The Ghost of You

Disclaimer: All I do is write fanfics. I don't own ANYTHING. -_-
Rating: NC-17 (starting at Chapter 2)
Warning: This is YAOI - meaning, it has GRAPHIC depictions of MALE/MALE SEX in it (VxD, in this case). Slightly AU (alternate universe), but not much.

Enjoy!


Chapter 1: Despair

Why is it that during painful situations, we’re told to “remember the good times?” Are we so frightened of drowning in our sorrow? Perhaps it is something else. Perhaps we are in fear of doing irrational or unacceptable acts during this time that we are consumed with negativity. After all, humans are little more than barbarian creatures driven by instinct; yet, we also attempt to veil these thoughts by saying that we have societal standards. So, if we “remember the good times,” when the world was at peace and in order, we will keep our instincts in check. However, not all souls are rational. Not all souls are even human.

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In a silent room, on a gray, rainy day, sat a man. In an uncharacteristic display of calm, he contemplated. He brooded. He drowned in the human emotion known as despair.


It was a quiet morning. The weatherman had said that there would be ‘rain later that evening, with a chance of sprinkles throughout the day.’ Of course, this was of no concern to the devil hunter who wandered the streets, looking for his next case.

In the past year, the man known simply as Dante had been taking odd jobs out of boredom and a need for money. Often they involved taming some minor demon that had broken loose from the depths of the backstreets and made its way to society somehow. However, today’s case was special. By word of mouth, Dante had learned that a family was in desperate need of a medium to exorcise their eight-year-old daughter, who seemed to be possessed by a demon. Of course, Dante was no medium, but he did know a thing or two about dealing with demons. Thus, he had offered to take the case.

Pacing casually up to the residence, he knocked firmly on the heavy oak door at the address he had been provided. A few moments later, a worn-looking man opened the door, with a frazzled woman peering from over his shoulder. The woman seemed to shrink away from the strangely dressed and oddly featured man at her door. However, the man appeared to brighten as he turned weakly hopeful eyes to the supposed exorcist.

With a disarming smile, Dante extended a hand, preparing himself for whatever sob story the family would tell and severely wishing that they would just shut up and let him do his work.

“I take it you’re the medium we’ve been waiting for,” said the nervous man, extending his own hand to grip the other man’s.
“Something like that,” Dante responded with a light chuckle, wishing for the millionth time that he could skip the pleasantries.
“Uh...alright,” said the man, obviously not satisfied with his ‘medium’s’ reply. He eyed the huge sword attached to the other person’s back, but said nothing. “Come in, come in. Please, right this way,” the tall male insisted, ushering Dante into his home.

As he entered the house, the first thought in the platinum-haired devil hunter’s mind was that the place was a complete dive. Half of the house looked to be scorched, as if an arsonist had randomly taken a torch to various parts of the rooms. Immediately, the hunter concluded that the demon must be a fire elemental and was taking its primitive rages out on this family.

While he was looking about, the man, who at this point Dante had decided must be the father, directed the young ‘medium’ to the staircase, obviously indicating that the girl was upstairs. With a bored face, he followed the father to the upper level of the house, noting the damage in that area, as well.

‘The demon must really be pissed about something,’ Dante thought as he continued down the hallway. ‘Oh well, no concern of mine as long as I get rid of the damn thing.’

He was broken out of his thoughts when the father cleared his throat and made a gesture to a cutely decorated door at the end of the corridor. It was pink and adorned with unicorns and some weird pictures by someone who called his/herself LisaFrank, if the signature on the rainbow art was anything to go by. Dante raised an eyebrow. Kids always had been foreign to him. Finally, he noticed a flowery plaque on the door that proudly stated ‘Angie’s Room.’ At least the kid had a name now.

“Well, this is it – my daughter Angela’s room,” the father spoke. “Please, please, take care of her. We don’t know what happened, but we’ve been so scared for her these past few days. I just want to see her be herself again. You’ll help her, won’t you?”
“No worries, I’ll do my best,” the hunter said with a casual tone.

