Greetings human. This is my first FanFiction and i have been been writing it for a year now. I'm shocked at how much and at the same time how little I've written. It's still a work in progress so hang with me for the many grammatical errors. I'm warning you now, so... sorry. I have stared a rewrite of this incomplete story, (ridiculous I know) but the new various will fill in a lot of back story and gaps that this version has missed. The Demons Inside: *www*.*fanfiction*.*net*/s/9379101/1/The-Demons-In side (Delete the *s).
But anyways, I hope you enjoy my continuation of the Devil May Cry series with...
Dancing with Guns & Swords.
Enjoy.
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: one :
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A slight drizzle stared to fall on the city early on in the day before the sun had began to peak over the building tops. Even now, the sun had long retreated below the horizon, a slight drizzles left the streets cold and damp. A few people were ducking into a small awning, shaking there umbrellas to dispel the water clinging to them. Above them a green neon sign flickered, the elegant 'Melody, Jazz Club' reflecting in the puddles covering the street. Down the flight of stairs and through the entrance, the warmth of inside was always welcoming. The lights were dimmed and the smell of coffee and pine was as thick as the almost sweet smoke of cigars. The low murmur of voices was underplayed by the sound of music and singing.
Opposite of the doors, the small and well lit stage held most of the attention in the room. While the song was good enough, that wasn't the only reason for the devoted attention. The young woman holding the guitar was just as lovely as the song. Each cord she her delicate fingers expertly strummed, seamlessly flowing into a song. Her face, framed by her amber-brown hair as it hung around her shoulders, almost touched the guitar as she cradled it in her arms. With her thin pants and light sweater that hung around shoulders, her sender figure and curves were only accentuated. She had an alluring beauty about her, not it was only one someone grew to notice, as if the longer you looked at her the more beautiful she appeared. Her soft features and willowy figure making her making her seem as if she meant to be protected and pampered.
Her eyes opened, the usual intensity of those gray orbs lost in the song. She was far away as she turned from her fingers, leaning towards the mike.
"Ohh, the silence... Oh the silence I stand in..." she sang the last lines of the chorus, letting the music fade into just that; silence. As the room stilled, she leaned back from the mike and stood, guitar in hand. A bright and slightly embarrassed smile graced her lips when a soft applause filled the room. Ducking her head, she stepped to the side of the stage, stooping to put her guitar in its case as another performer stepped up to the mike. She didn't bother to glance over her shoulder but focused on gently closing the lid of the case over her beloved instrument. It had been a gift from her father when she was at school. That had been... five years ago? She counted back, trying to remember when she had started college as she stepped off the stage.
She was interrupted from her reminiscing as a few people approached her. It was not an unusual occurrence and She just smiled politely as they asked their various questions. 'How long have you been playing?', 'Do you come up with your own music?', 'Do you come here regularly?'. A common occurrence with the usual questions, the ones she always got, but all the same, she answered each politely and finally made her way over to the bar.
"Hey Jenkins." She said out of habit rather than necessity. She carefully leaned her guitar case against the bar which she then rested her elbows on. Lacing her fingers together she craned her head back slightly to smile up at the bar tender. Jenkins was a large man, not because he was heavy set or anything, but you could reasonably wonder if he had to turn to fit through a doorway. With arms that said he worked, out religiously, head shaven to a shine and a nice size mustache under his nose, Jenkins was an over all intimidating looking person. Or at least he could be if he didn't insist on wearing the white apron with the frilly edging. When Jazmin brought up the article's conflicting message, he always claimed it was a gift from his wife. Anyone who talked to that hulking man for more than ordering a drink, could tell he was all warm and gooey on the inside.
Jenkins turned, rubbing a glass with a towel, and gave the women a big lope-sided smile.
"Well hey there little missy," he said leaning on the bar, still rubbing at the glass, "And what brings a pretty little lady like yourself to a place like this." She laughed but reached up suddenly and snagged Jenkins ear between two fingers. She grinned and squeezed.
"What have I said about calling me 'little missy'? I am not twelve..." She questioned in a mocking tone before releasing Jenkins' ear as he started whining 'ow ow ow'.
"Eh, sorry Jazmin," He muttered with a little pout mostly hidden by his mustache as rubbed his ear a bit. The sad look in his puppy-dog brown eyes faded almost instantly though and he turned around, grabbing a coffee cup from counter behind him. "Well, here's your usual, for your wonderful performance." Jazmin giggled, the irritation dispersing almost immediately as she took the drink. Jenkins did know exactly how to appease her 'temper'. She stood on the stool foot rest so she could leaning over the bar giving Jenkins a little peck on his forehead.
