Dante vs Bayonetta: The Witch Dances with the Devil Chapter 3

The blonde haired woman scans across the small army of monstrous demons before her. Her confidence is still unwavering but she is not without concern. “Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have left those behind,” she said, cursing herself. The demons stand ready to pounce on their golden haired prey and tear her asunder as they have done to countless other victims before her.

Suddenly, a shiny object flies through the air, aimed for the Assault Leader second from the woman’s right. The large demon notices the sword after it had bored through its body. The Assault Leader crumbles to dust. The rest of the demons look towards a dark alley a few yards away that was the sword’s point of origin. The woman looks as well.

“Now c’mon, I know you can do better than this,” a voice pipes up from the dark alley. Heavy footsteps approach from the darkness. They belong to the man who emerges from the alley. The demons are taken aback by the man’s appearance. An appearance that is all too familiar to them. Wearing a lengthy red trench coat and carrying a massive sword that is as long as he is tall, Dante stands under the street light wearing a his trademark charismatic grin. The light upon him casts an almost angelic glow, reflecting off his silver hair with a radiant shine.

“I take it you’re done with your mission,” the blonde woman said to Dante casually.

“Yep, just came to check on you. Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble with these guys. That’s not like you, Trish,” said Dante.

“I was doing just fine, thank you,” said the blonde woman named Trish.

“Oh yeah, I see how well you’re doing. You got everything well in hand,” Dante retorted with his usual banter.

Trish, being his partner, has gotten used to Dante’s sarcasm. Furthermore, she’s probably the only other person who can dish it back at him. “Look, are you here to help out or just hear yourself talk?” she shot at him.

Just like she’s able to read him, Dante knows just how to push Trish’s buttons and which ones to push. “I brought that didn’t I?” he says.

Trish looks at the sword Dante tossed. It is a massive, nightmarish blade that pulsated with demonic power. The sword’s size nearly dwarfed Dante’s blade. Unlike Rebellion, Dante’s sword, which is double edged, this sword, Sword of Sparda, has a single edge that ran the weapon’s length down to its hilt. Trish is tall herself but the Sword of Sparda’s hilt was still a bit above her head though it is jammed into the ground. One would expect someone of great strength to wield the blade, but Trish plucks from the ground like a feather.

“Hey, you’re gonna need these, too,” Dante called to Trish. He removes a pair of sunglasses from his coat pocket and, with a sharp flick of the wrist, tosses them to Trish, who plucks them out of the air and slides them on.

“Now that’s better,” Trish says with satisfaction. What she was cursing herself for leaving behind was her sunglasses. True, the Sword of Sparda helps, but her true fighting abilities come forth when she dons her shades. With them on, her enemies can’t predict her movements by looking at her eyes. Plus, they make her look good. “Now if I can hurry this up I just might be able to squeeze in getting my hair washed,” Trish said, returning her attention to the demons around her.

“You mean that place you usually go to,” Dante says having eavesdropped on Trish. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen. They’re closed.”

“They close at ten,” Trish said back.

“It’s about that right now,” Dante tells her. “Looks like you’re gonna have to wash your hair yourself. Plus you might want to go for another trim to straighten it out.” Trish asks him what he meant. “Looks like someone nicked it a little, bottom right,” said Dante.

Trish reaches for her golden locks where Dante told her the damage was. There is a space where a few strands are missing. Looking across the demons she spots the culprit. Hanging from the claws of an Assault to the right were a few strands of Trish’s golden mane. Trish maybe a demon created by the former Ruler of the Underworld, but she still has human qualities. Like any average woman, she likes to pamper herself when she’s not hunting demons, especially when it comes to her hair. Only two people are allowed to touch her hair—her hair dresser and herself. “You cut my hair. Only Alejandro is allowed to cut my hair,” Trish said, emphasizing each word. She flips her severed locks back and aims the Sword of Sparda at the Assault who gave her the unwanted trim. “I’m saving you for last,” Trish says, looking sharply at the lizard demon.

“Those guys are toast,” Dante says as he eases himself on the steps of the house next to him, propping his sword by his side.

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