Devil May Cry

Devil May Cry belongs to CAPCOM. I own the plot, nothing else. Hope you enjoy. I don't know when I'll update next. -Goopay

Drunk on Shadows

"Hiding underneath the veil of broken dreams, we find her weeping. On her once white wings she will be carrying the weight of our deeds, and she bleeds for love forever gone. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie, killing ourselves a kiss at a time. Devils dance while angels smile. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie. Finding souls to feed the nightside of Eden, we see the struggling for her love's last breath and walk off. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie, killing ourselves a kiss at a time. Devils dance while angels smile. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie." H.I.M. "Drunk on Shadows"

PROLOGUE

The sword swung in a graceful arc, the blade actually made a whistling sound as it cut through the air. It was just that sharp, double edged and deadly; the thing it cut through didn't stand a chance, such was the force of the killing blow. Pieces of decaying flesh fell to the ground and dissolved into mush; a man with white hair stepped over the disgusting pile as he sheathed the heavy blade. He continued on his way, ignoring the sound of sirens in the distance.

The man wasn't as old as his shock of white hair made him seem, he was actually just entering his late twenties. His white hair wasn't a dye-job and it wasn't some medical ailment, it was all natural even if the man it belonged to wasn't. All natural that is. Dante Sparda was a little less than natural and more unnatural, he was a demon. Okay, truth be told, he was half demon. His father had been a demon, but he'd also been one of the good guys; rallying against his own kind to save all of humanity. Of course, dear old dad was dead now; he'd sacrificed himself to save Dante's mother and brother. Not that it mattered, seeing as they were all dead now anyway, kidnapped and murdered by the demons his father had failed to kill. Demons that had worked for a dark lord; one of the many 'dark lords' out there.

So Dante had picked up his dad's old sword, Force Edge, and taken it upon himself to pay the bastard back. And he'd kill every demon in his path until he'd had his vengeance. It might take awhile, but Dante could wait. He would wait, as long he had to wait, he'd get his payback though.

The phone rang; that annoying beep-buzz that seemed to penetrate through his skull and tangle over his nerves. "Devil May Cry,"

"I have an assignment I need someone to take on." A man's voice said.

Dante frowned; the man hadn't given the word. "Sorry, we closed at nine." He said and hung up the phone. "Again, no password. I can't seem to get any real business."

There was a roar of an engine, a motorcycle engine to be exact. Then the front wall of his shop burst open, slinging wood, glass and various other things into the room. Dante put his booted feet on his desk as he leaned back in his comfortable chair like that sort of thing happened every day. A woman on a red Ninja motorcycle was parked in the middle of his shop; she was dressed in revealing black leather that left little to the imagination and red wire-framed sunglasses. She was lightly tanned, her long blonde hair falling down her back to fan out just above her nicely shaped ass.

"Whoa! Slow down babe," He said and the woman turned off the cycle, dismounting with ease and coming to stand at the edge of his desk. "Well, well, what do we have here? Nature calls? It's in the back,"

The woman was silent, walking around as if she owned the place. She looked at each of his 'trophies' of the demons he'd killed over the years with a studied gaze. "So," She said and her voice was sultry and soft, exotic. "You must be the handyman that will take any dirty job. Am I correct?"

Dante stood. "Almost," He said, walking to the nearest wall and taking his sword from its rack in front of a Hustler poster of a partially nude chick with stars over her nipples. "I only take special jobs... If you know what I mean."

Twisting the sword with a lazy type of skill, he stopped a few feet away from the woman. She put her hand on her hip. "You're the man that lost a mother and a brother to evil twenty years ago," She said. "The son of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda... Mr. Dante."

The sword quivered lightly in his hand, reacting to his shock and his anger. "Well the way I figure it, in this business a lot of your kind comes along, and if I kill each one that comes, eventually I should hit the jackpot sooner or later." He lifted his sword, lined the tip up with the woman's neck; she didn't flinch and that should have been the tip-off.

"In that case," She said. "You should be used to this sort of thing."

The woman grabbed the sword in her palm and yellow lightening erupted from her, dancing up the blade and striking Dante. He screamed because, though he'd had worse, it did still hurt. She let go, spinning around to kick him in the mouth but at least she wasn't electrocuting him any more. He hopped back but not quick enough to avoid the kick that sent him flying into his desk with a clatter of wood and metal. He attempted to get his feet underneath him, to put himself back on the offensive but at that moment, the sword he'd used to kill countless demons was embedded in his chest; thrown by the leather clad woman. He was pinned, very pinned matter-of-fact and the woman's next action was to send more of that yellow lightening into the hilt of his sword so that it acted like some ghetto lightening-rod. He screamed again and the woman laughed.

"Are you really the son of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda? Didn't your daddy teach how to use a sword?" The electricity suddenly stopped and Dante used the opportunity to go for his guns.

Enough of this bullshit. "A sword, please," Hammers pulled back and a round in each chamber, Dante's fingers hovered over each trigger, ready to squeeze down. "Time to go to work guys,"

The woman had thrown the Ninja at him, another tip-off if there ever was one and Dante, calling forth what powers he could, stilled the bike and let loose with his guns. The bike exploded, throwing the woman to the floor and Dante stood up; his own sword still jutting from his chest.

He towered over the woman. "Even as a child I had powers, there's demonic blood in me."

She took a crawling step back. "What strength," She whispered and Dante pulled the sword from his chest, the wound gushed blood but he paid it no mind, throwing the sword so that its tip stuck into the floorboards.

"You were the first one to know about my vengeance; looks like I'm getting close." He pointed the gun at her, deftly putting another round into the chamber.

She stood, staring him down behind her sunglasses. "It seems that way but I'm not your enemy." She turned away from him, as if preparing to flee. "My name is Trish; I came here to seek your help...To put an end to the Underworld."

Of all the cock and bull stories... "What?"

The woman turned back to him, taking off her sunglasses. He faltered, suddenly seeing the face of his mother; the gun lowered a few inches. "Twenty years ago, Mundus, the emperor of the Underworld, resurrected."

"Mundus?" Dante repeated incredulously, wondering whatever happened to Lucifer. Wasn't he supposed to be the king of hell or something?

"Yes, his powers were sealed by Sparda; he's attempting to gain control of the human world once again. He is preparing to open the gate on Mallet Island."

It was all he needed to hear. A badass demon, once defeated by his dad was up to old, useless tricks. But daddy dearest wasn't here to stop the bastard. Dante sighed; he wouldn't even get paid for this.