This was the first story I wrote. I don't think very many people read it though. I made a huge mistake in putting it all in one chapter so I'm attempting to fix that. Thanks go to HanyouKayleeSama and Penniewise for reviewing this the first time around.
Disclaimer; I Don't own Devil May Cry, even though I wish I did
Devil May Cry - The Cult
Prologue:
It was the exact type of cold December night that threatened snow, yet the skies stayed clear. The priest's watch read 10.55, his day was almost over. He was idly thinking of what he was going to do for the Christmas sermon when the church door burst open. A girl who looked barely a few years older than his teenage sister ran over to him. She was barefoot, wearing what looked like a black robe and she was in tears, clearly terrified of something. She ran over to him and spoke quickly, a pleading tone to her voice, in what sounded like Russian to the priest. This was no good; he didn't speak any languages other than English. She saw his confusion and stopped. Then she leaned forward and put her hand on her stomach. For the first time he noticed how large it was. Her robes had obscured it but it was now obvious that the girl was pregnant.
19 years later:
The sign above the door read 'Devil Never Cry', yet the clients insisted on using its old name. Inside sat a man who couldn't care less what people were calling it. He was the devil hunter Dante, son of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, and right now he was bored. The radio was blasting out some obscure rock band that nobody had ever heard of. He wasn't really listening to it. His partner Trish was off helping take care of things at Vie de Marli but Dante had been keen to put as much distance between himself and that as possible. Still, right now there wasn't much to do around here. That was probably why he didn't just shoot the intruder straight away. He hadn't even noticed anyone come in until the radio plug was pulled out of the wall.
"You know, I was listening to that". He said, turning his chair to better see the intruder.
"You're a very poor liar, Mr. Dante Sparda, isn't it?" A woman. She spoke with a Russian accent. Dante could see her clearly now. She was petit, about 5"2 if he had to guess, in her late 30's with raven black hair and dressed for business.
"And you are?" He asked
"My name is Natalia Romanov and I need your help. My daughter has disappeared and it is very important that I find her"
It wasn't what she said, more the way she said it that got Dante's interest. Not once did she give the impression of a mother fraught with concern, more like this was business, as if losing her child was no more important than losing a pen.
"Sorry, I don't do pro bono cases" he said
"Money is not a concern to me" she replied "I'd pay you whatever you want"
"It's not to me either; you're just wasting my time"
"I'm sorry you feel that way. I'll leave a photograph of her, in case you change your mind. My numbers on the back" She placed a photo of a girl, about 15, on the desk. She was playing basketball and had the same dark hair as her mother.
"This picture was taken a few years ago; she's a little older now"
"Whatever, close the door on your way out"
With that Natalia Romanov left, no last minute hysterics or verbal abuse like he had expected, she just left. Dante was a little disappointed. He picked up the photo to have a better look. He couldn't place it but for some reason she seemed almost familiar, but he had never seen her before, he was sure of it.
"You're not seriously thinking of taking her up, are you?" A new speaker, a man this time. Dante looked up, a geeky looking man in his late 20's, wearing glasses and a checked shirt.
"Two in one night, I didn't know morons traveled in packs" said Dante, dropping the picture
"That's cold, y'know I went to a lot of trouble to get here, the least you could do is hear me out"
"Well, its not like I've got anything better to do" Dante propped his feet up on the desk.
"Natalia Romanov is dead" said the man
"You're full of it, she was just here"
"Yeah, about that, err... have you ever seen that movie with Bruce Willis and that dumb kid?" He asked
"What, 'I see dead people', what's that have to do with anything?"
"My name is Wilson Greene and I am dead"
"You're both dead?" Dante wasn't convinced
"We recognize our own"
Dante stood up. He was a lot taller than Wilson was. Wilson held his arms in a 'here I am' gesture. Dante threw a punch. It passed straight through Wilson's head.
"Yeah, that happens" said Wilson
"You've convinced me, now talk"
-
Outside, the woman who had introduced herself as Natalia Romanov picked up the receiver of a payphone and dialed a number, when she spoke all traces of Russian were gone from her voice.
"Its me, he believed I was who I said I was, but he didn't seem interested in what I had to say, I don't think he'll get involved" she listened to the other speaker's response, then said
"By Brajin's will" before hanging up.
-
"This is what happened" Wilson began,"I am, or rather I was, what you might call a scholar of history. My Grandpa was an archaeologist. He found this manuscript pretty early on in his career, dedicated the rest of his life to translating it. It kinda turned into the family business"
"You translated it?" Dante asked
"Oh yeah, my life's work! Turns out that it was some kind of prophecy about a devil named Brajin, now apparently he was..."
"Mundus' right hand, I know" Dante interrupted
"Who's Mundus?" asked Wilson
"None of your business"
"As I was saying, I finished translating it, and Brajin's followers wanted it"
"Brajin has followers"
"A whole cult of them, all dedicated to bringing him back"
"And he'll be dedicated to bringing back his master" Dante mused "They killed you for knowing too much, so how does the girl figure into all of this".
Wilson moved to pick up the photo. His fingers passed through the desk as if there was nothing there. He looked at his hand, almost embarrassed
"They're gonna kill her" he said. Dante picked up the photo. He held it so that both he and Wilson could see
"I met Natalia once, years ago. My dad tracked her down as part of his research. Apparently she was involved with the cultists somehow. The woman was insane. She told me that they 'made' the kid, just so they could..." again Dante interrupted him.
"I get the picture. So why isn't Natalia telling me this herself"
"She's already passed on. I know you don't believe me, but that wasn't her before, look" Wilson passed his hand through the photo Dante was still holding
"So who was I talking to before?"
"I don't know who that was, but she was not Natalia Romanov".
Dante took another look at the picture. Wilson was starting to annoy him.
"Right now it's your word against hers, the way I see it, there's only one person I'm gonna get a straight answer from"
Behind them, on the wall, hung the sword Alastor, one of Dante's favorites. He took it from its place on the wall and gave it a few swings. Wilson gave it an uncertain look
"What are you so worried about?" Dante asked, swinging Alastor through Wilson's chest.
"Do you mind? What are you doing" Wilson protested
"The cultists are gonna kill that girl to bring back a devil that should stay dead. They can't do that if I find her first" said Dante, checking over his other favorites, a pair of customized .45's he gave the names 'Ebony and Ivory', his back to Wilson
"And how are you going to do that?"
"I have my ways" Dante spun sharply, aiming his guns at Wilson who jumped back before remembering that the bullets would just pass straight through him
"You ass, what are you trying to do? Look, Natalia Romanov is dead and I can prove it!" Wilson yelled "I can tell you where she's buried".
