Primal

She felt stupid.


No. No she really did. Lady sat on the greasy bench of a subway car, the loud blaring of rusty tracks doing nothing to quell her anxiety at the night's activities. Everything had gone wrong. Of course, nothing had really gone right for some time either.


Her eyes closed as she willed away the embarrassment and shame. She felt dirty and stupid. Like a whore, just as he'd said. The bastard. Why was evil always given the face of angels? Why did beauty make you question what you already knew?


Her hands clasped tightly as the car lurched sideways, a filthy old beggar woman across from her remarking something about the subway moving too fast. But then everything felt too fast these days. Chaotic really. Like she was forever being pulled behind a train, trying to keep her legs moving so as not to simply be yanked violently across the ground. But she could never catch up. Never.


She felt more human than ever, seeing Dante's eyes in her mind, the flash of sadistic detachment that immediately made him seem no better than his brother. She could do this alone, she knew that. She'd never been the type to rely on benevolent efforts of others and knew well enough that loneliness in her line of work was as much a part of it as anything else. Still, she missed him.


It seemed at one time, that in all the vastness of the world, he was the only one who understood her. They would walk for hours, patrolling for the big bads, and sometimes just losing each other in their own grief. She could speak about her father to him. The rest of the world could perceive her as being immaculately conceived for all she cared. But Dante knew the truth as no one else did.


One day he had finally asked her, and she knew well enough that it had been a long time coming, if her father had ever sexually abused her.


"My father loved me." was all she'd answered. "My father always loved me."


And he had. He had loved her very much when she'd knelt before him, seeing a tiny necklace dangle in his fingers before her face went into his lap. The bastard. The worst sexual abuse ever, in her mind, was the kind the victim learned to like. And she had. She'd liked it when her father had touched her, even in places he really shouldn't have. And that's why she hated herself. Because she hadn't known well enough to hate it.


The subway was a rank means of travel and she knew it, resting her chin against her palms as they journeyed on, the car blissfully empty save for the old woman who seemed content to simply stare at Lady. She rolled her eyes, mumbling something unintelligible under her breath as they moved through the darkest tunnel.


'Oh great,' Lady thought to herself dismally. 'The lights are out again.'


Her eyes squinted though, when even the dim, dank lights of the car began to flicker, the old woman managing to tear her gaze away long enough to notice the same.


"Damn city," the beggar growled. "This whole fucking place has gone to- "


Salt sprayed into Lady's eyes only a second after the woman had been cut off, the entire train going pitch black dark.


"Shit!" Lady cried, furiously trying get the hot liquid out of her face and eyes. Panic gripped her as her fingers came away stained with whatever had splattered against her, the lights flickering only enough to reveal them as completely red with blood and clots. Her hands shook as she stared in them, pleading that a thousand horror filled nights had left her crazy and paranoid.


"Oh my God," she whispered, lips trembling as she searched the darkness of the train, lids pulled back from her eyes as far as they would go. Trembling fingers touched the plastic blue of her seat, legs wobbling as she gribbed a metal bar and hoisted herself into standing.


"Where....." She swallowed. "Where are you lady?"


But no one answered.


She stumbled as the car shifted violently around a corner. She swallowed again, mentally berating herself for this cowardice before gripping the handle of her pistol and yanking it from her holster. A spark of electricity calmed her for a second, the shape of the old woman, still staring shamelessly at her, coming into view. Dry, old hair crinkled around her dirty face, eyes wide and eerie.


"You uhh....gave me quite a scare." Lady stammered, absolutely hating her complete inability to properly communicate with other humans. "Are you bleeding or something? Ya hurt?"


The old lady answered only by shutting her mouth, her head lopping right off her shoulders and splattering on the floor. Lady bit down the scream that weld in her throat, stepping backwards when blood and flesh burst towards her boots from the bloody stump of a neck that soon after met the ground. Hot breath came against the back of her neck, the tiny hairs rising.


With impeccable speed, she'd wrenched her twin gun out of the holster, pointing both towards either side of the car. She could feel whatever it was, breathing all around her, her skin crawling with the sensation.


"Come... come out where I can see you." She commanded, rolling her eyes at how positively cliche and movie-like that sounded.


"Come out, come out wherever you are." A voice came, sounding EXACTLY like hers!


She dove towards the back of the car, planting her shoulders against the rear window as she aimed at the rest of the train. Cruel, patronizing laughter filled the silence, shadows growing on opposite sides from one another, near the windows. They continued to grow from the floor up, nearly ten man-sized shadows lurching upwards.


"Mary." one of them whispered, nearer to her than she had thought. "Mary."


