Chapter 1
Located on a barren stretch of road called Dawson Street, 'Devil May Cry' was originally a two-story old house, with two small bedrooms atop the second floor and a small basement down below.
It barely had any space, cramped up with junk and weapons and more junk. The bottom floor had creaky boards with ancient wood, smelling of pleasant pine.
Unfortunately, that mixed with another disgusting odor, as if there were dead bodies rotting inside the building walls. Soon, the stench filled Vergil's nostrils as he walked up the stone stairs.
Judas Priest, that shit stunk.
The place, however, was oddly familiar, as though Vergil had been in there not too long ago. He couldn't remember though, the 'when' and the 'how' eluded his inquisitive mind.
Dante was already ahead of him, inhaling deeply into the musty atmosphere, home-sweet-home! and spreading his arms in a comically exaggerated fashion.
Vergil tried to ignore his brother's unnecessary theatrical behavior.
"Home-sweet-home!" He even said it out loud, dear Christ. Dante exclaimed it to the ceiling, the water stains forming a face he dubbed 'Harold.'
Harold was a friendly little guy, especially on those long, lonely nights . . .
Considering the building's condition, it seemed it had been abandoned for years now. Well, it made perfect sense for the devil hunter to be here.
Vergil scrunched up his nose, his frown deepened as he skimmed the interior of the old place, which had devolved into little more than a shed. It was dirty, dusty and lacked proper insulation.
At some point, there were holes in the walls. Besides, what is that gooey substance sticking to the ceiling sweet merciful god- Vergil wondered about this, but then he decided he didn't need to know.
Dante was always lazy, but jeez his habits had gotten bad.
"No wonder. You would call this rat cage a home." Vergil said, referring to his surroundings disdainfully.
"Shut it." Dante said apathetically, doing his best at giving Vergil a death-glare, "You don't live here, so quit yappin'. I'm doin' you a favor, letting ya crash at my place and all—"
"I would gladly choose a hostel over this hole in the ground." Vergil meant it.
There was no way to take that either, he couldn't stand even a night in this . . . This complete squalor.
He even considered crawling back to Hell at this point, perhaps there was a nice piece of brimstone he could use as a pillow- you know what, here was alright.
"Yeah like Hell was such a palace for your majesty." The man in red replied.
Then he tried the light switch.
No matter how many times he pushed the miniature lever up or down, nothing would happen,"—'The hell . . . why isn't the electricity working?"
Looking up at the ceiling, he went on a passive-aggressive rant, "Dammit, I gave them one friggin' job: take care of the bills while I'm gone. I even had Morrison try and explain to em'."
Just when he was about to turn and face Vergil again, the slop off the ceiling came loose and fell. Time froze as it landed right on Dante's face, sliding through his nostrils and through his sinuses.
Dante stayed in place as he grasped the substance and tore it off of himself.
Looking down in his hand, he saw it was just sludge, corroded off from the AC unit.
"Well, brilliant."
"Doesn't that sti-" Vergil was interrupted.
"Don't." Dante held up his index finger with his other, cleanish hand, "Just don't."
Raising an amused brow, Vergil suppressed a laugh and let out a dry scoff, rolling his eyes. Yeah, you would do that wouldn't you, ya uptight pointy-haired prick.
"Your secret is safe with me." The elder sibling responded, elder by only a few seconds chronologically, older by light years mentally.
Shrugging coolly, Vergil continued to ignore the way Dante threw the shit in the trash, and then used an unpaid bill to blow his nose. Typical.
"Go check out the roof, will ya?" The embattled twin announced, still busy finding something to clean his hands with, "Maybe the water's still running, I'm in dire need of a shower,"
"I'm not your keeper, Dante," Vergil retorted, "It is your job to uphold your home, so do so yourself."
"Yeah?" Finally getting the remains off his fingers, Dante said, "Well I ain't lettin' you use the hot water then."
Damn.
"Well, I'll just purchase food for myself then." Vergil replied.
"Oh-ho, with what money, Mr. Fat Bags?"
"Dunce."
"Shithead."
Brothers in arms tear each other's throats out. Heartwarming.
Exasperated, Dante walked up to the makeshift kitchen, turning on the tap, when, "Aw fuck — The water too! Jesus Christ, I need to stop trusting those two women."
"Perhaps you should have placed your faith in another, Dante."
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Jeez, can a man get a break?"
"DANTE!" He heard a scream and the front door jingle.
Of course not.
A long, high-pitched, yet familiar shrill answered Dante's apparently cosmic question, leaning on the dingy desk.
The red devil put his hands on his head. Well, if hell was that easy to survive for a year with no food or water while fighting his brother, surely adding this to the mix would make other devils weep.