"Thanks." She said with a bright smile and returned to her seat. Jenkins' smiled back, not at all embarrassed by the little blush coloring his cheeks as he returned to his work. Jazmin felt a chill when the front door was opened, people entered the club, and Jazmin ignored them.
"So..." Jazmin started, holding the mug close to her lips and letting the heat from the drink warm her through her hands. "How's your wife?" She glanced over the lip in an attempt to hide her knowing smirk form the bar tender. Jenkins moaned throwing his arms up before returning to rubbing the glass in his hand, starting his long list of complaints about his wife. He loved her (the apron was proof of that), but Jazmin knew he liked an excuse to whine. It was what couples did; love each other and complain. She hoped she would get to that stage with her significant other
At the point in Jenkins' tale where he was describing the way his wife had him organize the dish towels from the hand towels before washing them, the bell hanging over the door jiggling. The sound was almost unnoticeable in the club but the chilly breeze that snuck into the club caught Jazmin's attention once again. She noticed the person entering the club out of the corner of her eye but ignored them, sipping her hot drink and nodding to Jenkins. She had been very content to devote her attention to the bar tenders story but of course the person had to sit down right next to her. Well, to tell the truth he didn't sit, he dropped into the seat with such a dramatic flare she couldn't help and she but look.
The man that had just sat next to her could rival most... no, defiantly won the 'intimidating contest' against anyone. He must have been at the very least six-three, but Jazmin had never been good at judging height. While not quiet as board-shouldered as Jenkins, the man looked like he could handle just about anything, the air of power that he emanated only adding to that conclusion. Though, as dangerous as he looked, Jazmin wasn't uneasy in the least. The way he moved was too light to be scary. His movements (though all she saw was him do was sling the black guitar case from his shoulder and drop it to the ground next to her's) were elegant, and flamboyant but still controlled. She wanted to compare him to a dancer, but that wasn't right at all. The long, trench coat he was wearing swept around his body, the red adding to the flare to his movements. The tight, black shirt he wore was distracting enough without the way it just hugged the sculpted muscles just underneath. But, as distracting and attention demanding the rest of his, the was most 'eye catching' thing about him was his hair. Long and white, it was almost silver. And the way it hung in his face obscuring half his features in darkness made his eyes glow in the light.
Jazmin couldn't help but stare at this beautiful and powerful man that had just sat next to her.
She must have been staring longer than she had thought because he turned his head slightly and glanced at her from under those bangs. Jazmin blinked in surprise as she spun away quickly, smiling in embarrassment for being caught eying. He didn't return the smile but his icy-blue eyes looked at her from head to foot then back again, only then did a little smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. For a moment it appeared as if he was going to say something but his attention was turned to Jenkins who had stepped forwards to ask the man what he wanted. Jazmin kept her eyes intently focused on the mug in her hands; now she was even more embarrassed and she could feel her cheeks burning.
"One Strawberry-Sunday."
It was not secret who had said it and Jazmin dared to sneak a peak at the man through her bangs. He had said it in a completely serious tone. Jenkins raised an eyebrow at the odd order, giving the man a hard look before he held is hands up and shrugged.
"I'll see what I got..." Jenkins said slowly, looking the man over once more then walking away to help another customer before going into the back. She didn't say thing and tried to drink her coffee as normally as she could. Oh god why did she feel so awkward all of a sudden? Was it because she had been staring? He probably got stares all the time. Jazmin scowled at her drink. It must have been that little smirk he had given her. She was no good with dealing with attractive guys. Well... really, she was no good when dealing with guy that she thought were hot. And this guy was practically high on the list. How long had it take her before she had worked up the nerve to talk to her boyfriend? A month? It was probably closer to four. Ha ha...
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed slow movement. Without really registering what it was Jazmin turned suddenly and reaching for her guitar case as it slipped towards the floor. She wasn't quite fast enough to catch it, but someone else was. In the next moment their was a hand around the case, as well at the the black one that had caused the loss of balance. Jazmin looked up slowly to see the white haired man leaning out of his seat. As she looked to his face his eyes flashed up from the cases and he gave her a grin. It made her heart skip a beat. Hie eyes, seemed to hold her in place and she couldn't move. But then he was setting the cases back upright and returned to his seat, and Jazmin was released from whatever had held her frozen. Clearing her throat she reoccupied her seat.
"Thanks you." She muttered quietly and the man chuckled.
"Your welcome."
Oh god, even his voice was hot. What was she going to do with herself? Practically stumbling over her own feet (well she would have been if she were walking) because a guy had smiled at her. Her boyfriend was just as good looking as this guy. Well, he may have not been quiet as attention demanding, he was still good looking. But then again, Nathen's eyes weren't so piercing they made her feel like he could see her every move.
