The Cell

   The phone was ringing when he walked through the door.  He paid it no attention as he walked past it,  toward the staircase.  Thirty-six hours of demon chasing and a few hundred kills.  He was exhausted.  As he lumbered up the steps, he decided not to take another case at least for two days.  

    He peeled off his leather gloves that were still slightly damp from the demon blood and threw it on the top of the dresser.  He unzipped his jacket, shrugging them off his shoulders as he walked into the the bathroom and ran the shower.  He sat on the rim of the tub and unbuckled his boots then kicked them off to the side.  He grimaced, hearing the phone ring downstairs again.  He will have to pull the plug on the phone later, if he were to have at least a full day's sleep.

    Dante stripped off his pants and stepped into the scorching hot shower.  He let out a deep blissful sigh as the sores and knots were loosened from his muscles by the heat, the gentle pain that rose from it felt good.  Almost the kind of nice pain that came after an intense workout.  He turned and let the hot water splash onto his back, the flat of his hands braced against the shower wall.  He hadn't felt this good in a long time.

    He wasn't even certain what it was that he was sensing.  It was a slight prickling sensation that came from the pit of his stomach that worked its way up.  His eyes snapped open, alarmed by the familiarity of the feeling that he knew he had not felt in a long time.  He shut off the water and stepped out of the shower stall, grabbing a towel off the rack.  He stepped into his bedroom, studying the undisturbed disarray he had always kept as he toweled himself dry.  The sensation, a mix of anxiety and urgency, became stronger by the moment.  Then he realized what it was.

    He wound the towel around his waist and picked up one of his guns before he dashed down the stairs.  Alastor was calling out to him.  The demon sword he had conquered and brought back from Mallet Island was in distress.  Dante had retired Alastor after he learned the demon contained inside the metal might be released and take on its demonic form if he continued to use it.  Dante's physical contact with the sword had weakened the seal and he had taken a liking to Alastor to the point that he would not want to have to destroy it.  Along with Ifirit, Alastor had been laid carefully in a thick glass case and hidden away in the basement.  For nearly two years, Alastor and Ifirit laid dormant.

    He was a little puzzled when he caught saw the front door shut and locked from inside, as he had left it.  Dante checked the rest of the house -- the windows and doors were all closed and locked as well.  Alastor continued to call out to him, its distress grew greater by the minute.  

    Dante clicked on the light to the basement and stepped down the stairs.  He shivered, the blast of cold air wrapped around his damp skin as he tip-toed down the stairs.  At the bottom of the stairs, he flipped the light switch.  Only a single bulb in the far corner lit up.  The other two had burnt out.  Dante cursed as he carefully made his way through the boxes and crates, straining his eyes to see where Alastor was.

    He saw it.  His eyes caught the glint of glass case that caught the weak light.  He could barely make out the shape of the sword beneath it.  Dante navigated through a few more boxes then reached the glass case.  He ran his finger along the surface of the glass.  It was hot.

    "What's wrong...?" Dante whispered.  

    A sharp pain that was like a knife to his chest made him took a step back answered him.  Then two strong arms wound around him and pulled him against a body that was stone-like and cold.

    "I missed you so much..." a voice said softly into his ear.  A cold tongue licked along the neck and shoulder.  

    A familiar dread seized him, although he could not name the owner of the voice.  He only knew to be afraid of him.  Dante  thrashed, kicking at the shadow that held him.  The embrace only tightened, squeezing his arms closer to his sides until the pain nearly made him drop his gun.

    "Be a good boy and this won't hurt too much..."

    The towel around his waist loosened and dropped.  Dante's struggled renewed as he was bent over a crate and held down by the back of his neck.  His ankles were kicked apart and a knee pressed between his thighs to keep him from closing his legs.

    "Who...are...you?"

    "You'll remember soon."

