Love & Rememberance

The wind howled through the frigid night air as a figure drifted in and out through the shadows, be-coming one with the darkness. Snow had begun to fall before dusk, covering the outside world in a cold, un-forgiving blanket. At least, that’s how it felt for the shadowy figure.
         Families and people with hallway decent lives would be excited and distracted at the sight. Tomorrow they would be sledding down normally grass-covered hills, and throwing snowballs at one another in mock wars. Forts and snowmen would be built; schools and businesses would be closed…
         “Bah, what a load of rubbish.” The figure spat as these thoughts crossed into her already crowded mind. “Snow is nothing more than frozen rain, and yet they close down schools and businesses for it, but when it’s just plain old wet rain, tough luck. Honestly sometimes I just don’t understand human behavior.”
         Suddenly, a strong hand clamped down on her mouth, effectively disabling her voice from escaping to call for help.
         “Shh, I’m a friend, I’m your contact.” A quiet voice whispered in her ear. “I thought you would get lost with the fresh snowfall, so I decided to intercept you here. My name is Dante. If I let you go, will you properly introduce yourself? The only introduction I got was a picture of you; I don’t even know your name.”
         The woman nodded her head to show she would comply. Felling the hand come away from her throat, she straightened herself and her clothes before turning to face the stranger named Dante. Her heart leapt into her throat as she recognized just who exactly Dante was. Many years had passed since they had last seen each other, ever since the day his older brother, Vergil had left her broken-hearted as he pursued his ideal of one day taking over the human world.
         ‘Will he recognize me after so many years?’  The woman thought to herself. ‘Will he recognize my voice, even though my looks have changed so drastically? That means I can’t tell him my old name, no matter what, not that anyone else alive would know it.’
         “So your name is Dante, is it?” She asked matter-of-factly, trying to exude an air of authority and pro-fessionalism, being a woman who was always serious about just about everything. “Tell me, why did your council choose such an old man to greet the established Queen of Demons?”
         Dante snickered quietly at her question.
         “I suppose you’re referring to my silver hair, well it’s not because I am advanced in my years, although I am approaching my seventieth year. I was born with my hair this naturally pale shade.”
         ‘Seventy?! My god it’s been almost forty-three years, it can’t have been, and it has to have been longer, hasn’t it?’
         “Seventy years old, huh, that would put you born around the nineteen forties.”
         “Forty-five, to be exact, both me and my older brother, you see, we were twins.” Dante replied. “Now, may I have your name, if it pleases the Queen?”
         “Very well, my name is Andorra; I have no nickname and do not wish to have any.” She responded tart-ly. “We should get moving they’ll be expecting us at the checkpoint when the sky begins to lighten.”
         “Actually there has been a change in plans,” Dante stated. “Because of the unexpected snowfall, the council has asked me to escort you to find shelter for the night, considering your predisposition to cold-related illness.”
         “How thoughtful of them,” Andorra replied sarcastically, “I suppose they thought a hotel room would be satisfactory?”
         “No, they have provided a place that even a Queen would welcome in the very worst of consequences. If you would just follow me, we will be there in less than a half hour.”
         Andorra was glad not to have to look at Dante’s face any longer, no offense to him, of course. He just reminded her of Vergil so strongly that it almost hurt her to look into his beautiful cerulean blue eyes and be reminded of the man she had loved and lost to the seductive thought of unlimited power. Over forty years had passed, and still the memory of that night stabbed into her heart, almost breaking her from the inside out eve-ry time. Yet no matter how much it hurt her, once she started, she could not stop until she felt as if her heart had been ripped away from her chest, leaving nothing except raw nerves and morbid sense of relief as she imagined the organ no longer in pain.
Masochism was a trait she had learned early in life, even before she had met Vergil, and she had suf-fered from it for almost one hundred years, but never had it been as serious and deep-rooted as the anguish she felt for that demon of a man.
         “You mentioned a brother?” She prompted. “What was he like?”
         “He and I were as unalike as we could be. I was the wild, disobedient child, whereas he would always listen to everything our parents said, to a certain extent. He had a little bit of a rebellious side, but he mostly kept to himself. I was always chasing after girls, being something of a Casanova in my prime. My brother, on the other hand, I can’t recall if he ever dated any woman; well except for one.