"S-stay back!" she ordered, firing at the shadow. The bullet went straight through the steam-like blackness, ricocheting off metal.


"Mary...." The shadows whispered longer this time, absorbing every syllable. She actually swore aloud when she noticed the quivering of her gun.


"No." The shadows suddenly spat, crawling towards her. She backed away in panic, cursing when she could go no further and her head met the rear window entirely. "Not Mary."


The metal of her guns rattled together as she held them side by side, pointing towards the floor as the shadows slowly merged together. Her teeth clenched together as the huge shadow rose from the ground, black as tar and twice as thick, rising to the size of nearly 7 feet. It loomed over her, moving even closer as she inched every last piece of her skin away from it.


"Not Mary." One voice came from the shadow, familiar.


She gazed in horror as the shadow began to take form, pale fingers seeming to reach out of the blackness, white skin and expensive clothing absorbing the liquid-like smog. The lips and throat soon became visible and Lady gasped in terror, nearly dropping her guns in the process. Clear, silvery blue eyes seemed to smile at her despite their cruelness, the perfect mouth following their lead.


"Lady." Vergil whispered in his cold, silky voice.


"Vergil," Lady smiled sweetly. "And here I was so afraid you were dead."


With a battle cry she was on him, her legs wrapped around his waist as she fired into his smug smile, literally shoving the barrel of her pistol into his mouth and blowing holy hell right through him. Seemingly caught off guard, Vergil hurled her through the air, her back scrapping against the roof of the car as she continued firing. She landed painfully on her ankle, figuring it was a nasty spring as she knelt, reloading before continuing her assault.


Vergil had yet to retaliate, focusing on healing his damaged face. Lady knew well enough it was his style to feel out an opponent, to let them work out all frustrations before he ultimately finished it. That was fine with her. Really. It would be a decent death if it meant wiping a smile off the pretty boy's face.


The subway suddenly lurched to a stop, lights flickering as the door came open, Lady instantly rolling out of it and facing towards the sliding door frame before unleashing another barrage of bullets. Vergil flew out of the train, the mass of her fire sinking into his chest before the quick flash of his blade sent them ricocheting around the station. Lady dove to the side to avoid being hit, rolling behind a large cement pillar as she reloaded once more.


"Now now," he was laughing in his aristocratic voice. "is that any way for a lady to behave?"


She rolled her eyes. Cliche enough. Dante probably said that on a daily basis.


She lunged from her hiding place, firing at him once more. His hands were on her instantaneously, her body flung towards a bench, her side and right thigh feeling crushed against the metal bars as the force literally pulled the chair from the concrete ground. She heard the skitter of her guns clacking across the cement surface, sliding away from her. Lady's teeth grit in her mouth as she struggled to at least get to her hands and knees, her thigh and ankle throbbing from abuse.


She felt a hiss of air filter through her teeth as her hair was yanked backwards, her bare knees scrapping the rough ground as he positioned himself behind her.


"Ohh Mary," he sighed against her face, listening to her harsh breathing. "You know I hate to hurt you. Though I do know how you love it when I pull your hair."


For emphasis he gave it a vicious tug, earning a gasp and a grinding of her teeth. He pushed his pelvis against her backside, smirk winding its way through his features when she caught her breath, obviously sensing just how much he adored the sight of her fighting against him.


"This isn't how I wanted our reunion to go," He sighed honestly, letting his fingers glide over her exposed throat and collarbone. He felt another hitch in her breath and probably against her will, her backside rubbed against him, lifting slightly. His teeth glittered in the shadowy room, his fingers dipping beneath her shirt to touch the heat hiding behind her bra.


"What did you.." She stammered. "What did you want to happen?"


"Oh I think you know," he grinned, sliding his other hand along her thigh. "Perhaps a welcome back kiss?"


"Oh." She whispered sexually, her tiny fingers inching in front of her. "Well how about you kiss THIS!"


In a second flat she'd ripped out a thick metal pole --loosely protruding from the ground-- spun herself onto her back and delivered a bone crunching swing to the side of Vergil's head. The force was enough to send him flying away from her, Lady's body groaning as she scrambled to obtain her weapons. Vergil's impressive speed was put to the test as he came at her, yamato smashing against the thick metal pole she held tightly in her hands.


"You were always good." Vergil smiled approvingly, humoring her.


"I'm even better now." She smirked in a cocky tone.


She hurled the pole towards him, the two metals clashing with sparks as he held her off, a patient look on his beautiful face. They twisted this way and that, Vergil climbing up walls to avoid her violent attacks, wall tile bursting into the air when she'd miss. Gracefully he'd float down, matching her every move, taunting her efforts. Teeth ground in her mouth when she suddenly missed, the tip of his blade against her spine as he dove behind her.


