Devil May Cry

Two words.

So simple.

So soft.

Yet they slammed into him like a mountain, crushing what little resolve he had left.

It was barely more than a whisper, but it carried the weight of her every scream.

Every moment he'd failed.

Every life of hers he couldn't save.

Her body convulsed slightly, the black veins spreading further.

Slowly, she was twisting into something unrecognizable but depressingly familiar.

Malik's hands trembled as he reached for his dagger.

For the first time, his eyes showed a certain emotion.

One that'd make anyone step back.

Not anger. Not fear.

Despair.

Pure, unrelenting despair.

He turned back to Jasmine.

The blackness consumed her like a living thing.

Her one good eye met his, and in that moment, he saw...

'A-Ah... no.'

He saw something that tore him apart more than anything else ever could.

She wasn't scared.