         “They were the perfect match, amplifying each other’s qualities and generally getting along better than most couples. If they ever fought it was never serious, at least not that anyone knew of. They would pick and antagonize each other, but aside from that, she was the perfect woman for him. Then…” Dante paused
         “Then what?” Andorra pressed, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.
         “He just screwed it up, with almost no hope of ever fixing it between them. He decided he would ra-ther try to take over the human world than start a family and get married. See, she had just announced she was pregnant.”
         The memory crashed over here so severely that she had to stop walking, clutching her belly as she re-called the living baby in her womb at the time.
         “You okay?” He asked, not turning around.
         “Yes, I thought I heard something is all, please continue. You said the woman had just become preg-nant, what happened after that?”
         “Well, he seemed happy at first, even had the idea for the wedding himself. Things were going so well, until one night something happened to him. We were on a mission, slaying demons and rescuing people, when he received a really bad blow to the head, knocking him unconscious. We got done with the mission, brought him back to base to be treated, and all seemed to be fine until he woke up. Something in his eyes was different, there was a strange glow to them I had never seen before. I pointed it out, and then he became really violent; attacking us as if we were his enemies instead of his allies.
         “We tried to calm him down, but he took off and left. We tried to follow him but we lost his trail before deciding to warn his mate, we didn’t want him to get to her and end up hurting her and the baby or worse, y’know? By the time we had gotten her on the phone, she said he was just coming through the door, and then the line went dead.  The six of us rushed over there, hoping we would get there in time. He must have tele-ported, because it was a good half-hour trip outside of town to get there.
         “Unfortunately, when we arrived, it was too late, they had already battled; her trying to reason with him, make him see sense. He adamantly refused to do so, and began packing her stuff to leave. She grabbed onto his arm to stop him, and he swung around, stabbing his sword straight through her belly. The baby was run clean through, the umbilical cord was cut, and the placenta detached. She may have been a demon, but the baby couldn’t survive such a wound. She went into an immediate miscarriage, blacking out as he pulled the sword away from her already healed flesh.
         “Noticing what was happening, but not caring; he just stepped over her and left her on the floor. He had just left the property when we arrived. The sight we walked in on was so gruesome and horrible that to this day it still haunts me, but not nearly as bad as what we had to do in the next moments. In order for her to survive, we had to remove the baby by force, continually slicing her open again and again until we could pull out everything that was damaged. The baby was so small; it was no bigger than a few inches across. Its fea-tures were still forming, but you could tell it was an unborn baby that would never get to see the light of day.
         “After removing the baby, my niece took it and wrapped it in a blanket before taking it away to be bur-ied. We still had to remove the placenta and what was left of the cord, which was relatively easy considering the damage. After throwing them away, we cleaned up as best we could then we took her back to base so she could heal.” Dante’s voice had taken on a distinct tone that said he was remembering the day, wishing he had never lived through something so scarring and emotional.
         “Did she heal?” Andorra asked, knowing the answer already.
         “Physically she did. It was the emotional side of things that threw her out of whack, as well as her men-tal state of mind. Had she been human, she would have gone mad; that is, if she would have survived. Being a demon, all she could do was cry and rage and blame anyone and anything about what had happened. Finally, after a week of her tearing down everything, she finally seemed to calm down a little bit. After composing herself, she was a different person. She acted as if nothing had happened, as if they had never met and had a life together. I guess in her mind if she thought it didn’t happen, then it didn’t.
         “She stayed with us a little while longer before setting off on her own, and that was the last day any of us ever heard of her or from her again.”
         Andorra fought back tears as she felt the pain in her chest tighten with the recounting of the story that had changed her life nearly fifty years ago. Torn between her life of anonymity and the desire to tell this man who she really was began to cause her more pain, but it was a different type than the kind she had come to welcome as an old friend lately. Deciding to quarrel with herself over it later, she continued to follow Dante until she could see a shape rise in the near distance. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.
         “What about your brother? Has he ever changed, you know, come back to himself. Or is he still pursu-ing his ideal of taking over the world?”
