Okay, so I last night saw this trailer type thing for Devil May Cry 4 and that got me wanting to write again, so yay. And hey, this is all speculation anyway. The women don't get mentioned in this thing either, because hey, let's face it, I don't know whether they're going to be making a return. So I decided to write what my imagination told me too and here we are!
I know that the fandom is slowly but surely dying out, but I'm hoping that things will be getting better for us all when Devil May Cry 4 comes out. So one can say that I wrote this fic, mostly to celebrate that finally, all of us have some more information to play around with.
Thank you, Capcom. And thank you in advance to everyone else. You guys make me happy. Whether you read the fic and walk away, or whether you give me a review, I'm very grateful for all the support that you guys have given me in the past.
Read, review if you like.
But most of all, Enjoy
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From that day forth, my arm changed….and a voice echoed …power…Give me more power!
A parasite. That was what this was. Nothing more than a parasite, and with most things, there were ways to get rid of them. This situation couldn't be all that different, could it? But how does one combat against a parasite that was born of your own flesh and blood?
He looked towards his appendage, a lump rising in his throat as he stared hopelessly at what his left arm had become. A claw, ugly, yet at the same time beautiful, sharp and deadly. He stared along the edges of those black, ridged claws, his blue eyes staring, horrified as he realized yet again that no, this wasn't just lying in his bloodstream anymore, that this thing was actually taking form, overriding his natural appearance…
The muscles in his shoulder tensed slowly and he growled softly, more out of frustration than with strain, even though he would have been forgiven for that too; the thing was like a dead-weight, weighing him down, stopping him from running free. He watched as the horrendous black and red thing moved. He reached out with his other hand to touch it, to feel it, to make sure it was real and was yet again stunned when he realized that no, this was not made up out of any part of his imagination.
It felt like normal, human flesh. And that did nothing but terrify him even more. It felt so normal, yet when he stared at it, he felt utterly disgusted, like he wanted to vomit or something. It felt like flesh but it was every bit as deadly as a tiger's claw. The shock of all that he was seeing was making him feel light-headed and sick, forcing him to sit down quickly.
What was happening to him? And what about his brother? Had he still been alive (even though Dante doubted that he was dead) would he be facing the same problems? What was causing this? Was it some sort of curse that some tyrannical figure had placed upon him? Or was it…was it something worse?
Could it be that the human blood of his mother had finally met with a clash with the genetic legacy of his father? There was no real way he could find out and he had no one he could really turn to as it was. It wasn't as if he could just get up and visit his doctor.
"Hey doc, so what do you think has caused my arm to turn into a demonic one?"
Even though he knew it was there, he had no real concrete evidence.
He could see the claw-arm with the naked eye, it was true. But whenever he looked in the mirror, the claw-arm, like the parasitic vampire that he felt it was, could not be seen. Only an arm, normal and unharmed in any way remained for the eye to see. And he wouldn't dare try and find out whether anyone could see what his eyes could.
And that perhaps, was the greatest burden of all, knowing that this knowledge was reserved for him and him only.
Now he truly knew the meaning, of being alone.