Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of the Devil May Cry characters in this fiction, if I did, Kyrie would have died in the first ten minutes of the game, very brutally and with lots of blood, Dante and Nero would be together...and Vergil would be shirtless in the third game...and Arkham would wear a frilly princess dress for my entertainment.
Rated Mature for Blood, Language, Future Hot Man Sex, Hurting Nero (Yes, I know, it's an addiction that I should probably kick), and more that I am still thinking of.
Just when I thought my muses up and left, they give me this at...five in the morning. I may be a little rusty since it's been a few months but so far, I'm quite taken by this fic. Enjoy while I get some sleep, or at least some strong coffee.
Chapter One: Vital Mistake
Nero knew he had made a mistake the second he parked Dante's motorcycle outside the crumbling castle. He ignored the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach though, deciding to pull his hoodie over his head to fight the bitter cold of the late fall and ignore the paranoia.
Low thunder echoed in the distant night sky as he quickly moved up the stone steps and towards the entryway, hoping silently that the incoming storm would not hit until he was done with the mission. The older hunter would kill him if he left his precious bike to be soaked in the rain. Nero sighed softly, watching his breath rise like smoke from his mouth. Maybe it would snow instead. Dante would not kill him over snow, but the slick roads just might.
The young silver haired man pulled down the sleeves of his coat before grabbing onto the bronze handle of the castle door with his devil bringer. He pulled on it lightly at first, the door merely groaning lowly at him. Trying again, the door still did not budge. Nero sighed. So much for sneaking up on the damn demon. He thought before backing up a few feet and slamming his foot against the middle of the door. The wood splintered in a few places along the middle as the lock was knocked out of place, letting the door swing open freely.
Nero lifted his devil arm, using the light to see and coming to a conclusion that the castle looked as good on the inside as it did the outside. The furniture was overturned, covered in dust and old cobwebs. The dark purple Victorian patterned wallpaper was flaking off the walls and collecting on the faded carmine tile. Nero scanned the empty entryway, finding nothing that even resembled a living being.
"Not even a spider around. What's the deal with this place?" He asked the dust particles he kicked up into the air as he walked across the tile. The young devil hunter wondered how the client even knew about a demon in the castle. As far as he could tell, this place had been abandoned for a couple decades and left to rot by itself. It was a little unbelievable that the client had heard shrieks of an otherworldly origin coming from the highest tower in the castle.
"Well..." Nero muttered, trying to wave the dust away from his nose and mouth. "It was in Dante's mission folder, so it has to be something important." The silver haired man entertained himself with the thought of finding nothing and returning to Dante, just to rub in the fact that he took on a supposed 'important' mission for nothing.
Nero was knocked out of his thoughts when he had begun his trek up the large marble staircase, branching from a small balcony in the middle of the kingly room. A shriek that made him cringe suddenly filled his ears, forcing him to cover them before it did any damage to his hearing. A part of the railing on the stairs crumbled and fell with a loud crash to the tiling on the floor below, seeming silent as the wailing over shadowed it.
"The hell?" Nero yelled once the shrieking stopped, keeping his ears covered in case the screams would start again. A few minutes past in silence, allowing the young devil hunter to put down his hands and move up to the balcony. He peered around the corner of the open arch at the top to see nothing but another staircase and two ancient doors that he could have easily just breathed on and they would crumble to dust. Nero sighed softly before shaking his head in attempt to rid himself of the ringing in his ears.
A few dozen staircases up the castle's many levels and Nero was growing tired of the stairs and was starting to gain a slight ache in his legs. He was thinking over possibly leaving the place and driving back to Devil May Cry before it rained or snowed. He always had the option, merely having to make up an excuse for being gone for three days and he would be done with it. But no, he needed to do this. Just so he could rub it all in Dante's face and finally show that he was good for more dangerous missions than the older man would allow him to go on. It was always, 'I got this one, kid.' or 'Are you sure you can handle this one, kid?'. The worst one Nero had heard so far was the dreaded 'I think I better come along, kid. Just in case I need to save your ass'.
Nero snorted at the memories of the other hunter teasing him about his limited experience. He could attempt to explain all his missions with the order, but Dante would just sit there with that damn smirk of his plastered on his face. Sometimes, Nero wondered if there really was any human in the man. He never thought about it seriously, though. He knew that it would hurt the older man if he even mentioned it, and, despite the teasing, Nero wanted to stay at Devil May Cry. There was a certain abnormal feel of belonging that he could not find anywhere else but the weapon covered office. A disturbing comfort in the smell of alcohol, old pizza, and rotting demon heads mounted on the walls. It was the only place Nero would dub 'home'.
