Quick Summary:
What if Sparda had a story to tell that he hadn't told anyone before? What if he revealed some details in his life that he only kept for himself? It will all be soon discovered by a small journalist named Eliot Hunter who happened to stumble upon him in a park. As curios as she is, she will do anything to get that interview from this mysterious stranger and perhaps reveal his dark secret.
A prequel to Devil may cry. Set before Sparda x Eva, also slight AU.
I do not own Devil may cry, nor do I own it's canon characters. All rights reserved for Capcom ©
I only own my OC
I hope you enjoy this little story :3
1941, Avarice City
A young woman in a beige buttoned coat wandered through the dangerous streets of Avarice city at night. A cold and rather harsh wind whipped against her small frame, causing her to shiver and hug herself even tighter to maintain her body-heat.
But her coat alone did little to provide protection against the icy cold wind that roamed through this city. Her dark ash strands flowed almost gracefully through the wind, some strands even got in her vision which she in response brushed them aside with slight annoyance.
Her name was Eliot Hunter. She was a rather petite, lithe woman but was well-endowed with an above average height. Her peridot eyes always glistened with curiosity, always on a constant search for the answer she was desperately looking for. Eliot was a small journalist who chased fairy-tales of the supernatural phenomenon. Many people had called her a lunatic, others took pity on her for being such a naïve child and some even tried to help her to get her head out of the clouds. But Eliot believed otherwise. She knew for a fact that she was mentally healthy and wondered why people could not see the inevitable, why they did not believe that there might be something true about these myths of the legendary dark Knight. Why else would people tell such stories? Why else would there be a memorial in the middle of the park of this particular devil that turned against his kind for the sake of the human-race?
To her, those people were blind and oblivious to so many things; for her, they were the ones who needed pity, not her. It was rather sad really, that so many people around this world are cut off from the spiritual beings that once surrounded them. Not that Eliot was a psychic or anything; no, she just had a very distinctive gut-feeling. And her gut-feeling was never wrong.
And today, she had a pretty good gut-feeling. Today, she would find the perfect proof that there is truth to these stories of the dark prince that called himself Sparda, the one who parted the world of mortals from the realm of shadows and demonic entities.
She stopped in her tracks to take a moment and took a deep breath. Yep. She knew it. Today was the day. She closed her eyes and let her intuition take the wheel as other people passed her, tossing her curios glances on the way.
All of them who passed her were of no interest. None of them had a special air about them. After a good five minutes or so, she flicked her green hues open, releasing a heavy disappointed sigh at the realization that she hadn't found anything at all that could lead her on to something….or someone.
She continued on her way and wandered through all streets from the dirty allies to the districts of the nobles to the suburban areas. Cars were honking at each other and many neon signs illuminated the streets with their shrill, buzzing glow.
"Still nothing of interest." She uttered under her breath with a frown forming on her pale features.
She turned on her heel and was about to give up on her fruitless search for tonight. Why would she even think that someone might cross her randomly on the streets and happened to know some explicit details about Sparda? That would be too far fetched.
Perhaps…she was a fool and did not see it because she was too stubborn and instead of using her head, she listened to her gut way too often.
But then again.., why, why was this feeling so prominent then? It was like spark of excitement wrecking through her body and she did not know what it was she was so excited about.
Perhaps there was something to it and – no, no. She had to stop immediately and quit making a fool out of herself. Eliot was about to give up and leave this subject be. Then, a certain unknown invisible force tugged the end of her beige coat. The tug was strong enough to catch her full attention. As startled as she was, she whipped her head back to the direction of this strange force…. but nobody was there. Okay, this was really eerie.
Either her lack of sleep was getting to her or she failed to take her medication for her Leukemia.
For a while Eliot stood there like a solid statue, unmoving as she tried to make out the source of the sudden touch. As it eventually turned out to be nothing, Eliot brushed it aside and cursed her vivid imagination when she headed back to her apartment until it came again.
This time, this force was a lot stronger and she could even make out a shape of hands pulling her shoulder in order to turn her around. The woman's gaze hardened with suspicion. "Okay, I know you've had your share of fun but this shit isn't funny. Either you stop or I'll notify the police." She said…before realizing that she was all on her own, talking to herself.
