls crumbling she plunged the sword into the Demon and collapsed to her knees. The sword began to glow again and although the Demon tried he couldn't forcefully remove it. Staggering back he gave a howl before the sword caught fire and he was engulfed in flames.
Jamie watched as his body disintegrated and the sword clattered to the floor. She was so weak she could barely even see straight, let alone cough out her apologies to everyone she'd wronged; her sister included. All she could do was watch as a figure gracefully dropped from the rafters. She'd never even seen him arrive which could only have meant that he'd been there all along. Watching and waiting in the darkness. If glares could kill, the look she gave the white haired angel in blue would have left nothing but a pair of smoking boots.
A series of blinding red flashes and more of the creatures had appeared. Seemingly bored, the man just stood there waiting and at the last minute he cut them up like Sushi. He could have helped them, saved them; these things weren't even close to a match for him.
He'd finished the monsters in about five seconds flat and now he was just staring at her. Vague detachment, a little regard, but mostly just a cold calculating stare. There was a merciless cold in those unnatural blue eyes of his, piercing. As though he could see into your very soul. Had she not been so close to death she'd have been a little afraid of those eyes. As it was she was wondering why she wasn't dead yet. Surely after everything, she'd already be gone.
A few more seconds of thought and she came to the conclusion that the blade still resting in her stomach was keeping her here. It might have been holding a lot of blood in or it might have been designed to keep its victims alive, who knew.
Her hand slowly inched its way up from the floor and rested a moment on the knife before trying to dislodge it. Funnily there was no more pain, only a sense of discontent and some hollowed out anger and rage. Had she more strength she'd have tried hating the blue eyed devil in front of her but she didn't. Couldn't find it in her; not now. Not after this. She already had enough self hate to last her a life time. No need for another target.
After an endless struggle the blade came free and she toppled over. Her eyelids were slowly closing as her body gave in.
Still the man stared. Long after the body had stopped oozing blood from the various cuts she probably never knew she had, he'd watched. As though he were waiting for something to happen. In fact, something had happened.
He couldn't find any other way to explain what he just saw.
Finally standing up from his crouched position he made his way over to the scimitar on the ground. Picking it up by its handle he tested its weight. Moving it around in a few maneuvers before a searing heat jolted up his arm and he had no choice but to drop the blade. His mask of disinterest shattered and he looked to the still body of the woman before talking off his coat and wrapping the sword in it.
It was one of those days. Resting in his mind was the thought that despite her inadequacies in battle she'd lasted longer than he'd have guessed. Still weak, but at least not pathetic enough to let it show.
Avoiding the pools of Demon remains and blood he casually walked out the main doors and vaulted effortlessly over the fence.