His thoughts were interrupted again, but not by the shrill shrieks of a demon or any other creature. The stairs were finally gone, the small confines of the twirling flights disappearing into a vast veranda atop the tall tower. The stone beneath his feet was covered in a damp blue substance that reminded him of moss, pulsing as if it had a heart beat. Nero glanced up at the clouds, now roaring above him with demonic intent swirling inside their masses. The ground in the center of the veranda was raised higher than the young devil hunter expected was normal, a faint glow as well as soft whispers in a demonic language he could not decipher echoed from it. Nero felt his blood grow cold at the dark whispers. A fleeting thought of leaving and letting Dante handle this running across his mind before he drew the Red Queen from his back.
The mound remained quiet and unmoving, as if it had not noticed the threat mere meters from it. It pulsed softly, sleeping or something similar as Nero cautiously walked closer. The young demon slayer raised a silver eyebrow as he approached it, now only two feet from it.
Is this really the demon? It certainly isn't from here but it's not doing anything. Maybe I made a mistake. The old man might have. Knowing him, he might have written down the wrong location in this place. Nero thought, replacing his customized sword on his back. He waited a moment more before relaxing a little bit. Well, this is stupid. Where's the damn demon? The young man sighed loudly, turning his back to the pulsing mount and glancing at the veranda. Nothing else was there.
"Okay then...What now?" He muttered through clenched teeth before looking back at the pulsing mound. "Maybe if I mess with this thing a little, it's owner will show up." Nero circled the mossy object before tapping it slightly with his boot, in case it would rear up and attempt to devour him. It remained motionless besides the soft pulsing inside it. "Weird." He said, sitting down on it just to tempt fate. Nothing happened again. "Oh, come on!" Giving up, he leaned back and placed his devil bringer on the top of the mound.
Instantly, the pulsing sped up and the palm of his demonic hand started to burn. Nero's eyes widened and he tried to pull his arm away only to find that it was slowly being sucked into the moss.
"Damn it! Let go!" Nero shouted, moving to grab his devil bringer with his human hand only for it to be slowly pulled into the mound as well. "Stop!" He shut his eyes tightly as the loud shrieking returned, louder than before as the source was right underneath him. He could not cover his ears to dampen the sound, just barely able to sense the moss spiking up his arms and legs through the ringing in his head. He swore, knowing he was probably screaming but he not able to hear anything but the unrelenting ringing.
Nero felt the moss swallow him, enveloping him tightly as if to suffocate him. His chest and throat felt like they were being crushed into powder as his limbs burned. He could not open his dark blue eyes without it feeling like acid was burning his face. A sharpness that felt like tiny teeth nibbled at ever inch of skin, making him feel naked. He dared not breathe, not wanting to know what pain it would bring him when the rest of his body felt as if it were decaying rapidly. His lungs pleaded him for oxygen and he knew that he would suffocate if he did not take a breathe. It was either die by suffocation or by the demon. Nero took the chance and gasped for air, only to meet a heavy blanket of darkness.
Nero felt numb but soon felt his senses returning to him. Wet. Something was wet under him. There was water on slick stone under him. He was lying down outside. The wind was beyond cold and water was falling on his face. It was raining. He was wearing his clothes and the weight on his hip and the sharpness behind him told him he was still armed. He opened his eyes slowly, everything bury for several seconds. Grey clouds and heavy rain drops greeted him as his blue eyes finally focused. He sat up and glanced around once he could feel his arms again.
The devil hunter was outside of the castle, lying by Dante's motorcycle, which was considerably drenched by the rain. Nero put his human hand on his face to make sure his skin was still there, or maybe to see if he was still himself. His hearing returned last, the deadly ringing in his ears finally gone just to be replaced by the deafening roar of the rain hitting the stone road.
Nero shook his head after what could have been an hour or so of just sitting there, wondering what the hell had happened. He stood up, his legs feeling like they were not part of him as he stumbled over to the bike. Home. He needed to get back. Dante was going to kill him over his motorcycle. He felt distant from everything. Damn it, Nero! Get a hold of yourself. He thought, shaking his head again before sitting on the red bike and resting his head on his arms for a few minutes before turning on the engine and slowly making his way back to Devil May Cry.