         “To be honest, that’s what this particular council meeting is about tomorrow evening. He turned him-self in, refuses to tell anyone why though, so they decided to bring you in because you’re the last living demon of royal descent, they only one capable of giving a punishment suited for his actions. They will be given to you when we arrive tomorrow.”
         Andorra stopped cold again, her heart thudding in her chest so hard, she was sure Dante would be able to hear it through her ribs.
         “Hey, you okay?” He asked, turning to see to her.
         “Why do they never tell me the full extent of these council meetings if I’m the one doing all the dirty work and making the hard decisions?” She replied, trying to keep her voice even and tired. “I mean, if I’m sup-posed to be dolling out punishment for crimes committed by supernatural creatures, don’t you think I need to know before I actually get there? Seriously, I thought human behavior confused me but now I can see that demons are just as baffling.”
         “I have no say in that,” Dante stated. “However, I can say that we have reached our destination. Wel-come, milady, to your accommodations for the night.”
         Andorra looked up to see an old log cabin that may have once been a lovely homestead, but now looked in desperate need of an Extreme Makeover-Home Edition episode.
         Some of the cedar logs that made up the outside had begun to mold and sprout various growths of fungi and moss, staining the once mahogany wood to contrasting shades of green and yellow and white.  Fur-ther towards the ground, shoots of ivy had begun to creep along the cracks in the grain of the wood, in a way both beautifying and disfiguring the old home. The tin-metal roof looked to have once been a beautiful shade of emerald shingles, but was now stained black by years of weather and disuse.
         “I hope the inside is nicer that what it appears to be.” She remarked.
         “Demon magic at its finest, Andorra. The outside is made to look inhabitable so that no wandering passers-by are tempted to try and stay the night. Meanwhile, on the inside it is created to look like a five-star resort, complete with day, and night chefs as well as a full waited staff to cater to your every whim. There is a pool, gym, and a full bar. There is also a staff room for preliminary plans on your session with the council to-morrow afternoon.” Dante had continued explaining until they had reached the dilapidated porch, upon which a badly weathered door opened, and Andorra could feel warm air caress her wind-beaten face.
         “Hello, Andorra.” A severely familiar voice answered as her eyes adjusted to the light spilling out onto the snow. When her eyes had become accustomed to the brightness, her heart leapt into her throat as she recognized the figure standing before them.
         “Vergil.” Her voice was choked and hoarse as she stumbled back a few steps, almost falling to her knees in the snow she hadn’t realized she’d stepped into.
         Suddenly, a blunt pain exploded in the back of her skull and bright stars danced through her vision be-fore going dark as she fell backwards into the snow, her body crunching on the miniscule ice crystals.
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“Thank you again, Dante.” Vergil said as they lay Andorra on a couch just inside by a slowly crackling fire in the hearth.
         “Yeah, well you’re lucky I decided to help you in the first place.” Dante’s voice was joking but serious as he backed away from the sleeping demoness.
         “Yeah, I didn’t really give anyone a reason to do so forty-three years ago, did I?”
         Dante said nothing; he could sense the regret and remorse in his older brother’s voice and decided he felt bad enough for the moment.
         It had been only recently that Vergil had come back to his senses after trying to take over the human world. He had once again received a blow the head and his perspective was changed, with him realizing what he had done and what damage his actions had caused to those around him. He had tracked down his brother and the rest of the demon slayers, two of whom should have been dead due to old age. After convincing them he was the same Vergil they had known before, he asked what had become of his old mate. After hearing that she had disappeared quickly after healing from her injuries, he had enlisted their help in tracking her down.
         After almost five years and almost forty-five thousand hours of research, they had finally found some-one who fit the description of the missing woman.
         A recently discovered demoness of royal birth and pedigree had been appointed to the very rare status of Queen of all demons, ruling over all creatures that were of supernatural birth. The name had been different from the name Vergil had known her by, but she looked the same, save for a few minute changes. Her once coal-black hair now had pure white streaks highlighting the inky tresses. Eyes that used to be the color of freshly polished emeralds were now a fierce violet, with flecks of sapphire and ruby. Her features had once been proud and happy were now serious and determined.
