DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN AO NO EXORCIST, BLUE EXORCIST, OR ANY OTHER EXORCIST IN THIS STORY (or any other characters). I do own my OCs however. Please do not use them without permission if you ever intend to do so! n_n

GENRES: Adventure/Humor/Friendship.

WARNING!

*May contain hints of yaoi.

*No severe swearing.

*I am in no way responsible for any emotional scars you may receive during the course of this fic.

Summary:

Cross Okumura is the only daughter of Satan. Created artificially from Rin Okumura's DNA in a lab and imprisoned for the past fifteen years, her sole purpose is to become the ideal weapon for the True Cross Order.

Cross herself is as clueless as a bag of kittens to all of this.

She is considered "defective" as she has the appearance of a demon, but is unable to use Satan's flames, which is key in her becoming a weapon. However, when Satan learns of her existence, he considers her the perfect vessel for him to take over Assiah with, as he believes she is nothing more of an empty shell; she will not die if he possesses her.

Will this artificial demon be able to find her flames-more importantly, her human heart, before Satan makes his move?

Take my hand, lovely readers, and prepare to enter into the world of demons and demise!

"The demon who hungers for Satan's defeat, the human who is Satan's son, and the girl who Satan wishes to possess."

Dance with the Devil

Prologue

"Assiah, the realm of humans, and Gehenna, the realm of demons. Normally, these two dimensions would never intersect, but having possessed all material substances, the demons are now intruding on the material world. But among the human race, there are those who can exorcise such demons — the Exorcists."

"Hahah, yeah. Standing over Satan's spawn day and night is pretty boring, but what can you do, right?"

She clenched her fists against the walls, digging her nails into her palms. The silver shackles on her hands rattled and clanged in protest to the sudden force, but refused to release her from their icy hold.

"She's Satan's spawn, but she can't even use any flames. She's defective."

Her lips began to tremble and her thin frame quivered slightly. Her head hung low, nearly touching the floor, and her long navy hair shadowed her facial features; she did not like being seen in such a state.

I'm… defective. Defective. She shook her head in an attempt to brush the thoughts aside, but to no avail. No good as a demon... Is there a place for a defective demon in a world like this?

Those unpleasant thoughts had tortured her, haunted her for so long; those people behind the glass constantly ridiculed her. Slowly, she raised her head to look up at her observers with solemn blue eyes. She could hear them talking about her again.

"Why is the Order keeping her here anyway? I thought she was ordered to be executed a while ago by the Vatican," a blonde guard grumbled to his other companions. He made it obvious to everyone that he detested her very existence, and that he would much rather have her dead.

Blondie. The girl nodded, approving of the nickname she had given him.

Five other guards stood beside Blondie chatting idly to each other. They were all standing behind bullet-proof glass screening, reinforced by AAA-Grade holy water. As far as they were concerned, they were completely protected from her.

She huffed in annoyance and flicked her tail. She hated holy water. It burned and irritated her skin like a branding iron covered in itching powder. As for the bulletproof glass… was she really that dangerous? Either way, it was true—they were completely out of her grasp.

The other guard—a brunette—shrugged in response to his friend's comment and took a swig of coffee from his mug. "Beats me. It was an order from the higher-ups." He glanced at the demon nonchalantly before adding, "I hear they have another one just like her at the True Cross Academy."

She blinked once. Brownie.

"Huh," the blonde guard huffed. "It makes me wonder what they're planning. Are they going to blackmail Satan or something?" Brownie laughed at his friend's statement dryly. "What's so funny?"

Brownie put his mug down on one of the wooden desks and leaned back against the glass screening. "I honestly doubt Satan would care if we executed his spawn or not."

She hung her head and stared blankly at the concrete floor.

My own father. Satan. It's his fault everyone hates me…

She bore her fangs at the ground below, hissing softly to herself. "I do not think ignorance is bliss. Not at all."

All she knew was that her father's name was Satan, and that he was a demon like her—a very powerful demon who used blue flames. Was she considered a "defective" demon because she could not use blue flames like her father could? Or like the "other one," whoever that was.