    A familiar hardness brushed against his backside and triggered a mild panic.  Dante squeezed the trigger, not caring where the bullet went.  He kept on firing until his finger cramped and he stopped.  His ears were half deaf and all he could smell were burnt wood and concrete.  He had shot through some crates and concrete floor.  The strength that held him were still the same - not one bullet struck his attacker.

    "You done playing with your toy yet?" 

    The arms that encircled him tightened as he was pressed harder against the crate he was bent over on.  The rough edge of the crate felt like a dull knife sawing across his belly.  Another squeeze and he dropped the gun.  He couldn't breathe and he couldn't even bring himself to make a sound when the blunt head of a cock pushed hard against his unprepared hole.  

    "Relax -- it'll hurt only for a little bit if you don't resist," Dante was told.  The arms around him loosened, allowing him to breathe.  The embrace left him but before he was able to get up, a hand clasped around the base of his neck and held him down - the side of his face was pressed against the rough surface.     

    The rims of his hole stretched open by the thickness that pushed hard against it.  Dante could feel his flesh tear and swallowed the bulky crown.  Dante bit down on his lower lip, refusing to let out the scream that wanted to work its way out of his throat.

    "That's okay...you can scream all you like.  I rather like it when you beg and scream."

    The hard shaft wormed its way through the tight columns, wringing layers of pain from it.

    "You are still so tight...felt like the first time I shoved my cock in that hot tunnel of yours."

    Dante fought to push himself up but the hand that held him by the neck only pressed down harder.  He finally ceased his struggles when he felt his neck was on the verge of being crushed and he had become light-headed from lack of air again.  Dante panted, his body lolled against the rough surface of the crate with the rhythm of the cock being pumped in and out of him.    

    "We do have so much to catch up on, dear Dante.  I've not been able to get you out of my mind since the day we parted.  Have you thought about me?"

    Fingers with sharp nails raked across his back, leaving fire-like trails in its wake.  That pain was easily hidden by the raw pain of being split open.

    "Please...please..." When Dante found his voice, that was all he could find himself whispering.

    "Almost, my darling," the voice said to him.

    The pounding stopped and the cock was pulled out as the grip was lifted from Dante's neck.  Dante found himself thrown on the floor and almost immediately, he was held in place by someone straddling over his chest.  A large hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed, choking him.  The fingers were crushing his windpipe and he was losing strength quickly.  His neck was about to be broken, Dante thought remotely as he kicked and clawed at anything he could reach.

    "You are so adorable..."

    The first thick splash of cum hit his cheek, then his chin, then the bridge of his nose.  A deep groan and another short spurt of cum wet his lips.      

    "Time to go to sleep, my sweet..."

    A guttural laugh followed and jolted a distant memory inside the remains of Dante's consciousness.  The grip around his neck tightened one last time and Dante heard something snap in his neck.  The last thing Dante remembered was recalling a name and the sound of the glass shattering, as Alastor's case disintegrated -- the shards showering over them both.

 

    He was dreaming of Rome again.  Dante held to his father's right hand while Vergil clung onto the left as they walked up the steps to the Basilica, their little feet scrambling to keep pace with their father.

    "Do you want me to carry you?" Sparda said to Dante who had managed to miss a step and would have tumbled down the stairs if it were not for his father's sturdy grip.  Vergil peeked over and gave him a snide grin.  

    "No daddy," Dante said and made a face at Vergil.

    Sparda stiffened, suddenly realizing eyes panning over to look at the father and the twins.  Their presence stole attention no matter where they went -- mesmerizing human eyes with their inhuman perfection.

    "Daddy..." 

    Sparda looked down to see Dante tug at his pant leg.  The boy opened his arms, silently asking to be picked up.  He bent down and scooped the slight boy into his arms.  Dante wound his arms around Sparda's neck.  

    "What's wrong?" Sparda said and stroked Dante's hair.  Dante pressed his face against his father's shoulder.  He was quivering.

    "Don't want to go inside, daddy..."

    Vergil blinked, staring up at Dante.  They stood near the entrance, the flow of tourists and priests walked past, stealing glances at them as they did so.  

