Demon's Tears: The Unseen War

The distant howling of a timberwolf could be heard in the distance as Vanilla picked up her pace, hoping to get home as quickly as she could. The light of Princess Luna’s Moon was just enough to light the street ahead of her, but in the shadows, anypony could be lurking - so keeping an eye on said shadows was a necessity - one wrong turn and you’d be mugged at knifepoint, and that was the last thing Vanilla needed, especially after dealing with Dante yet again. She could almost imagine him walking next to her, wearing that confident smirk of his and letting out yet another quip. “Looks like somepony’s alone in the dark. Makes a stallion wonder what you’re doing out so late without protection - then again, some of the ponies around here never did use any~”

Vanilla shivered at the thought, inwardly cursing Dante’s cocky demeanor for mixing with her dirty mind and giving her such an idea. As if she wasn’t already fertilising whichever weeds might have been in the cracks of the pavement with the thought of being stabbed or mugged, now she was worried about some overly-horny stallion having his way with her, right there in the middle of the street. Matter of fact, being out this late might’ve seen somepony mistake her for a whore, especially since every fifth store in this district was a flophouse. Who knew how many ponies were out there on these streets bow-legged ‘cause they decided they wanted an easy flop.

Unfortunately for Vanilla, losing herself in her thoughts had been a bad idea, as no sooner than she snapped back itno reality, she had let out a shriek of terror as a grey-coated, black-maned Pegasus sprang out from behind a dustbin, a maniacal look in his eyes.
“Hello, pretty lady… It’s late, don’t you think?”
Vanilla froze. This was only the second time in her life she'd been mugged, and it was every bit as terrifying as it had been that first time. Every inkling of her conscience told her to bolt now, to try and run as fast as she could back home, but her body just wasn't able to make itself follow her brain's advice... Terrified out of her wits, the poor mare did not reply, simply whimpering in fear and desperately looking lef and right, hoping against hope that somepony would be kind, and stupid, enough to help her out of this predicament...
“But enough talk. Hand over your cash and I’ll let you go.”
“I… I don’t…have any...” Vanilla squeaked as the assailant’s beady eyes surveyed her body.
“We’ll see about that… But if you’re right, you’ll probably have to pay me in something more than just money…”

The Pegasus gave a toothy, evil grin as he advanced on the helpless Vanilla, who was now absolutely paralysed with fear. Was she really this unlucky, to start worrying about being raped and suddenly suffer exactly that? No way… There had to be somepony. Somepony would help her if…

She opened her mouth and tried to scream as loud as she could. “HEL-mmmph!” Unfortunately, this Pegasus clearly knew how to deal with such situations, as within an instant, his hoof was firmly planted inside her mouth, silencing her.
“Now now… You’ll wake the neighbors.” he whispered, sniggering. In a strange, morbid way, Vanilla was almost reminded of…
“Am I interrupting something?”
...Dante.

Of all the ponies to come to her rescue, it had to be the single most irritating one she knew. There he was - confident grin, red trenchcoat, white mane and all, staring right at her attacker with a challenging look in his eyes.
The attacker, meanwhile, turned to face Dante, his expression becoming annoyed. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away and forget you ever saw this.”
Dante replied without a pause. “Well, I know what’s good for me, but I still haven’t eaten my greens for a long time.”
“You know what I mean!”
“Of course I do - doesn’t mean I have to follow it.”
“Alright, then… I’ll deal with sweet cheeks here, and then I’ll deal with you, you cocky little slimeball!”
“Hey, I may not eat my greens, but I do shower, so I'd say I’m not really 'slimy', per se.”
Vanilla simply observed this altercation, hoping that Dante would just get on with it. As much as she wasn’t happy with being rescued by him of all ponies, he was still rescuing her, so she figured she might as well hope he did so before she was killed. Or rutted. Or both.

The attacker, meanwhile, seemed to be getting more and more irritated with every quip, and Vanilla couldn’t blame him. He suddenly turned away from Vanilla, rounding on Dante instead. “OK! If you say one more word, I will gut you like a fucking tuna fish and eat your entrails in a toasted sandwich."
There was then a deadly silence… which was promptly broken when Dante smiled mockingly, leaned closer towards the Pegasus and muttered, in his most sardonic voice: “One more word~”
That did it. The attacking Pegasus bellowed in purest anger and lunged at Dante, eager to beat the living daylights out of the cocky little brat. But, little did he know that he was soon to become the next on an ever-expanding list of ponies who thought they could stand a chance against Dante, and was proven horribly, horribly wrong.

No sooner than the pony had lunged at him, Dante had dodged out of the way and pushed him in the back, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. He rolled onto his back, but Dante was already upon him, punching his face. It was then, however, that something unanticipated happened. The Pegasus drew out an incredibly long knife and attempted to stab Dante several times, but each time, Dante managed to succeessfully block his attempt - until after about seven stabs, at which point the Pegasus finally got lucky. Cackling with glee, he made one final stab - and plunged the knife deep into Dante’s chest.

“DANTE!!” Vanilla shrieked as she watched the Pegasus's knife pierce Dante's skin over and over with wild abandon, cackling like a hyena as he did so. With every strike, Dante's body grew more and more limp, until eventually he collapsed on the ground, the Pegasus’s knife sticking out of one of his many wounds, breathing lightly, his eyes still open. As much as Vanilla thought Dante was a bit of a smartass, she would never wish death upon him - so seeing him now was a massive shock to her system. Quivering, she watched these events unfold with tears in her eyes…

The Pegasus, meanwhile, turned to look at her, his smile still maniacal. “Now it’s your turn, girlie!” Vanilla breathed slowly as the menacing figure advanced towards her, cackling louder and louder as his grin became even more gleeful. “Your friend’s dead now… and you’re in my trap yet again!"