With a gentle turn of the knob, Angela’s father turned the knob on her door and stepped back, almost fearfully, letting Dante open the door himself.

The room seemed normal and girly at first glance. What surprised Dante the most was that there wasn’t a speck of fire damage in this room, when he expected this to be the worst room in the house. Closer inspection revealed a very peculiar arrangement of the room’s items, as if the room’s owner had suddenly decided that she hated the sight and rearranged it all haphazardly, to suit her now less-than-human tastes. The sight did nothing to bother Dante, and the red-coated hunter trudged forward, to where a small, innocent-looking girl sat directly on the center of her bed, staring at the wall to Dante’s right.

He gazed at her, looking for various signs of the possession, and noticed that she was almost silently muttering something unintelligible. He listened closer, but even his enhanced sense of hearing could not make out what she was saying. He glanced over his shoulder, thinking that he could ask the father how long she had been doing this for, but the man had vanished, presumably to worry downstairs alongside his wife. He turned back to the girl, taking a few steps forward from the doorway.

With inhuman quickness, Angela’s head shot up to stare at Dante, all muttering ceased. No – to say she was staring would be wrong. Dante noted that this reaction was a glare – one filled with pure hatred and malice for the person who would dare to disturb the demon’s quiet environment. He kept his own look neutral, hoping to perhaps show the demon that he wasn’t going to launch an attack on it – for now. While this wordless message didn’t lessen the glare, it did seem to lower the demon’s guard slightly. With that, Dante stepped forward to the possessed girl, only to be greeted with a vicious growl that the tiny child’s body could have never produced under normal circumstances. He stopped, not particularly wanting to antagonize the creature just yet.

Finally addressing the demon for the first time, Dante said, “So ya got a thing for little girls, do ya? That’s pretty sick by human standards, you know.” Then, seeming to rethink that train of thought, he added, “But I guess you don’t quite fall into that category, eh?”

The demon showed little reaction to the personal attack, but just continued the cautious glaring at the devil hunter.

“Okay...so you’re not much for conversation, either. Great. Just great. Oh well. I didn’t come here to talk anyway,” said Dante with a little indignant huff and a drawing of his favorite sword. He pointed it directly at the girl’s head and gave a hard stare of his own. “Alrighty, freakfest, you have two choices. A. Stay in there and get some hack ‘n slash from me,” he propositioned with an accented, flashy wave of his sword near the girl’s face, “or B. Come out and fight like a man. What’ll it be?”

Very slowly, the tiny figure began to rise from her cross-legged position on the bed, her hazel eyes never leaving Dante’s own ice blue orbs. Eventually, Angela was completely standing, but her body’s movement continued, much to the hunter’s surprise. Hovering a few inches above the bed, the girl persisted in her glaring, her hair and clothes being ruffled by some unseen force. A small, fiery light began to emit from her chest, directly over her heart. She brought up her hands and covered the light, but it grew larger and peeked around her hands and slipped through her fingers. The light seemed to snake around her body, disconnecting itself from the girl fluidly and beginning to form its own shape behind her body. Finally, it took the form of a young woman, no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, with her arms wrapped protectively around the girl in front of her.

The lady’s fiery body held Angela tightly as the tiny girl collapsed, unconscious now. The fire demon gently laid the body back down on the bed and turned to face Dante, all of the malice gone, now replaced by pain and sadness – despair. Seeing this, Dante temporarily sheathed his sword again. The woman levitated closer to Dante, away from the bed and the figure now lying upon it. As if the gesture were foreign to her, she opened her mouth, apparently making some attempt to speak.

Dante resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently, thinking that he might be able to complete this job without murdering something if he kept the ghostly woman calm.

Her mouth finally moved in the manner of speaking, but no sound came out. She put her enflamed hands up to her throat, as if trying to coax it to let loose a noise. Obviously frustrated at her inability to communicate, the flames around her seemed to grow and threaten the world that had silenced her. Dante held up a hand to try and hold off the woman’s emotions, hoping that she had enough control over her powers to attempt what he had in mind.