    "Nothing can hurt you in there," Sparda said and kissed the boy on his cheek.

    "There's demons inside."

    "They are not real.  Just paintings and statues."

    "I can hear them..." Dante shook harder.  "They are saying my name."

    "Dante, even if they are in there, do you want to be afraid of them for the rest of your life?"

    "No..." 

     Sparda set him down on the floor and crouched down  to look at Dante in the eyes.

    "Then let's go inside and see what was calling your name.  It couldn't hurt you.  Not when I'm here."

    Dante nodded although his eyes said otherwise.  Vergil laced his fingers through Dante's and held it.

    "Come on," Vergil said and tugged Dante along until the twins stepped out of the pale cement stair landing and onto the dark marble floor.  

    "See, nothing to be afraid of here -- " Vergil said.  

    Dante pulled at Vergil's arm and refused to take another step.

    "Don't go in any further," Dante said, his eyes brimmed with tears.  "Terrible things are hiding in the paintings."

    "You are being ridiculous," Vergil said.  "Come -- "

    Dante pulled his arm free and turned to run out of the door.  He started to cry, realizing the doors were no longer there -- but a stone wall.  

    "Daddy! Daddy!"

    Dante pounded at the wall so hard that his hands bled.  The voices that was calling out to him became louder, coming closer.  He sensed them.  Many of them -- all standing behind him and walking up to him in a slow, measured pace.  He didn't want to turn and look but he did, when he heard Vergil shriek.

    Dante screamed, crumpling down onto his knees.  A tall creature cloaked in the shadow had seized his brother by its talon-like hands and tore the boy into two.  Entrails and blood fell in thick pools, emptying the small body.  

    "Why are you afraid of the demons, pretty baby?" A rough voice asked him.  "Aren't you not one yourself?"

    The top half of Vergil's body was thrown toward him, landing a few feet from Dante.  Vergil's blood splattered and speckled Dante's face and clothes.  His twin's dead eyes stared at him -- wide and still held the shock from the point of his death.  

    "No, not quite one," the voice marveled.  "But all the more lovelier."

    Dante froze as the dark figure emerged from the shadows, its thick hooves clacked loudly on the marble floor as it did so.

    "I've come for you,"  The goatling with the wolf-like face said softly.  "My pretty little Dante..."

 

    Dante woke up screaming, the panic intensified when he realized he could not move.  It took him a little longer to realize that his arms had been bound tightly behind him, nearly elbow to elbow -- the coarse ropes knotted from his biceps down to his wrists.  His shoulders hurt, and it hurt a lot more when he tried to move.  He stopped for a moment to gather his bearing.  

    He was still in his own house, at least.  He had been brought into the main living room and dumped in middle of the floor -- naked and bound.  A slight crackling sound made him look over to see his fire place lit with a healthy flame already going.  He grimaced, realizing the only way he might be rid of the binding's to hold his arm over the fire and burn them off.  Dante sat up, the pains in his over-stressed shoulder protested the movement and made him dizzy with pain.  

    "Ah, my little Dante's awake."

    Dante found himself stilled and petrified by the voice.  He didn't look up to see who had spoken.

    "What? No tears of joy?" Remus laughed softly -- his bare feet made little noise as they padded across the carpeted room toward him.  "Not a word to tell me how good it is to see me again?"

    Remus' words were distant and unclear against the thunderous sounds of blood pounding in his ears.  Dante hardly registered Remus' immediate presence in front of him, not even when Remus struck him hard across his face with the back of his hand.  The blow made Dante fall to the side.  He laid there, stunned and unmoved.  Remus dug his fingers into Dante's hair and seized a fistful of it then pulled Dante's head up to meet him at his eye level.

    "I want you to take a look at what you've done," Remus said.  "This visit was long overdue."

    Dante stared at Remus, although his mind was not comprehending what he was looking at.  Hideous burns covered most of Remus' chest and left arm -- burned so thoroughly that he could see the blackened skin pulled taut over the scarred muscles.  Three still-red thick scars ran down the left side of Remus' face.  The left eye had been scarred shut.