She sighed softly, staring at her drink for a while longer. Ah…whatever. She probably look like a bit of an idiot to this guy next to her, but who cared what he thought? And she probably wasn't ever gonna see him every again anyways so she might as well work up the nerve and talk to him. Jazmin turned towards him abruptly and started to speak only to bite her lip mid thought and then try again.
"Do you...um, are you going to play?" she asked more frustrated than embarrassed at her obvious difficulty. The man turned his head a little and looked at her threw his bangs once again. Jazmin couldn't help but wonder if they were a bit bothersome because at the moment she thought they were. She couldn't see his face properly with the way he was kinda hunched over, coat collar and hand hiding his face. He then frowned at her as if confused by her question.
"What'cha talkin' about?" he asked.
She faltered. Of course he'd come back with a question of his own.
"Oh.. ah, your guitar." She said pointing hastily at the black case next to hers. "Are you going to perform?" she restated and threw a thumb over her shoulder at the stage all the while mentally kicking herself for not making that obvious the first time.
The man tipped back in his chair so he could see around Jazmin before he returned to leaning on the bar.
"Sorry, I don't do public performances." He said, another smirk working its way onto his face.
"Here you go."
The musician nearly jumped out of her seat as Jenkins set a glass cup full of pink dessert topped with whipped cream and strawberries before the man. He immediately snagged the spoon and put it in his mouth in one fluid movement. The process seemed surprisingly graceful for just eating ice cream. Jazmin sighed at her reaction. High-strung nerves? Really? Was she guilty? But what was there to be guilty about? She was just talking to a guy who had happened to sit next to her in the club. It wasn't like she was doing something bad. Ah, relationships; she found them so confusing sometime. Jazmin brought her drink to her lip, glancing up at the clock. The mug was almost immediately slammed back to the bar, the dark contents splashing over her hand and the counter but she didn't even notice.
"Ah! It's that late already?" Jazmin was on her feet, grabbing her guitar case in an almost reckless manner as she rushed for the exit. "Hey, see ya Jenkins!" She called back over her shoulder. In her rush she almost run into someone coming in. She hurriedly jump out of the way, stammering apologies as she tore her jacket from the coat racket and rushing outside, the door jiggling loudly on her way out.
"Bye Kid." Jenkins called just as the door was closing and sighed. "That girl..." As he turned back to grab her empty mug and wipe up the mess she had left him, he noticed the man with the ice cream gazing after Jazmin.
Dante did watched the girl as she made her rushed and clumsy exit. She was a tiny thing as far as Dante was concerned and she was very relaxed with the idea of walking home... alone... at night... Even though it had been over a year since Sid had obtained the powers of Abigail and destroyed some… make that most of the town, that girl acted too… too at ease with the idea of walking around at night by herself. This city was still crawling with demons despite his 'best' efforts. Any demon would just love to take a bite out of that fine woman.
After a few moments Dante spoke up.
"Hey, bar tender," The large man with the mustache turned to him with a harsh look, though it was starting to seem to be a permanent expression when the man wasn't talking to a woman. "That girl, how long has she been livin' here?"
Jenkins, that's what the girl had called him after all, gave Dante a look; one that said 'I-will-kill-you-if-you-so-much-as-look-at-that-gi rl'. It was a father-figure kind of look. Dante guessed it was supposed to be intimidating, but he then again, never found humans very intimidating anymore.
"Around six months..." Jenkins said then pointed a finger in Dante's face, "but don't you think of messing with her or I'll skin ya alive." Jenkins warned. His suspicious about the look proven correct, Dante turned his attention from Jenkins and to the two men he had walked in after. They were talking quietly to themselves, and gesturing towards the door. Young, tall -still shorter than Dante- plainly dressed; they weren't really men who would usually attract attention. However, it wasn't their looks that had caught his attention; instead it was the way they were fidgeting in blatant agitation. Abruptly they left the Jazz Club almost as rushed as the girl had been. Dante sighed and grabbed his 'guitar case'.
"Well, I'd better get to work..." he muttered and walked out after them into the dreary night, leaving two dollars too little next to his empty ice cream bowl.
Jazmin shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, guitar slung over her shoulder, as she hurried away from the Jazz Club. She had completely forgotten about her cat. God, that little fuzz ball was not going to be happy with her when she got home. He was always mad when she didn't feed him at a particular time; she just hoped he hadn't tried to make a mess of anything.
