Chapter Text
Hell was stifling
No wind existed to blow away the fetid stench of rot that permeated Dante's lungs.
Hell was sharp
Not even an inch of flat ground to be found between the unending spires of razor sharp stone and glass. He'd needed to abandon his motorcycle almost immediately upon arrival.
And most of all, hell was big
So, so big.
An unending pit where the only way Dante could go was down.
He'd lost track of how long it had been since he defeated Argosax and began his hunt for an exit.
He'd lost track of how many demons he'd killed.
Their blood sustained him as he carried on without food or rest, each one he killed leaving him buzzing with frantic energy. But red orbs were no substitute for real food, and the ache of exhaustion always came back. He tried not to think about how the hunger came back just a little sooner each time. He could not do this forever...
God he would kill for a pizza.
A trio of Death Scissors oozed from the ground.
Two shots from Ebony and a well placed cleave with Rebellion.
There. He'd killed. Now where was his pizza?
He caught himself staring at the rancid corpses that remained. Their flesh had been so easy to tear through…
Dante shook himself, then clambered up on top of a slightly less pointy than average boulder and squinted out into the red haze for anything even remotely interesting.
Nothing.
Just an unending stretch of demon infested bullshit.
He'd come across a few thin patches on his journey. Areas where he could probably tear through and return home if he tried hard enough.
But something kept him there. Kept him digging a blood soaked path downwards ever deeper. There was no reason to go back…
—
Countless hours later found Dante in an unending maze of demonic halls and tunnels. A warped sprawl of a castle that had been left to grow and fester until it stretched for miles. He was quickly beginning to regret his choice to delve into this place. He had seen the edges of the vast structure in the distance and had hoped that there would be somewhere inside he could hole up and rest for an hour. His luck was, as usual, terrible.
The entire place reeked of Mundus. The same as Mallet island, the same as the black clad knight before he-
The demonic smell alone would have been more than enough to keep him on edge and unable to sleep, but in the five years since Mundus got his ass handed to him, apparently scavengers had decided to move into his abandoned turf. A trail of slaughtered riots and empusae were left in Dante's wake as he stumbled deeper and deeper into the maze of halls.The countless red orbs had soaked into him, but it seems he’d finally pushed himself to a point where they couldn’t fend off the exhaustion that was clawing at him. He was running out of time… maybe just a taste…
Why the hell was he still here...?
He hacked clumsily through the most recent cluster of pyrobats, leaving his surroundings blessedly clear for a few moments. It looked like it had been some sort of lab at one point... or maybe just a torture room. Hard to tell the two apart when it came to demons.
There had to be somewhere around here that wasn't absolutely swarming with pests, somewhere he could finally sleep. Just a quick nap, that would get him back on his feet. Who was he kidding, sleep would do no good for him now. He needed food, and that was not something hell could provide.
There! A gnarled door half hidden behind an alcove. He strode over and wrenched it open, some sort of ancient latch resisting him for just a moment before it snapped with an awful, fleshy sound. Have his fingernails always been that long? Have his knuckles always had scales peeling out from under the skin? He slipped into the darkness on the other side, shutting it behind him.
Hidden inside was a long staircase leading downwards. The stench of blood and rot filtered up from the stagnant air below, but he couldn't hear anything. Well, hopefully whatever was down there would die nice and quickly so that he could finally take a nap.
Down he went, leaning against the walls for support that he really didn't want to admit that he needed.
Scales scrape against the stone, the friction tearing away the already ripped leather on the shoulders of his coat..
Eventually the stairs leveled out into a vast hall with a ceiling so high that he could not make it out. Chains and spiked tendrils dangled far above his head, displaying the remains of what had once been dozens, if not hundreds of unfortunate victims. Riots and Empousa and Canias and even the rare behemoth… all strung up like demonic string lights.
Dante gave one of the dried out husks a nudge with his sword, waiting a moment to see if they were all about to come to life and drop down on his head. Maybe just a few more red orbs…. Maybe that would be enough to keep him going. Maybe a few bites from their dripping hides…
The corpse swayed slightly, but remained otherwise dead.
Damn
He trudged across the room, peeking through a few doors as he passed. Most were left gaping open, the cells inside either empty or filled with various unmentionable piles. He decided it was probably best to leave the closed doors alone. Overall, the whole area was disconcertingly empty. Apparently even demons thought this place was creepy enough to steer clear of. Hell, he should probably steer clear.
Did it really matter?
There didn't seem to be any other exit from this place, nowhere for something to come creeping in. Despite the decor, it would work just fine for what he needed. He slipped into one of the cells that was mostly empty, swinging the door all the way inward as he went to create a hidden corner between it and the cell wall. With an exhausted sigh, he finally slumped to the ground, head tilted back to knock against the wall.
He'd find a way out in a few hours... For now, he propped rebellion up against his shoulder, arms draped comfortably against the cross guard, and allowed himself to drift into an uneasy sleep.