    "Now, how are you going to make it up to me?" Remus said into Dante's slightly opened mouth and slipped his tongue inside.  It was pure instinct that made Dante bite down on the invasive tongue.  Remus pulled back with a yelp and slammed Dante's head down on the floor.  The carpet did little to cushion the blow.    

    "You just want things the hard way, 'eh? Well, I aim to please."

    Remus turned Dante over onto his back and locked his waist between his knees.  The fog in Dante's mind lingered, even as he watched Remus undid his pant zippers and let out his half hard cock.

    "You have always been my favorite," Remus said between breaths as he slid the tip of his cock along Dante's belly, leaving a spot of pre-cum.  "Even when you are such a difficult child to deal with."

    "I...killed...you..." Dante whispered, still enveloped in a daze.  "I...killed...you..."

    Remus laughed and ran his free hand along Dante's chest.  He caught one of the nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the little bud between the pads of his fingers.

    "I don't think you can ever kill me, sweetheart."

    Dante cried out when the Remus' fingers crushed down on the delicate nipple and pulled on it so hard that Dante's chest rose with it.

    "We could have had such a wonderful relationship," Remus sighed.  His fingers worked to pluck at the other nipple, twisting it until another scream was wrenched from Dante's throat.  "You keep your legs open for me whenever I come into the room.  Very simple.  I don't ask for much."

    Remus's fingernails worked on the abused nipples, cutting into them until trickles of blood leaked from the pink buds.  Dante panted and willed himself to hold back the scream that threatened to escape him again.

    "You might as well just scream," Remus said, rubbing the wounded nipples hard with his fingers.  "I'm going to just continue to hurt you until I hear something."

    Dante finally did scream, his body bucked hard trying to push Remus away when he bent down and took one of the nipples into his mouth and bit on it.  Dante heard Remus snickering, laughing softly as his mouth moved to the other one and saw against it with his teeth.

    "Such a lovely shade of red," Remus said, studying the swollen bits.  "Red had always looked so good on you..."

    Remus slid out the unbuckled belt from his pants and folded it in half.

    "Let's work a little bit more on those lovely nipples, shall we? Maybe add a little color to the rest of that nice but a little too pale skin of yours."

    The first blow ripped across both of nipples, Dante threw his head back and screamed.  He struggled instinctively, his body completely trapped between Remus' knee as the belt came down in rapid successions.  The leather lashed down five times at the right nipple, then moved to lash the one on the left.  It was a minor relief when the whipping moved downwards, slashing across his belly and ribs.  When Remus stopped and discarded the belt to the side, his cock was hard.      

    He shifted and moved to kneel between Dante's legs.  From his pant pocket he fished out two silver thing that glimmered under the light.  Dante did not see what it was until Remus clamped it on his own straining cock.  One cock ring was snapped on an inch below the head of the cock and another one the shaft two inches below the first.  He lifted Dante's legs up and spat, wetting the rim of the tight hole that had healed. 

    "Ever play with these?" Remus said, his voice heavy with arousal.  "Shred your asshole inside and out into nice bloody ribbons."

    Dante's eyes went wide with pain as Remus pushed the hard bulk through the wet hole.  He blinked away the tears that had welled up in his eyes.  The invasion was stopped by the first ring - he could feel its coldness and the raised thickness of it.   

    "Say you are sorry and maybe I'll take off the second ring."

    "Fu..ck...you..."

    Remus cupped Dante's ass in his hands and raised it slightly.

    "No, fuck you..."

    Dante sobbed, choking down a scream as the push continued until the shaft with the ring was pushed through.  He could feel the muscles around the rim gave way, tearing easily as the cock rammed through.  The pain was liquid fire poured into him - filling him.  It did not stop, even when Remus paused again - the second, thicker ring stopped at the bleeding mouth of the hole.   