The devil hunter opened his mind and began to tap into rarely used powers. Quite honestly, it was an ability that he had only just learned of a few months ago, when he encountered a more advanced demon. Having no mouth, due to its disfigurement, it had learned over time that its increased mental capabilities could allow it to speak directly into the minds of those it wished to communicate with. Once the demon had “spoken” that way, it was easy for Dante to learn how to respond in kind. Really, it was just like talking normally once he had gotten used to it. Of course, the hunter had destroyed the bloodsucker anyway, but the fact remained that it had taught him something new.

‘Can you hear me?’ he asked, hoping to have made contact with the female demon’s mind.
‘...yes. Yes, I can,’ she replied in a surprised tone. ‘How are you doing this?’
‘It’s all in your head, girly. Now, you mind letting me know what your beef is against the locals?’
‘My...beef...?’
‘Yeah, your issue, your deal, you know. Why’re you so pissed at this family?’ he said, slightly exasperated.’
‘I’m...not, really,’ she replied slowly.
‘Well then what the hell is the problem? Why can’t you go back to the sewers where your kind belongs?’ he said gruffly.
‘Where my kind belongs...? Belongs? I won’t...I can’t...NO! I’m never going to a horrible place like that! What are you talking about? Why is it so bad that I stay here? Tell me!’ the fire demon demanded.
‘It’s because...wait. What’s your name, babe?’ Dante said, changing the subject briefly.
‘My name? It’s Alexis. And don’t change the subject!’
‘Okay, Al – can I call you that? – listen. You’re dead. For some reason or another, your soul was corrupt enough to become a demon. However, you stuck around here, instead of going to a place where humans couldn’t see you anymore – where you should have gone. So, my question to you is this: why are you still here? I could be mistaken, but last time I checked, humans sort of had a thing against raging, random fires in their homes. Go away already; you’ll make is easier on them. Trust me,’ he explained in a bored voice.
‘But...I don’t want to leave. And Angie doesn’t want me to leave, either,’ the spirit replied challengingly, sidling closer to the bed.
‘You don’t have a choice. Even if you could stay, you’d just cause trouble. You’re not normal. People would fear you. They’d hate you. You know that. Why can’t you accept it?’
‘I won’t. I refuse! NEVER!’ the woman screamed at the hunter.

With a haunting shriek, the spirit let loose part of her powers. The door to the room suddenly slammed shut and a blood red demonic seal covered the portal. Then, the fiery demon woman opened her mouth wide. Not knowing what to expect, Dante backed up, taking care not to get too close to the now-dangerous door. The woman drew in a deep breath and blew it back out as inky black smoke. Understanding her intention, the hunter quickly tried to find a way to open up the room, so that the smoke couldn’t blind or otherwise suffocate him. Unfortunately, the only window in the space was on the opposite wall, and the hunter was currently unlucky enough to have a raging demon between him and that option. His mind still working, he watched as the woman drew in for a third breath. However, it was different this time. When she exhaled, the smoke just kept pouring from her steadily, despite her having no air left to give.

As the air clouded over, Dante was intrigued to note that the smoke did nothing to disturb his breathing. Then again, it made sense. The lady was basically noncorporeal, so many of her attacks wouldn’t be able to affect the mortal plane. Still, the smoke did make it impossible to see anything – in particular, the dangerous spirit.

He calmed his hunter’s instincts and simply scanned the space in front and to the sides of his vision. As long as he didn’t move, he wouldn’t lose his orientation in the room. Thus, he would be able to keep track of her. He kept glancing about, hoping to catch a glimpse of the light of her enflamed form through the smoke, much as one might look for a sunbeam coming through the clouds on a gray day.

There. A telltale flicker of orange let Dante know where she was. All thoughts of diplomacy forgotten, he drew his sword quickly and lunged at an eleven o’clock position. Just before he made contact, her color flickered out, but he knew that his magic imbued sword would make inevitable contact. He grinned. Inevitable indeed. He heard a sickening crunch, and the smoke quickly dissipated. However, he was not anticipating the sight that lay before him.