She whipped her head up when she heard a sudden commotion behind the looking glass. The lights had been turned off in the small, protected room. A tall, thin silhouette seemed to have intruded the area and was discussing something with five other silhouettes—her guards.

And then they fell to the floor.

The silhouette dusted itself off and tipped its hat to the now fallen soldiers, and slowly made its way to the large, steel doors that were the gateway to her prison.

Is this where it ends? Am I going to die here without doing anything? She shook her head and grief found its way into her heart. I have no past. And now… I'll have no future. What a cruel existence this has—

She was torn away from her thoughts at the sound of the heavily reinforced doors opening before her. A man clothed in white entered the room slowly; the sound of his footsteps echoed across the dark, concrete prison. She widened her eyes with curiosity to see who the man was and to analyze him, as it was in her nature to observe everything around her.

He wore a pristine white ringmaster coat with obnoxiously large red buttons. A pair of poofy white shorts with red-and-white-candy-cane leggings underneath decorated his lower half, and a long, white cape trailed behind his body as he approached her. The pink parasol dancing in his right hand amused her to some extent, and she watched the foreign object intently, enamored by its bright colors.

She stared at it dumbly—that is, until she realized the footsteps had stopped.

She recoiled when she realized the man had come to stand not a foot before her while she had been occupied by his colorful-stick-thing. She looked up at him fearfully with wavering blue eyes and shrunk back against the wall, causing her silver chains to rattle rather loudly in the suddenly silent atmosphere.

He tipped his tall, white top-hat to her and smiled at her as if he knew a very… delicious secret. He extended his left hand towards her and exclaimed, "Hello my good lady! It is a pleasure to see you again, don't you agree?"

She stared at his hand blankly for a moment, but recognized it as a welcoming gesture as she had seen her guards shake hands many times before to greet each other. However, she could very well not shake his hand as hers were shackled against the wall, so she snaked her tail out and tapped the end against his palm.

The man arched his brow, but shook her tail nonetheless. "Oh my." He wiped his hand off against the side of his coat and pushed his top-hat back from his forehead. He looked down at her, amusement dancing in his emerald eyes. "Well, it's comforting to see that you have learned some manners in the very least!"

She tilted her head slightly and perked her pointed ears up. "You are?" she asked curiously, wagging her tail from side-to-side. She noted that his hair color was a slightly lighter shade of navy than her own, and that he had a small amount of hair growing out from his chin. How strange.

He grinned devilishly and placed his left hand across his chest as he bowed to her. "Ah yes, my name is Mephisto Pheles. I am from the True Cross Order." He folded his parasol, gestured to her, and winked in one quick, flowing movement. "…And I've come to take you with me."

Her eyes flickered up to meet his own and she stared at him in wonder, trying to process the statement he made. "Take me… with you?" she repeated in confusion.

"Indeed!" Mephisto nodded enthusiastically. "…But I have one question before I can take you away from here." He grinned with satisfaction when determination dawned upon the demon's face—it was the same expression he had seen before. How Nostalgic.

She pondered the words he had said to her. What kind of question would this be? She had very little knowledge of the outer world—or of anything for that matter. But she was oh-so-willing to leave her icy prison; her home for the past fifteen years.

"What would you do…" he said each word slowly; deliberately. "…If you had power?"

Mephisto knew how to reach the weak point of every distraught person he encountered—such was his gift. He knew their deepest desires, their strongest wants. Yes, for Rin Okumura, becoming an exorcist was his greatest desire; to kill Satan himself. But what this girl wanted was…

"I'd use my power against Satan. I won't be... a victim."

Mephisto smiled and shadowed his eyes with his hat."I see." The silver shackles on the girl's wrists fell to the ground, setting her free for the first time in her entire existence. Mephisto outstretched his arm to the demon, a devilish grin spread across his lips.

"Good answer."

…Another piece enters my wonderful game...

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Thank you very much for reading Dance With the Devil!