{Dante} The Devil Cries an Angel's Tears {Sparda}

{Dante} The Devil Cries an Angel's Tears {Sparda} Chapter Six

.C.H.A.P.T.E.R. .S.I.X.

Sofia choked on her tears as she was struggling to comprehend what she allowed to happen. Her breathing was rapid and rushed. She was struggling to hold on to anything, what was there left to hold to? Her father was dead, her son was almost as good as, and she had lost her whole life.

"It will be okay Soph, we will get him back."

"H-How-w?"

"I don't know, but I promise we will."

Dante pulled Sofia closer to him as she rested on her son's bed. This was destroying her and he could clearly see that. He held her closer, he wanted to take her hurt, he wanted to make her feel better. She clasped the teddy bear to her chest, hugging it tightly, rocking gently trying to sooth her pain.

Dante swiftly picked Sofia up and exited the room. the longer she dwelled on this the worse she would be. He took her downstairs, kicking down the front door so he could get her out of that damn house. He placed her in the passenger seat of her mustang and quickly went back inside to collect her stuff. He chucked that in the back and got into the driver's seat, high-tailing it out of there as quickly as he could. He needed to get her somewhere away from the memories.

He stopped outside his shop and lifted her out of the car, carrying her inside. He jumped upstairs and gently lowered her to the bed. She was asleep now, exhausted mentally. He sat next to her, watching her. He could identify the hidden pained look on her face, and it affected him more than he expected to see it. She affected him more than he thought any person could.

He moved away from the bed before he did something he might regret. He escaped to the bathroom, thoughts were swimming through his head, and some of them he was ashamed of. He wanted to hurt her, he wanted to cut her open and drink from her blood. Although he had no idea why he could not push the thought from his head, he wanted to bite her, and lick the blood off of her body. He had always been disgusted with vampiric blood lust before, and now, he hated it even more. How could he think of doing something like that, to her?

He let the shower run cold before he got in. He had to rid the thoughts from his head somehow, and, this, seemed the only quick solution. He stepped in, letting the cold water cool his thoughts. He put a hand up to the wall and leant against it. Why did he think that? Although he had pushed the thought to the dark corners of his mind the reason behind it intrigued him. He had never thought anything like this before, and he hoped he would never again. Yet there was some part of him that liked it, some part of him that dared to do it.

He shut the shower of breaking it as he did so. He was furious with himself for the disgusting thought, even more so for wanting to do it. He wrapped a towel around himself and walked back in to the bedroom, avoiding Sofia's angelic sleeping body. He grabbed his trousers quickly put them on, got his stuff and walked downstairs. He holstered his guns and put his coat somewhere along with his sword. He took Sofia's stuff out of the car and then drove it back to her house, parking it in the garage.

The walk back to his shop was slow, and cold. The sun, which had only risen four hours ago, was hidden beneath darkened purple clouds. He had noticed the arrival of the tower on his street and knew that it was where he would meet his fate inside. How could Vergil be so heartless as to take her son? That was a new low. Drake was a little boy, barely four years old. Would Vergil kill him or was he just bait?

Questions swam through Dante's head but it was a much-wanted relief to the thoughts that wanted to resurface. The wind attacked his bear torso, trying to rouse some reaction from him, but it was a distant memory to the foreign pain in his heart. He walked back into his shop and picked up his phone ordering a pizza. He needed something familiar to bring him back to his old self.