Then suddenly, two hands pushed her from behind and Eliot tried to smack those hands off of her but instead she only managed to hit thin air. Her lashing out at this invisible being did not stop this force from pushing her into the direction of the park.
Eliot squirmed a little but refrained herself from screaming since there was actually no reason to scream when there was nobody there. The energy pursued to push her all the way until she reached the entrance of the park and as this presence came, it vanished, like a ghostly apparition.
Eliot relaxed almost spontaneously but she couldn't help but cast one last glance to this….whatever it was behind her.
"Okay, I should really stop reading so much mythological bullshit." She admitted before she attended back to the park in front of her. Strangely enough, the cold wind had turned into a gentle caress and even the clouds cleared themselves from the beautiful night-sky, revealing a glorious sea of stars, glistening with brilliance through the dark night.
The moon did the rest of the job by illuminating the place with enough radiance to see clearly. It was a rare thing, especially in this city.
Eliot checked her surroundings one last time to make sure that there was indeed no one there, if there would be than this person was in a desperate need of a hobby.
As she turned around, she shrugged and decided that it couldn't hurt to visit the park and see the memorial just for old time's sake. As she marched along the path, the dark marvel statue came in sight, standing out as if it were screaming for attention. This statue itself looked quite intimidating. It appeared like a wild horseman with a horned helmet, dark armor and a sword in his right hand as he screamed for battle.
Its appearance scared many children and even adults but to Eliot, it was a fascinating sight.
As Eliot drew closer towards the marble carved statue, she saw someone standing there. That immediately perked her interest as she leaned in and narrowed her green hues to make out this particular frame that stood there unmoving, almost as if this person was a statue himself.
It was a man, that much was for certain but what stood out mostly was his height. Even from afar he appeared towering. Eliot sucked in a breath and contemplated if whether she should or not continue to head his way. She wanted to see the statue from a close angle but this man was standing there as he examined the memorial with unwavering attention. She figured that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
She didn't have problems approaching others…..but it was late and this peculiar man was giving off a vibe that was a bit unsettling. No, she couldn't turn back now or else those strange invisible hands will get all touchy and push her back to this place no doubt, besides, she felt drawn to this area. It was a place of peace and she enjoyed it every now and then. She won't let anyone take her peaceful moments from her. Not even from this odd fellow over there.
With a deep exhale, she gathered her courage and approached the statue further with slow and silent steps. But the closer she got, the more this man radiated energy. It was tingling and overwhelming at the same time. What was wrong with her? Why was this man intimidating her so much? All he did was standing there and examine this memorial. There was no harm in that. But then why was he radiating such a presence that could daunt anyone who came near him?
Those questions made her curiosity and hunger for knowledge swell. She had to find out. She had to know who this person was and why he was so radiant.
When she only stood a few feet away from him now, she could now make out his features. He was a tall man as mentioned. He wore a fine dark grey trench coat with an eggplant colored shirt and a black cravat, a fashionable scarf covered with a beautiful elegant pattern that hung loosely around his neck, a pair of black business men trousers and a pair of black leather gloves that protected his hands from the cold.
His posture was straight and proud but his hair did not fit the rest of him. It was the most intriguing asset of him since it was the most brilliant shade of platinum she had ever seen, they were short and tousled, a bit messy but over and all absolutely gorgeous. It glistened in the moon-light, reflecting the lunar rays as he moved his head.
Was he and old man? No one had such white silvery hair at that age. He looked more like he was in his mid twenties, about twenty five or so judging by his well-built physique that lingered beneath all this clothing.
"Do you know it's rude to stare?" the silverette suddenly piped up as he did not remove his gaze from the intriguing monument. Eliot jumped with a gasp, her eyes slightly widening from his sudden reaction to her presence. He was right; Eliot had been staring at him without saying a single word which was a pretty awkward scene. The young journalist had never found herself gaping at someone for this long.
Now this is really awkward.
A nervous smile curled on her rose-tinted lips "Um.. my apologies. I didn't mean to stare, I was just….uh.." the brunette trailed of when she realized that she was rambling.
"-Fascinated by this memorial?" he finished with his deep and sultry tone. Eliot didn't know what to say after that but she could detect a hint of amusement laced in his rather pleasant voice.
