Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, but if i did i would still write fanfiction.

Sympathy for the Devil

Ch.1 A Flipping Bad Day

He smelled it. The stench of rotting meat. It was completely nauseating. Especially for his enhanced sense of smell. But, ah, well…it couldn't be helped. Neither could the fact that, that smell was really doing a number on him. He was ready to just hurl now. Sparda was sure he never felt this sick in his entire life. And that was saying something since devils weren't ever supposed to feel sick. As he looked around the abounded house, he caught the smell of a rotting corpse.

"Sparda. Spaardaaa." Someone called, in a sing song voice.

He rounded a corner, seeing a decaying corpse snap its head up.

"Didn't think you were actually stupid enough to come. Did these past two millenniums wither your brain?" The corpse said, in a throaty chuckle.

"Oh, so I'm the dumbass when you're the one whose entrails are all over the floor? What happened? Mundus finally get fed up, and decided to send a zombie after me?" Sparda laughed.

There had to be more than that. Mundus wasn't so stupid as to think that something dead could stop him. No, he wasn't that stupid.

The corpse laughed. "You're right. He did get fed up. You shouldn't underestimate your opponent's by what condition there in Sparda. It will be your downfall." It hissed.

"I'm sure it will. Now, when I send you back down there I want you to give Mundus a message from me. Tell him to pull his head out of his ass, and that if he wants me dead come get me himself. Can you remember all that?" Sparda said, tauntingly.

The corpse snarled at him. "You talk big. Let's see if you can hang with the big boys, now."

The corpse raised its hands in a summoning motion, and called forth a phantom and marionettes.

Sparda rolled his eyes. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me? Are you serious? I'm insulted!" Sparda said, as he unsheathed Yamato.

He smirked and beckoned the marionettes forward. They jumped in the air intending for an air assault, but Sparda only rolled his eyes. In one quick movement, Yamato beheaded the three in mid air. Sparda grinned as he turned his attention to the waiting phantom while the other marionettes encroached upon Sparda.

"Time to die, traitor." The phantom spoke in an unearthly voice.

It stuck its head in the earth and called forth the condemned souls of hell. Sparda jumped in the air to avoid the fire, and landed on a marionette, decapitating it. He jumped from marionette to marionette decapitating each one as he went along, only to land on the back of the phantom. As he did so, it pulled its head out the ground, reeling. Sparda stabbed it, and cut its tail off. He jumped off of the creature just as it reeled backward. Sparda took the chance to slash at its underbelly, and it screamed in agony. The phantom fell to the ground, spent and dead.

Sparda yawned, stretching. He sheathed Yamato, and turned around only to come teeth to face with the corpse from before. It bit into his shoulder, and Sparda yelped in surprise.

He grabbed it by its spinal cord and snapped it in half. It didn't move after that.

"Sneaky bastard. That actually stings." Sparda grumbled, checking his wound.

It had already started to heal, but he noticed that it bit through his jacket.

"Sonuvabitch!!" Sparda bit out. "I just bought this jacket!"

He stripped it off as it began to sizzle. It seemed like some kind of acid was biting through it. Sparda growled and walked away from the leather mess.

At least my car's okay, Sparda thought. As he turned the corner on Lexington Avenue, however, he could clearly see his car in the lot alone. In the pristine condition he left it.

"Yo, that's gonna be at least twenty bucks, man." A kid said. He was at least sixteen years old, African American.

"Twenty bucks for what?!" Sparda said, glaring at the boy.

"For what? For watching yo vehicle! Them boys was gettin' ready to pop off on yo shit. You lucky I stopped em'." The boy said.

Colorful, Sparda said grinning.

"Oh, yeah. And I have you to thank for that, huh?" Sparda said.

"Yeah, yeah. It's all good though. I told em' you was a mad killer type, so you ain't gotta worry 'bout em' no mo'." He said.

Sparda laughed. You've no idea kid, he thought.

"Tell you what. You be my little snitch on anything I need, and I'll pay you for it. That sound good?" Sparda said, crossing his arms.

The boy made a face. "Ah, hell nah! I ain't nobody snitch! Being a snitch on these streets is like signing yo own death warrant. I give you information ever' now and then, for a small fee but I ain't nobody snitch." The boy declared.

Sparda nodded his head in understanding.

"Alright fine. Where can I find you if I need you?" Sparda asked.

"I be at that joint by the overpass. Bobby's cellar, right?" He said, trying to remember the name correctly.

"No shit! So you're a middle man, huh?" Sparda said, genuinely surprised.

The boy shrugged. "Of sorts. I'm like a jack of all trades, you know. I do this and that. I heard 'bout you from the old boy. He said you was reliable and trustworthy." He said.

Sparda shook his head. "What's your name?" Sparda asked.

"Trayvon. But you could call me Tray. Ever' body else do. Sparda, right?" Tray said.

Sparda nodded. "Try not to call me that in public though." He said.

"Then what you want me to call you?" Tray asked.

"My human name is Julian Luna. Call me that." Sparda replied.

"A'ight, that's cool. So 'bout them twenty dollars?" Tray said.Sparda rolled his eyes, and pulled out his wallet.

I can't believe I'm getting hustled by a kid, he thought.

He shook his head as he gave the kid twenty bucks.

"Now get out of here. I bet your mother's worried." Sparda said.

"Yeah, okay." Tray mumbled as he walked away.

Sparda watched him walk out of site before he walked to his car. Before he could get twelve feet near it, his car exploded. The shockwave sent him flying back a couple of feet. As he stood and brushed himself off, Sparda looked over at his flaming car. Tray came running from around the corner at hearing the explosion.

"Oh, shit! Goddamn! When the hell they did that?!" Tray said, shocked.

Sparda stared, his mouth open. He was going to kill whoever did this. He just got it washed!

Author's Note:

Second Devil May Cry Story that has been posted and hasn't been discontiuned. I was so close to discontinuing it, too.

So, plz don't let my hardwork be in vain.

Read my story.

Tell me what you think of it.

The second chapter is already in progress.