Blood. A lot of blood. She was a demon. She shouldn’t have bled. The grin falling from his features instantly, his gaze slowly traveled downward to see a growing pool of blood spilling from Angela’s broken body on the floor. Alexis had only rejoined halfway with the girl when Dante had struck, although her body had still taken at least half of the blow. With a shriek of agony and a horrible glare at the demon hunter, the demon of flames burst into a million tiny embers as she seemed to perish.

Angela took in a gasping breath, coughing up more of the coppery fluid and making her whole body shudder. Slightly numb, Dante took a clumsy step forward, and then kneeled down mechanically into the pool of the girl’s life force. With a gentleness he hadn’t known he possessed, the hunter slipped one gloved hand beneath the girl’s head, turning it to face him. He placed his other hand to her wound that traveled all the way from her left breast to her right hip. A sudden revulsion crept up into Dante’s thoughts as he realized that he could see some of the girl’s innards from the gap the slash had made. He looked away from that sight quickly, and tried to focus his attention on little Angie’s face instead. The girl’s eyes were wide open, staring at the hunter.

“I’m sorry, mister. Ally’s a good girl, honest,” Angela said weakly, with a barely noticeable smile on her face. “She didn’t want to hurt anyone. Never ever.”
“Angela. What happened?” the hunter inquired.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“What happened to Alexis – to Ally? What made her like that?” he rephrased.
“Oh. Um...the police peoples said that she left the stove on and went to sleep. So...her house caught on fire and...she woke up but not in time,” Angie explained with a wheeze, trying to look away, but being prevented by Dante’s hand.
“Why did she choose to stay with you...afterwards?” he questioned carefully.
“She...” Angie coughed violently, “couldn’t get out. I saw her. Right through my window. Honest. She used to be my babysitter, so sometimes she’d leave me pictures she drew taped on her window. See? You can see her house out my window.”

Sure enough, when Dante rose up slightly and peered out the window on the far wall, he saw the burned remains of a house across the street.

“Wait. You saw her? When her house was burning?” Dante asked, noting that Angie’s attention was starting to fade in and out.
“Yeah. Her house is so old, so you can’t open the windows anymore. She couldn’t get it open. Her room was on fire, but she couldn’t open the window. She tried. She hit her window lots, too.” Angela’s voice lowered to a small whisper here. “ But...she saw me. When she caught on fire, she said something. My name, I think, but I don’t know. Then, she just kept screaming. Over and over. The smoke was so bad that I couldn’t see Ally after that...I couldn’t see her, mister. Honest.”
“It’s...alright. I understand now. That’s why Ally picked you. You were there. You wanted to help her, didn’t you? It’s okay, Angie. You did all you could.”
“Mister?”
“...yeah?”
“Can I go to sleep now? I’m really sleepy. Honest. Please, mister?”
It was hard to force anything past the lump in his throat, but Dante eventually managed a simple “yeah” as a response.

Angela’s eyes slowly drooped shut.

Her chest stopped moving a few moments after that.

The demonic seal on the door shattered with her last breath.

The hunter raised wordlessly, the cooling blood dripping from the legs of his leather pants and his fingertips. With a flick of his wrist, he unlocked the girl’s window and leaped out of it effortlessly to the streets below.

Nearly an hour later, two frighteningly inhuman wails resounded from the house.


So he had run. He truly was a coward. A foolish coward who could not face his own mistakes. However, even foolish cowards seek solace when they are down and out. Comfort. Everyone seeks it. Everyone needs to be reassured that someone else out there shares their pain. Their despair. For Dante, there was only one person who had ever shared the pain he felt and offered comfort for it. Only one person.

The young hunter donned his still-bloody clothing and rose up. As he stepped out into the rainy night, he only had one thought in his mind: a need for comfort.


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Hope you enjoyed that! Tell ya what. Since this first chapter was five pages long, how about once I get five reviews I'll upload the next chapter? That sound good? ^_^ Thankies, folks!