         But perhaps the most distinguishing feature that had changed over the years was how she carried her-self, and how her voice had changed in tone. She used to walk with confidence and grace, now she looked de-feated but determined; her voice used to sound almost musical to his highly sensitive ears, but now echoed with a memory of a former life that had included happiness and love, now it was lifeless and sharp. The wom-an he had found tonight was nothing more than a memory, an echo of a previous life. It was as if all the hap-piness and love had been sucked out of her, leaving nothing but this shell of a woman.
Would he be able to convince her he had changed? He hoped so with every fiber of his being.
“Should we call the others and let them know we have found her?” Dante asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yes, you call the women; I’ll handle Nero and Kyrie.”
Silence descended on the interior of the establishment as both men turned to their phones, contacting their allies to abandon their searches because they had found her.
After they had both hung up their phones, Vergil turned to the still figure of the woman he had aban-doned and hurt all those years ago. Guilt began to course through him, and a bitter sensation seemed to settle deep in his belly. Sorrow for the baby he had inadvertently killed in his altered state of mind became a heavy weight where his heart resided in his chest. The organ he had thought he’d lost when he gave up on his mate and his family now ached with such force he wished it would explode already, at least then it would stop hurt-ing.
“I don’t think she will take this very well,” Dante commented. “She seemed pretty freaked when she saw you standing in the doorway. Then again, she does have a good reason to fear you, seeing as how the last time you were together you almost killed her.”
“Dante, please…” Vergil’s voice was quiet. “I know what I’ve done, and I know why she would reject me, even if she does manage to accept my apology. Hell, I don’t even know if I would forgive me if I were in her place. I don’t even know what to do if she would take me back. I never imagined I’d find her, much less get the chance.”
“Well, for starters, you can start by putting that woman at the top of your priority list. You have to build her trust for you all over again, just like when you first got together. She’s spent the last forty-three years just wandering around feeling sorry for herself, because she thought she did something wrong. The only rea-son she accepted the position she has now was so she could take her mind off it and stop hurting, although I don’t know why she wanted me to tell her about what had happened. She knew who I was, so why would she willingly put herself through the pain?”
“Masochism.” Vergil stated simply.
“Gesundeit.”
“No, masochism is a syndrome, I guess you could say. It means that the person is willing to cause themselves pain, be it physical, mental, or emotional. They get some morbid sense of satisfaction out of it, and I noticed that she had some of the qualities when we were together. I guess after what I out her through, she’d really need to up the ante just so she could feel alive instead of feeling like an echo of her former self, which is exactly what I see her as at this moment.”
“Oh, well then that explains it. How much longer should she be out? I didn’t hit her that hard.”
“That all depends on her,” Vergil replied. “I imagine I gave her quite a shock, so something inside her is trying to reason that this is all a dream that it can’t possibly be true. Another part of her wants it to be true so she can stop hurting and finally be happy again, if all goes according to plan. Another part of wants her to be undecided on how she feels so she can decide which option will benefit her the most, not just now, but in the long run. That’s just me reappearing I her life. That’s not how she would feel once she realized it was true and either accepted it or turned her back on me.”
“How in the hell can she feel all that at once? How can anyone feel that much all at one time? She’s not going to explode is she?” Dante asked incredulously.
“Not in the sense you mean, but she may get violent. Then again, she may not. I don’t know how she is anymore, so I don’t know how she would react anymore.”
“Same here.” Dante responded. “Guess all we can do is wait it out, huh?”
“All we can do.”
“I just hope she comes to soon, I’ve always hated waiting for anything.”
“That’s bullshit,” Vergil interjected, leaning close to the fireplace. “What about all those video games you’d camp in front of the stores for?”
“I hated the wait, but I’d do it just to be the first customer to grab the new product. There’s some kind of power over other people if you have the very first copy.” Dante replied, sitting at a nearby table.
“What ever happened to that game?” Vergil asked.
“We broke it during one of our ‘sparring’ sessions.” He answered, smiling at the memory. “Those were the good ol’ days, huh Verge?”
“We did have some good times, at least till father joined in and beat the crap out of both of us. Then mother would get on him for beating us, and then jump us for destroying our rooms, but it was always good-natured.” Vergil recalled. “I wonder if maybe they would know what to do in this particular situation?”
“Absolutely.” Dante replied. “Too bad they’re dead though, and we have no way to ask them.”