"Or…was it me that you're fascinated with?" a small smirk swept over his lips.
Eliot arched a keen brow at him. Was this man serious?
The smile on his face sparked a certain temper that she did her best to conceal most of the time but he managed to agitate her with only a few words. Eliot bristled visibly, wanting to tell this man to mind his own business when he turned around to reveal his face.
Eliot was caught off guard by his stunning appearance. She thought he looked good from behind but this…..was almost unearthly. Her eyebrows soared almost to her hairline when her eyes met his for the first time.
He had the most vibrant eyes she had ever seen, almost appearing cobalt blue but they were piercing and icy at the same time. His eyebrows were the same shade of his hair even though they were partially covered by his bangs. His features confirmed that he wasn't an old man, no he was very young and sharp like the way he dressed.
His regal lines and contours matched his attire almost perfectly along with his straight patrician nose and sculpted lips. Despite his abnormally good looks, he still came off as masculine and natural.
The stranger's brow rose when he caught her staring at him again. "You are staring again." he reminded her as he continued to smile at her impishly.
Eliot snapped back to reality, scoffing as her pale face hardened with a stern expression "So what if I am? Have you ever considered that I might have been staring at the statue instead of you?" Eliot retorted.
At this his forehead creased with sardonic amusement "Oh really? Don't take me for a fool. I can distinctively tell if someone is staring at this statue or is looking directly at me." he fired back at her, completely calm and confident.
The nerve of this man!
The woman could feel the irritation bubbling inside her but perhaps it was better to settle this in a calm way like a proper adult. She heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her messy ash-brown locks. "Okay…., I may have been staring.. just a bit, but only out of sheer curiosity. It is a rare occasion seeing someone standing there in the middle of the night leering at a lifeless statue." Her voice dropped lower as she gave him an expectant glance, hoping that he wouldn't give her another smartass answer.
The cryptic male did not answer; instead he walked towards her with long strides and stopped right before the edge of her personal bubble. His aura was daunting her and she already felt uncomfortably close to him. In response, she took a step backwards to create some distance between them.
"Some people just like to enjoy their time by looking at things….. in peace and quiet." He emphasized the last syllables with a mocking, condescending look creeping on his face.
What? This guy is obviously delusional. Everybody has the right to visit the park and enjoy some 'alone-time'. This man was very bold and rude but before Eliot could reply to his discourteous comment he spoke again.
"What is a small girl like you doing alone out here anyway?" he suddenly asked, changing the subject.
His expression also softened somewhat as he gazed down at her.
"I've been on a search..,"
"..for?"
"For someone to interview…., I'm a journalist." Eliot mumbled as she looked down to the side, not even bothering to cast her gaze up at him for she couldn't take the smug expression on his face anymore.
"A journalist? At this hour? You must be a hard-working young woman." He noted with slight impression. Her peridot hues met his again but she noticed that his smug expression melted into a soft and gentle smile "Yes.. I'm working on a story that is based on mythology….well, more an urban legend that many locals know. It's about a dark knight named Sparda….. I've been trying to finish my story but I just can't find any other explicit details, that's why I can't finish my work." She sighed a little, embarrassment clear written all over her face. She felt so stupid for chasing fairy-tales….but then again she didn't want to give up on it just yet.
The silverette just looked at her with a blank expression before it shifted into an unreadable one "The legend of Sparda, eh?" he tilted his head to the side in curiosity.
Without another word, he closed the space between them with two more steps, now towering over her with his gigantic height. Eliot felt so small and almost bullied just by his presence "I might be able to help you with your story after all." He said as he gave her a cryptic smile together with a glint burning in his blue optics.
The woman's face colored itself with bewilderment, excitement, relief and a hint of inquisitiveness. "..R-really? I mean, yes that would be really helpful! Thank you so very much. I've been dying to find someone that knows some things about him that weren't written in the story-books that you can find in your local library." She chimed with gratitude.
"What's your name anyway?" at this question, he simply stared at her.
The way he looked at her made her blush a little but she managed to maintain her cool "I'm Eliot Hunter by the way." She introduced herself first.
"My name is Alexander, Alexander Redgrave. A pleasure." He smiled down at her with a formal bow, taking her small hand in his and planted a soft lingering kiss on her knuckles.