Prologue - Sparda's wife
She underestimated how cold it would be tonight. That wasn't like her at all. She couldn't run with this load to warm.
She's marching, but the night air is wicking her heat away faster than her body can replace it.
The woman could turn back of course, but then what? It's her job to finish. Its her fault she came with this issue during work. The blocks passed by in a blur, no one was out tonight.
Besides, if she slacked off, who knows what might happen.
The street lamp's reflections in the otherwise-black river stretched out like flaming stilts, ruffled by the cool breeze.
Her memories drifted back, slightly to the information she got about this..
. . .
The monster travelled as a cloud of barely-there yellow gas and entered its prey though the cerebrum. The victims knew nothing of the attack, except that they could smell something quite metallic.
Afterward, they couldn't resist, they couldn't run away. . . According to the only survivor. In the dim light that oozes through a narrow gap lies the alleyway, where everything happened.
It became the underworld of this small town: gloomy and unpleasant.
The vines that crawl up window sills and the crumbling plaster that envelopes the old stone bricks seemed equivalent to the veins of a Daemon.
Darkness lurked in every corner within the labyrinth of narrow passages and dead ends. Litter dumped on the street, the birds nested amongst the sprawling rot.
Suddenly, a muffled scream reverberated from behind her. The street lights flickered off and she was left with nothing but the orchestra of the urban city playing its eerie night music. . .
The woman drew twin pistols, named Luce and Ombra, the flash light strapped to her belt clicked on and she prepared for what came.
"Show yourself." She whispered.
From the darkness, a husky voice came.
"Hello beautiful. . . It must be my lucky night a goddess such as yourself sought me out." A sound of thundering steps disturbed the silence as the creature moved out of the shade.
It's accent was strongly Bulgarian, fitting as it was a creature of unnatural wonder. It had the visage of a hulking man stitched to the body parts of a goat at the same time.
Rudimentary horns poked out of it's dark hair, scaling up and ridging backwards in a curl. It's thick, woolen legs made harsh steps, looking like oversized lamb-legs.
It was it's face that was most memorable, shark teeth and pure white eyes. The most disturbing grin painted it's rotten face, alongside a crooked, faustian nose that stretched out two inches.
"And a blonde one as well?" It rumbled, putting it's hands together in mock prayer, "Thank you lord."
"Now's no time to repent."
The beast growled and lunged her way. The woman flipped to the side, a massive arm crashing into the ground as it's horns nearly touched her cheek.
She brought up both guns and fired off a double-shot, striking the creature in it's back. It made a sound and fell to it's knees for a moment, clutching it's lower back in pain.
The woman smirked at the pathetic sight.
"Name's Eva, you can know me as Ms. Sparda. Think again before you start abducting people for food."
"S-Sparda!?" The sense of panic was easily evident in it's ragged voice, but that was completely swept away within seconds.
A wicked smile resumed it's horrid face, and another horrible sight beheld her.
"Imagine what all the hellions will think when they know I've raped Sparda's whore. . . The celebration that would unfold."
The screaming had stopped so suddenly. One minute, it was right in her face, saliva dripping out from the rows of it's teeth, and the next he was meat on the floor.
All it took was a quick flick of the wrist, and then a flinch of the fingers. Bang bang, liquified brain across the ground. It's body disintegrated before it could collapse on her.
It was a surprise how little effort it had taken to get ride of him. A little squeeze and poof, gone in a flash.
Less trouble than preparing food for her sons and making it back quietly. It'd take a certain finesse, but in the dark it'll be easy to get away.
A silent justice, but justice nonetheless. Beasts like that need to be sent back to hell.
Eva sighed and stole herself back to the main road. Her mind went cuckoo over how the house would look.
No time to socialize with the locals, not that they even knew what had happened. That was fine for her, she didn't care. So long as demons like that are gone, she was happy.
The entire ordeal left her feeling a little numb, also hungry. She thought to herself what to make when she got back home, perhaps pasta? Too carb-y. Maybe take out was in order?
She'll decide somehow.
. . .
She walked down the muddy track towards home and her heart both sank and rose all at once. A flame grew inside her chest, the thought of children roaming the streets, now victims of war.
That was something she wouldn't stand for, not for the hypocrisy of her own species, nor for the hate of other blackened candidates. Blood is spilling on her watch.
Happier times were sadly a distant memory, where she first arrived to this home.
A newly-married madam, she couldn't wait to settle down and start a life there.
She hadn't forgotten his face, that goofy man she loved so much. Of all the things, it's the path that changed under years of footfalls and weathering.
She grew further to imagine what would meet her at the end of this, a place of more love and warmth than she'd had these countless days passed.
Eva marched to her front door, her fingers reaching out for that familiar doorknob. So it turned, and the Wiccan entered quietly, like usual.
In her home was the scent of lavender, the delicate blooms in one or two old jam jars. The perfume brings out the delicate purple hue to the walls, psychologically.
That very same shade painted spring forget-me-nots in the morning, a rather zealous way to spend the time. Still, it seemed better than the constant mire of a big city.
There was nature here, growing all around. It gave her sense of closeness with the old forces of life, the ones that existed long before Christian preconceptions.