    "I'll take off the second ring as soon as you say you are sorry," Remus said again, a corner of his mouth turned up into a smile. "I am not that cruel, after all."

    Dante said nothing.  Spots of red and black was blurring his vision.  He couldn't stop himself from screaming as the rest of Remus' cock worked into him slowly, just so he can feel vividly - his flesh ripping and the insides of him being sliced open.

    "Stubborn little shit...."

    The length of the blood covered cock was pulled out of him slowly then slammed back in hard.  Dante's screaming ceased, after only a few minutes.  He had lost his voice and through his struggles, he had dislocated his left shoulder.  Dante's head rolled to the side, staring at the fire in the fireplace as he listened to Remus' harsh breathing and the wet sounds of his own rape.  

    "Next time, I'll bring the rings with the serrated edges..." Remus said, thrusting in harder and deeper.  "Now, those will make you go through the ceiling."  

    Dante groaned, his belly cramped badly.  The blood that did not bleed out from the sides were being pushed into his intestines.  It hurt badly and it made the muscles in his torso spasm and contract.  He didn't feel it, when Remus came.  He only knew Remus had collapsed on top of him and stopped moving.  When Remus did move, it was when he tried to kiss Dante's mouth.  Dante let him, strengthless to even turn away.

    "Shit..that was worth the year's wait..." Remus whispered, then stood up. "Now, something else for you to remember me by..."

    Remus walked to the fireplace and brought up a red-white brand he had set in the fire.  Dante writhed backwards, shaking his head as Remus sauntered back to him.

    "It's my name in the dark language," Remus said, the smile on his face grew as he closed the distance between them.  "When your body heals over it, you won't see it.  Not here in the human world anyway.  If you should come to Hell, the others will know who you belonged to."

    Remus knelt over one of Dante's knees, trapping him beneath.  He lifted the right thigh up, holding it by the crook of his knee.

    "I wouldn't try to move too much, sweet," Remus said and pressed the brand into the inside of Dante's bloodied thigh.  

    A pain that was different and seemingly worse than the rape exploded inside him -- radiating from his leg and instantly conquering every fiber of his being.  He didn't remember screaming, although he knew he must have.  He only remember the blessed darkness coming over him as the pain ate away at his consciousness.  Then there's nothing.

 

    Dante laid awake without an awareness that he was conscious.  He stared at the unkempt piles of his clothing on the floor, his mind working slowly to backtrack on how he had come to discard them there, ending with him tangled in sheets on his bed. Even before the name came to him, Dante sat up with a start.  He peeled back the sheet from his body and found nothing.  Gingerly, he ran his hand over his right thigh -- nothing.

    He pulled on a bathrobe and armed himself with both Ebony and Ivory before he stepped downstairs.  He peeked into his living room -- everything was left as it was.  Not a trace of blood or even a slight scent of it.  Instantly, he felt better.  

    A nightmare.  A fucking nightmare.

    He stood at the closed door leading into the basement.  His heart pounded harder and a sensation that was a mix of nausea and fear knotted in his stomach.  Although he realized what he felt was absurd.  Childish.  Like a little boy who was petrified of stepping off his bed because he had imagined a monster who lied beneath it would seize his ankles when he does.  Childish....but real.  He was afraid of the dark.  In his own house.

    Dante let out a long breath and gathered his bearing.  The clear images of his dream clung to him.  Perhaps he would go into the basement another day, when the recollections in his head would not be so clear, he reasoned.  Dante turned and walked toward his desk.  He slid out the top drawer and after minutes of rifling through papers, he found what he was looking for.

    "I'm so stupid...." Dante said to himself as he walked back to the basement door and inserted the key into the door knob.  As soon as he heard the lock turn with an audible click, the sickening feeling inside him receded.

    In the basement, Alastor leaned against the broken frame of the glass case - the closed eyes of the demon swallowing the blade opened slightly, hearing the click of the lock.  It closed again, bring with it what it witnessed. 

    ~End~