"Gotcha." His voice came. "Turn around."


She slowly dropped the metal bat, the clank deafening as she maneuvered her body around, the tip of yamato purposefully sliding over her chest.


"I have you right where I want you," He breathed through full lips, eyes staring intently into hers. "Surrender to me."


Very slowly, inch by inch, she smiled at him, the sound of guns cocking making him glance downwards.


"Never." She breathed sexually, both barrels of her guns pointed directly at his cock.


They stared at each other in this stalemate, his blade against her heart, her guns against his pants. His smile had faded, his mind no doubt weighing the options. Every part of a Sparda could grow back if the heart continued to beat, that was true enough. Still, his eyes lingered towards the precious target at stake, lips going to the side in a frustrated expression.


The seconds ticked before he ultimately made his decision, lowering his blade for the moment. As if following his lead, Lady raised her guns, positioning them to fire at his chest if need be. The long stare continued, her eyes searching every feature of his face, so like that of Dante's yet somehow so miraculously different. The face she'd stared at when such a young girl, hours wasted in such a time that now seemed lifetimes ago. She'd probably written his stupid name a thousand times in her diary when younger, first filled with such an idea of pure youthful fantasy and then later replaced with absolute hatred.


"Why'd you come back?" She shook her head, willing away emotion.


"You missed me." He stated simply.


"I mourned you." She nodded. "I grieved when I knew you'd fallen, when I felt you go. But that process is over. Why are you here?"


"I saw you," He ignored her question. "I saw you fall to the floor when you felt me die. I saw your tears Mary. Every single one of them."


Lady snarled inside at this comment, recalling the sensation of pain and emptiness, so great she had known his presence had left the world. Like feeling the sun wouldn't shine ever again, or that the stars in the sky had been burned out.


"You wouldn't know anything about tears," She glared at him, inching backwards.


"I saw you fall," He said again, moving towards her despite her attempt to put distance between them. "And some how, I don't think you've ever gotten up again."


"You don't know me anymore," She growled, turning away from him.


"Do we change so dramatically Mary?" His smooth voice came closely behind her, his hands going across her stomach sensually. "I knew you more than anyone else in the world long ago. You were mine entirely. Or don't you remember?"


His lips went against her shoulder, hands sliding down her arms before capturing her palms. He lifted her hands, positioning them on her body and forcing them to roam wherever he chose. She moaned almost sorrowfully as he pulled her onto his lap on the floor.


"Even your precious daddy never knew you, did he?" He laughed cruelly, fingers sliding beneath her shirt. "Never knew what his darling daughter did, all alone in her room, thinking of me. Never knew the creamy liquid on her fingers was all because of me. You were his before you were ever mine Mary, but you gave yourself to me willingly, you know that. I never made you love me."


She struggled to hold back emotion, biting her lips and turning her head shamefully as he touched her bare breast, the clasp of her bra coming undone beneath her shirt. He fondled her painfully, squeezing the hot, full flesh, tugging hard on her nipples.


"Ohhh but if only daddy had known," He smiled. "Do you remember? Do you remember that night how I found you? Your legs were spread so far, just like this," his hands slowly forced her thighs apart, the cool air shocking against her already moist panties. "Your fingers were so deep inside yourself, back arching as you said my name. You just said it. Said it like you were right out of a movie. So sad your daddy never knew."


His hands slid down, both on the insides of her thighs.


"His plan WOULD have worked you know," He breathed. "His beautiful priestess daughter, the blood of the sparda twins. It was really perfect. Ingenious in fact. If only he had known that his precious priestess wasn't a virgin, that the purity of her blood soiled his plot. He would have taken the form of the mighty Sparda himself. Instead, you left him in nothing more than a tainted, awkward, useless blob of uncontrollable power. You really did get your vengeance Mary."


"Stop it." She whispered, wincing when his fingers came so close, fingering the lace of her panties.


"Why?" She could feel his smile as he kissed her throat, his sharp teeth leaving tiny red trails. His finger slowly crept beneath her underwear, feeling the soaking wet lips of her vagina. "It could be like old times. You used to love this remember?"


Two fingers slid inside of her, pushing deeply upwards as she moaned out, his other hand squeezing her right breast so painfully she wanted to scream.


Suddenly he stopped, the fingers still buried deeply in her, his lips no longer on her throat but lingering.


"Someone else has been inside you." He stated coldly, eyes staring straight forward.


The catch in her breathing had said enough, the scent of her wet sex, mingled with another's, taunting his nostrils.


"So," He said in a hateful voice. "how is my brother?"