Sorrow was his own yard, kept smacked with dope so that reality wouldn't come ruining his little fantasy. Of course, what good was the fantasy when it just didn't satisfy you anymore?
What does that even mean?
"Not again . . ." He murmured as the blonde girl with long curly hair appeared at the door, ignoring Vergil's presence entirely. She marched to the counter, screaming . . . Again.
Joy.
"YOU'RE BACK!"
The legendary demon slayer just had to; he just had to give himself a long and painful facepalm to the wall. And his fingers still smelt.
Drawing in a long and very frustrated sigh, he shared a look with the confused Vergil and then glanced back at the girl in front of her, tiredly.
"Lady told me you were gone!" The girl clapped her hand on her chest in a dramatic fashion, "I thought I was never going to see you again."
"Yeah, yeah Patty," Waving nonchalantly, Dante leaned further onto the counter; he wished he would've never come back considering this whole situation, "Do you need anything?"
"Well Duh! You missed out on a lot mister," Patty put her hands on her hip, scolding.
"I bet . . ." Then a thought occurred to him, "Say, where is Lady?"
"Why do you ask?" She replied.
"Oh no reason, I just wanted to . . . Pay it forward." He said, frowning deeply to himself.
Oh he was a sinister bastard when he wanted to be.
"Oh, uh, well, I dunno, I haven't seen her much since about a year ago. Saw Trish the other day though."
Not really listening, Dante put his hand under his chin, looking at anywhere but her, "That's nice, uh-huh."
"You missed my prom, the graduation day and my 18th birthday. Ya also missed my 19th, my 20th, even my 21st birthday Dante! You promised you'd take me out when I turned 18, asshole!"
Okay, no.
Dante was dead-sure that whatever he'd say, he had NEVER promised such a thing.
"Ya lost me at the 'you' part." He said, assuredly bored, looking to Vergil, who still stood behind Patty.
Patty looked between them, noticing the older brother for the first time since walking in.
Dante took the opportunity to communicate with Vergil. His eyes were practically pleading with him, and he started moving his hands and making faces.
Vergil really didn't understand what half of it meant, it was psycho-babbling-gibberish to him. Dante tried dutifully and desperately to at least telepathically ask his brother to help him out.
Brother's have that right? Twin's especially got some kind of ESP-thing going on at least.
But no.
Patty turned back to the Devil in red and said, "Whaddya mean!? I clearly remember 'you' saying that!"
Dante ceased immediately, looking at her almost like he was interested, "Hmm? Ah, doesn't ring a bell, kid."
"I'm not a kid anymore!" She yelled at him.
Vergil furrowed back, not sure what Dante meant by all the exaggerated hand gestures and stupid faces he was making.
Stepping further out, but as soon as Dante made a gesture with his finger across his throat, the dark slayer instantly knew what he meant. Or thought he did.
A ghost of a smirk crossed over his lips, and he pulled out Yamato, unsheathing the mighty steel and placing the edge of the long sharp blade on the girl's right shoulder.
Then in the most threatening way possible, brainiac rumbled,
"Get away from him, child . . ."
Patty's eyes widened and she yelped instantly. Without a word, her eyes rolled back inside her skull and she fainted. Falling to the ground, Vergil didn't even catch her, looking down pleased.
"Damn it Vergil," Looking over the desk and the counter, Dante cursed aloud, "I didn't say to scare the kid to death!"
"You're welcome." Vergil replied, deadpan.
"I am most certainly not!" Dante yelled back, mocking Vergil's rigid speech pattern.
Twirling Yamato, Vergil brought it back to rest within it's scabbard, staring at the girl dully, "Pardon me, I thought you wanted me to behead her." He replied wryly.
"Oh good god, I brought home the Punisher." Dante shook his head, holding it in his hand. Looking back up, he raised a brow, then he looked back down at Patty, cringing at what she'd just said.
He repeated again, "Can a man get a god damn break?"
Scratching the back of his head, the devil hunter let a dirty grimace spread over his face.
"Well, that woulda been illegal anyway." He shrugged, throwing his hands to the air, "Whatever man, I give up. Hotel it is."
Strolling round the corner of the kitchen counter, he went for the door, "I need some fresh air after that. God damn."
"What?" Vergil said, turning but failing to sound low and serious enough, "I did my best to decode your stupid faces, what more do you want?"
"Is that a real question?" Dante replied without turning, and as he opened the door, he muttered, "After all that time we spent 'bonding' in hell, maybe ya haven't changed."
A/N: especial thanks to the amazing Wolf Angel, you rock man!
Please don't forget to review!