Jazmin felt an unsettling chill ran up her spine, distracting her from worrying about the cat waiting for her at home. It wasn't the kind of chill you got from being cold, but rather the creaping kind of being watched. The ones that start at the bace of your neck, grew slowly and with a rush ran down your spine making your skin crawl under your clothes in the mostly unpleasent way. Jazmin shivered, rolling ehr shoulders in discomferted. She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck as she glanced over her shoulder and saw that the street was oddly…empty, and eerily silent. She frowned and hunched her shoulders against the cold as she tugged her jacket tigher and increased her pace. She suddenly received another chill that raced down her spine even before the crawling feeling of the last chill had faded. God. It really did felt like someone was watching her. Maybe if she ignored it it would go away. Yeah, if it went away that meant it was nothing; nothing to worry about.
The neon lights of the jazz club faded as Jazmin hurried one down the street. She wasn't that far from her home, only about a ten, twenty minute walk tops. Though sometimes she wished she did drive her car on nigths like this one. She let out a sigh, and shurgged, her stride growing longer with the thoughts of being home and with her cat. However these pleasant thoughts were far from what was going to happen int he next few minutes. There was a suddenly flash of movement to her left, causing Jazmin to jerk to the side, a knee-jerck reaction as she attempted to catch a glimpse of what had startled her. She never made it. The moment her head started to turn to the left, she was unexpectedly thrown to the side and slammed into the wall. She let out a cry of alarm as her head smashed into the bricks, pain flaring up through her body as the impact causing the guitar on her back crunch between her body and the wall. She then dropped back onto the street, first landing hard on her knees followed by her cheek smacking wet concert.
'What the…?' Jazmin felt something hot and sticky leaking over her scalp and threw her hair as it drip onto the ground, mixing with the water. It was dark but she could clearly see the growing puddle next to her face. Blood? That was blood wasn't it? Her blood. Her vision wavered as she tried to focus past the pain, clenching her teeth. There was…someone, -or was it two someone's?- around her, but she couldn't tell. She moaned loudly when she tried to move her entire body screaming at her in protest. She ignored the ach of her body moved her arms intending to push herself up off the ground. But as she moved, there was an enormous weight crushing down on her back, forcing the air from her lungs. The suddenly pressure and the feeling of her destroyed guitar biting into her back though the case and her clothes was excruciating. Jazmin ground her teeth but wasn't about to stop her scream in pain. The scream made her so light headed she almost passed out, her head dropping back to the wet street with a solid crack. Oh god... was she going to die? Ha, she wasn't even able to try and fight back.
"Hey!" The word seemed to ring in her ears long after it was yelled but it seemed to pull her suddenly back from the edge. The weight on her back suddenly disappeared, leaving Jazmin coughing and gasping for air as she tried to curl into a ball on the ground.
"Its not very nice to attack a young lady from behind you pricks...Why don't you take on someone like me? Or am too much man for you to handle?" Jazmin could barely concentrate on breathing let alone make since of the words or the strange and urgent noises around her. What the hell was going on? She forced her an eye open as she tried to control her coughing fit. She had to turn her head to see down the street from were she had just come. There was more talking but she suddenly starting coughing again and when she was able to focus again the black on the edges of her vision threatened to take over. But... she was able to see something. She could see a person, or at least something that was in the general, blurry shape of a person. She blinked, and had to force her eyes open. They wouldn't focus properly and the pain... the pain of her body was making it impossible to concentrate. She could see... a tall man, white hair, red coat.
Why... now why was that familiar? She squeezed her eyes shut again; her mind was so fuzzy, thoughts almost incoherent. She couldn't remember anything, she couldn't think properly. When she opened her eyes again she could the man was closer, then suddenly someone stepped over her, moving towards the man. The man in red moved fast, his hand going around his back and drawing something from behind him. The next instance, the street echoed with a gunshot… something that didn't quiet look human dropped to the ground…
Jazmin gradually lost the will to fight darkness that took over, her visions blacking out completely. The last thing she heard before nothingness enveloped her was…
BANG!
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If you've read this before and loved it, you love this.
If you've liked the idea but thought the writing sucked, you may like this better.
If you totally hated this, I don't know how you made it to the end but you probably won't hate this more... Please check out The Demons Inside. *www*.*fanfiction*.*net*/s/9379101/1/The-Demons-In side (Delete the *s)
Reviews are the aphrodisiac of authors. PLEASE REVIEW! I know there are more chapters, but when you give me your opinion on each it helps me out so much more when I come back to fix stuff. The readers' opinion means so much to me. So being harsh is okay but along as it is constructive.
DISCLAIMER: I, sadly, do not own any characters from the various Devil May Cry series, nor do i make any money from this reproduction.
{Version Five}