“What makes you think I'm dead?”

Both Vanilla and the Pegasus gasped, and turned their heads sharply to look at Dante’s bleeding body - to see Dante slowly pulling the sharp blade out of his chest and getting right back to his hooves as if nothing at all had happened. “Now… Where were we?” He added, smirking as confidently as ever.

Vanilla and the Pegasus were both equally gobsmacked at the sight before them. Dante had just been stabbed through the chest several times with a very large and very nasty knife, and not only had he survived, he had pulled the knife straight out of his chest and just shrugged it all off... Nopony could have survived that - no normal pony, that is.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Dante snickered - but he did not give the Pegasus a chance to answer as he threw a punch at his face with the speed of a pouncing leopard. The Pegasus was thrown across the street by Dante's punch, only narrowly missing Vanilla and landing unconscious beside a street lamp, blood trickling from his mouth.

“Not the sharpest tool in the shed, that one.” Dante remarked, flicking away the bloodstained knife and approaching Vanilla, who was still petrified, half from the fright of nearly being cornered by the thug, and half from the shock of seeing Dante being stabbed.
“Wha-- Who-- YOU?!” was all the astonished mare could manage to blurt out as Dante, whose wounds were healing incredibly rapidly, approached her.
“Cat got your tongue too? Gosh, I’d like to see that cat’s tongue collection.”
At that moment, Vanilla's fragile mind snapped completely. She had just been assaulted by a would-be rapist, seen one of the few ponies she considered a friend, even if he was a bit of a smartass and got on her nerves all the time, attacked and stabbed beyond the point that any normal pony would be able to survive, and THEN saw that very same pony shrug it all off as it it were nothing. She was dazed, confused and violently shaken, so it thus would not have been much of a surprise that at that moment, her brain decided it needed some time to process all this madness, and as such decided to put her entire body into hibernate mode - which is a long and fancy way of saying "she fainted".

Dante smirked yet again as Vanilla gaped for a few seconds before collapsing onto the cold, concrete pavement before him. "Swooning before your dashing rescuer - how cliché~" He commented, lifting the poor pony onto his back. "But anyway - I've never slept in any good beds that were made of concrete, so I don't think you should take any chances." He might have been a smartass, but he was not by any stretch callous. He could never have just left the poor mare there, she might get mugged again, or develop pneumonia from the cold. That said, Dante also did not know where it was Vanilla lived. All he knew was that she lived in this area, but beyond tat he couldn't even begin to venture a guess. But there was one place which he did know was very close, and that was his shop. Well, I ain't had a sleepover since I was a foal... he thought to himself. Maybe now would be a good time to relive the nostalgia, as it were. He turned on his hoof and walked back up the road, Vanilla (and his hitherto-forgotten pizza, which had by some miracle escaped unscathed) in tow.

It wasn’t very long before Dante finally reached the old shop which he called home. He wasn't sure what it was he'd liked about the place… Perhaps it was the price, considering the place's size. Perhaps it was the fact that it didn’t really require much upkeep, not that Dante ever bothered to do much. Whatever it was, there was definitely something about the questionable neighborhood, the shabby stone walls and the the splintery door that made Dante feel weirdly... at home. Pulling a key out of his pocket with his magic, he unlocked the peeling door, entering the establishment, Vanilla still on his back.

The door opened onto a somewhat large entrance-hall, which Dante had hastily converted into a reception by simply putting a desk at the far end and lining the walls with a number of filing cabinets, some of which were still open, the files strewn over the floor. The floor was comprised of red tiles - for the most part, at least, because the rest of it was covered in litter and the like, strewn all over the place, save for a tall, oddly neatly-stacked pile of pizza boxes against one of the walls. Dante considered it his excuse for not decorating the place - he could have gone out and bought a few paintings, but heck, give a critic a painting you made by dropping a paint pucket on some canvas and they’ll still find meaning in it. Maybe someday he'd try gluing it all together and giving it some cheesy name, see if any modern-art enthusiasts fell for it.

As Dante entered the spacious entrance-hall-cum-reception, he spotted a letter on top of the large pile of tan scrolls which had over time piled up on the doormat. This letter stood out from the rest - this one was incredibly small, and was lined with an unusual blue ink. Also, whereas all the official scrolls had been painstakingly inscribed with his full address, this one was simply addressed to “Dante” in fancy handwriting. Dante let out a solitary, mocking laugh - He knew of only one pony who would send him such a letter. He floated the letter towards him and undid the wax seal holding it in its roll, unrolling the miniscule sheet of parchment.

Your actions this evening upset the applecart. You’ll need to watch your back a bit more from now on, lest they catch you off guard. -V.

Dante chuckled slightly as he read this note. "Heh, is that a challenge? I'd like to see them try - and I'd like to see him try too~" he said casually as he crumpled the message up, tossing it to one side and trotting over to a nearby door, leading into his incredibly messy living room. This simply contained a squashy sofa, several posters, a rag-rug and a large sound system, but it still managed to look less bare than the reception area, likely due to its small size in comparison. Dante floated the unconscious Vanilla onto the sofa, covering her with a moth-eaten blanket wrapped around the arm before trotting happily back into the reception and jumping into his chair, opening up the box floating next to him.

The air was thus filled with the stench of cheese, tomato, and something truly awful that could only be described as being like shoving two white-hot chilli peppers into every single respiratory orifice one one’s body and breathing in, hard. This was a smell that both Dante and Vanilla had come to terms with over the years, having been exposed to it almost daily for several years. As such, the pungeant stench did not disturb Vanilla from her trauma-induced sleep, simply causing her to snuffle a bit and turn over, nestling slightly into the sofa as she slept on. Little did Vanilla know, however, that tonight had been just the first in a series of unusual events which would change the course of her life, and Dante's, forever...