She never aspired to a large home, preferring cozy and small, the type of inviting abode you'd see in a rural landscape.
Its the perfect space for her needs, at least. . . Something the couple agreed upon.
This is their 'cottage' under the sky, or rather was. Furnished with everything rustic, the old was a simple stage for her new creations, new paintings daubed on perfect squares of canvass.
A space was just space until you bring your own personality to it, make your mark, expressing what's sacred to you. That is, until the sight of broken dishes graced her sight.
There were burn marks on the wall nearby and a chair was splintered into a tiny fragments upside down.
Eva rolled her eyes. . . Damn, again?
"Boyo's!" She dropped her voice down, like a drill sergeant, "Come out here, right now."
Her voice was deep and angry, demanding attention even if you didn't want to give it any. After a moment of silence, a door opened and two boys around the age of 15 walked out.
One was wearing an all-black outfit, consisting of a dark biker vest over a grey sweater and black slacks with biker boots.
His white hair was swept back and he spoke first.
"I was having the best sleep ever, I swear!" He yawned.
The other one was wearing a black Misfits t-shirt and a pair of brown cargos. Unlike his brother, his hair was covering his face.
"Heya madre, good to have ya back. . ." In general, this brother didn't seem to care about anything.
Eva crossed her arms and took a moment to breathe.
"How many times have I said 'no games inside the house?'" She said and pointed at the damage.
The boy in black spoke first.
"He started it. Provoked me into a match before bed."
"Too much pride to admit I beat you in chess, huh?"
The elder boy laughed nervously, "Shut up man, she's really mad this time."
In their heads, both were begging the other not to tell mom the real reason was a scrap over one of Dante's 'lady-friends.'
He'd brought her over for some socialization and Vergil butted in, wanting to show himself the superior sibling. To give the young woman credit, she was rather beautiful.
She'd gone before Eva could get home, and the two cleaned up the important evidence before she came through the door.
"Haah, I tell people I have crazy children and no one ever believes me. That's more money lost for food and more towards repairing the wall. . . For the third time this month."
Dante bowed his head.
"Sorry." It was genuine, despite being monosyllabic.
Vergil followed, "I'm sorry too, I will be more careful next time."
A sudden smirk accompanied the glare on her face. "You know it, I have a plan."
Vergil and Dante exchanged looks worried.
"Oh dear lord, anytime she says that. . ." Vergil whispered.
"Yeah. . . I know." Dante followed.
Eva's eyes first gazed upon her eldest son, "Vergil. . . Sweetheart, you're going to get out and find a job that pays well, there're rumors going around about an abandoned street."
He raised an eyebrow out of curiosity, but cringed in his stomach at the prospect of working it.
"A number of people keep going missing there. Reward's a thousand bucks." Her statement made him
"Geh, stupid missing persons!" He tried to argue, but the look silenced him, "Fine, I'm on it, but not tonight. Any chance I can bring you or Dante, please?"
"Why ca-. . ." She paused, realizing what he meant, "Did you have the dream again?"
Vergil struck out with a particularly grim look in his eyes.
"It seems the same, but I don't know."
. . .
From darkness rang a howl that penetrated even the drone of traffic. Not far away, a trash can fell. I stopped, feeling so cold.
It sounded like a dog, but I couldn't be sure, and for some reason, I remembered you telling me to come straight home after something I usually do. . . Not sure what that is.
The cry came again, this time more shrill and, without another thought, I headed into that gloomy alleyway. I don't remember why, I just felt I had to. My shoes splashed into newly made puddles.
Then I felt a sharp pain in my neck.
The voice called out again. . . I could make out what it was saying this time.
'The time is near. . . Cold as steel
Ice shall fall from the heavens. . . People will die, staring blankly into the sky
Unaffected and undistracted. . . The earth shall move to swallow. . .
Light shall become dark. . . Your reflection will remind you
In their image are you born, creatures of destruction bringing forth their storied scorn. . .
Cold as steel, underneath broken skin you shall wait, and you will meet the one who will show you how to die. . .
. . .
Any sense of happiness faded away the moment she remembered it, that dream. What does it mean? There's no one following Vergil. If so, why? More importantly, who?
"Vergil, it's just a dream, man" Dante commented.
"A dream I've had four times in a row? Maybe it hasn't happened." He replied, shaking his brother's shoulder.
"I'm worried that something may come after us." In a time like this, Eva wished Sparda was still around.
Maybe he could figure this out and try to avoid whatever disaster might be coming their way.
"Anyway, I'll try my best to look for meaning, I promise. Now off to bed both of you." She put her hands on her hips as she signaled them to leave.
"I'll help him out, so he won't get scared. I got a guy who can help." Dante said.
"Is that another prank?" Vergil asked him as they started heading back to their room.
"Nah," Dante answered, his voice smooth, "You can come with me tomorrow if ya want. See for yourself."
..Thank you for reading, criticism, and advice are welcome. It will help me grow.
I wanted to do something different, a change of history and what could have happened if Eva is still alive with them in their teenage years, how the events of dmc 3 will take place and the rest.
Thank you Angel wolf for your help.