“You two are about to be dead if you don’t explain to me what the fuck is going on around here.”
The brothers turned to see Andorra standing next to the couch, her amethyst eyes ablaze with rage and confusion.
“Take it easy,” Dante said, slowly walking forward. “There is a very good explanation for this.”
“It better be.” The woman seethed, anger emanating from her in waves so powerful they hit Vergil with such force that he knew he had a fight on his hands. “Why is he here?”
“You would be better off asking him that yourself.” He replied.
“I have nothing to say to him, he had his chance to talk to me, and he ran me through with Yamato instead. No, the time for talk is over, all I want is for you to tell me why you brought him here. And answer me this, is really even a council meeting tomorrow, or is this a part of some elaborate scheme to get us back together? If so, then I want no part in it, he’s caused me enough pain over the last forty plus years, I’m done.”
Andorra turned to the door, preparing to walk out but Vergil stopped her this time.
“Dante,” he said, not taking his cerulean eyes off of the tiny woman in front of him. “You’d better get away from here, it’s going to get rather unpleasant, and you need not be caught in the crossfire, this is our fight.”
“Nothing will ever be ours again, no, this is your fight. I’m walking away from all of this, just like you did. You can try all you want, but-“
Her words were cut off as Vergil pulled her toward him roughly, pulling her mouth to his in a hungry, demanding kiss, during which Dante snuck away, leaving them to fight it out as they saw fit.
Andorra tried to fight her away out of Vergil’s inhuman grip but she could not break his hold, even though she was a demon herself, he was stronger. Vergil pulled away suddenly then, and Andorra backed away hurriedly, gasping in shock and awe at the boldness of the man who stood before her. Her heart thudded in her breast, more alive now than it had been in years, yet hardly any pain was associated with each beat against her ribs.
“How dare you?!” She screamed, composing herself as she grabbed a chair and threw it at his head. He dodged the heavy wooden frame, and it shattered to kindle inside the fire grate, causing the fire to crackle hungrily and flare higher.
“I had to distract you so you would let Dante get away, he shouldn’t be in the middle of this.” Came the simple reply. “And no, that was not the only reason I was so forward. I’ve missed you.”
“Do you think I’ve missed you?” She asked, pacing the spacious room in long strides on slender, athletic legs. “I mean, my word Vergil, it’s been over forty years did you ever think that maybe I’ve moved on, gotten over you, you know that sort of thing? What did you expect me to wait around, hoping against all hope that would have a change of heart again and come back? Did you expect things to go back to the way they were before? Think again, you must have had some serious brain damage, because it ain’t happening.”
Vergil smiled at her use of the slang word.
“And just what is so funny?” She balked, putting her hand on another chair, preparing to heave it across the room as well.
“You still say that word the same, I remember it was one of your favorites to use when you got excited.”
“And? Your point?”
“No point, it just reminded me of all the happy memories we shared. I know I screwed it all up, but I’m willing to make it work again, if you’ll have me that is.”
“Are you mental?! You reappear in my life after decades, and expect me to take you back because you remembered how I used to speak a slang word? You’re dreaming, because that is the only place your little delusion will happen, is in your dreams.” Andorra spat.
Vergil sighed.
“I didn’t want to have to do this,” he said, approaching her.
“Get away from me,” she barked as she lifted the chair above her head.
Before she could do anything, Vergil took the chair from her before grabbing her wrists and forcing her against the far wall, effectively pinning her so she had no means of escape. She could feel one of his powerful legs between her thighs, decreasing the change of her driving her knee into his crotch. His face was merely inches from hers, close enough that she could feel the warm whisper of his breathing. She tried not to look into the electric blue depths of his eyes, but it was as if they were holding her there, keeping her prisoner mentally. She could not move or think when their eyes were locked, all she could do was breathe.
His scent gently wafted over her as her breathing slowed down, and she slowly drew in the scents of rain and winter, of a thunderstorm before it broke into freezing sheets of rain and sleet. She could smell the air as it was cleansed after a snowstorm in January, welcoming a new, fresh start to everything. As these thoughts entered her mind, she began to understand that she needed to listen to what he had to say before she made her decision. She may not like it, but it needed to be done.