Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, but I wished I did. All original character are mine by right, shall not be used without permission from the writer. Thank you.
Devil May Cry: When Darkness Dawns
Times were quiet in the dark, gloom skirts of the city even inside the building where the words 'Devil May Cry' flicked in array of pink neon lights. The doors below were much newer than the rest of building. His trophies were pinned against the wall and pillar with their trained sword though their skulls, and Force Edge displaying proudly on the wall rack. Though the cracked door behind him, Alastor sparking violently though the clear pane of specially-made glass and along side with it, the Ifrit gauntlets lit like an endless torch though the darkness of this cell that he calls home. He slouched back into his chair with Ebony in hand. The clip of the black handmade gun clicked in and out as he casually was playing with it rather loading. Phone bell somehow managed to break the mist of boredom for a moment.
"Hello, Devil May Cry. . . . . .Sorry, not my type. . . . .Go find some other sucker." He put it back on the base. The phone rang again. Dante took his time letting rang three more times before deciding to pick it up, "Hello . . . Hmm, people missing? Is that a job for-Oh, I don't know-the police? Some kind of shadow attacked you. All right, I don't do this for anyone but I'll stop by and give it free inspection. However, the extermination will cost you. See you in ten." Ah, it may just a prankster trying to escape a subway fare. Dante popped the clip back into Ebony and returns the black gun to its holster. His sword the Force Edge (a.k. a. 'Woozy') was removed from the wall mount and was strapped firmly against his back. Figuring that this job would too easy for the Alastor or Ifrit Gauntlets, he neglected to retrieve them and left the door.
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You can't hide it forever.
I must
It will awaken again . . . Sayla, you will not stop it.
Her eyelids slowly crept open, and Sayla inspected her bedroom while her face recovered from shock. The only light in the room was her clock that flicked 6:15 p.m. in red glows. You overslept again, Sayla. Poor Tremor . . .At this rate, I'm surprised that he hasn't bitten the hand that feeds him. She thought with a groan and rose from her bed. The vertical binds opened with slight creaking, and rays of the sunset crept the room in an array of red and orange hues. Beyond that glass barrier in front of her bed was sight that usually captured in a painting; the sun ablaze crimson over the horizon of the sea with the shadows of smoke and ship along aside. She unbound her hair, and the dusk's rays created an illusion against her long, straight main with sparks of red and orange stopping a little below her shoulders. Her hair's auburn brass reflected the sunset perfectly and the serene jade tone in her eyes. Aroma of the fresh coffee kept her late wakeup pleasant as she left the bedroom to living area and then to the door where the apartment ended and her office began . . .with the feeling that she should let her pet in the apartment.
When she walked though the door to her office with nothing more than her sheer nightdress and a bathrobe that was no longer than what she slept in. The office oddly looked lively with tall lamp glowing brightly next to the armoire and the houseplant in the corner. Even the door looked the same with the words "Sayla Natasha: Private Investigator" printed in the bold letters against the glass pane with "Neo-mythical and Demonic Investigations" in much smaller print on the lower corner. Her desk did not exactly get a good rating in tidiness. Papers were piled haphazardly and the organization between them was terrible that someone would think a twelve year old worked here. At least, the neatly confined file cabinet showed that she was getting used to doing her own secretary work. She opened the office door quietly, and German shepherd perked awake and trotted inside. If it were possible, the dog did not look disappointed and just happily climbed to Sayla's chest with pleasing pant.
"I see you have gotten used to my tardiness, Tremor" Sayla caressed beneath the underside of her dog's ears gently urging him to get down. Standing in perfect balance on his hind legs, Tremor took a while to understand before he settled and ran out the door disappearing in the hall and returned with the newspaper in his mouth a few minutes later.
"Thanks. . . Come on, you deserve something nice from me."
She led her companion into the kitchen, and her meaning of being nice was a raw piece of breakfast steak and a piece of various leftovers. To a dog, that's more than spoiling, but Tremor didn't seem care. He has his nose deep into the feast without a care where his master was.
A radio announcement was heard though the rushing water from the shower, " It's thirty minutes before the hour, and astronomers are baffled over the possibility of the city seeing its first ever solar eclipse. Lights out is supposed to be around 7 pm and expecting to remain though nightfall, so if I were any of those 'all-nighters' just coming out of hibernation I would return to your caves . . .it going to be a long night. Here's another thirty min of—" The multiple jets of water stopped with the water dripping rhythmically from the shower head onto the fiberglass floor. Glass door and mirror were hazed as Sayla stepped out of the shower with a tower over her form. Her hand slid off the switch of the radio,
I'm taking the night off. . .no exceptions.
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His senses caught a faint, growing presence of dark aura and he waved his hand motioning the clerk to go back to the entrance. Dante saw in the girl's face that she worried about leaving him and gave reassuring smile that he will be all right. Her slothful retreating steps quicken to a rushing race as she disappeared into the tunnel. Ivory and Ebony were removed from their hostler. He held them up next to his face ready to aim for what in front of him, "Here, Kitty, kitty."
Furious growling of the shadowy feline echoed in the tunnel and red eyes glowed at him threaten. It made a lunge at him more mocking than offensive that he dodged it easily. Ivory and Ebony released a hailstorm of bullets—some striking the demon while others cratered holes in the brick and metal. The shadow jumped, hovered in midair into a wheel of spines as if it going tackle him, but it did not. Instead, the thorns lengthen and launched at him in an unpredictable speed.
He aimed the Ebony hoping that a bullet would interrupt the deadly conversion but clip was empty. Dante paid for his mistake, and one of the incoming spikes impaled him in his side. The shadow reverted back to his original form launching itself a distance from him and rushed at him strike again. In a spur of the second, his eye glimpse at the metal drum next to him with the 'Flammable' warning hidden behind the rust. By the time, the shadow realized that it missed and caught nothing but Dante gliding backward in midair with the Ivory nearly pointing onward at wall. A bullet pieced the side of the drum and its contents exploded. Dante landed in back roll and returned his feet, and the core of the shadow was revealed then consumed by the blaze.
He returned the guns back to their holsters, and slid his hand against the wound on his stomach. Blood crusted on his hand, but the wound was slowly healing. However, his teeth clenched as the injury still hurt like hell, but suddenly he realized that he was suddenly losing strength. I'm wounded that badly? He thought as something powerful was trying to render him unconsciousness and the injury was not helping. . .
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Sayla could not fall back to sleep as easy, but instead found herself knelt on the ivory carpet with the tarot cards in a sequence. Her mind was yet to have the idea of reading them as she drew them mindlessly, but when she saw the Temperance card she felt a bit of relief since the voices in her dream nearly shot her nerves. She dauntlessly nodded then flipped over the final card. . . The Tower
She cringed at the sight of the card. Not a good omen. She thought as she looked ahead at the sun then heard Tremor barking timorously as the sun being overwhelmed by the moon. The sun became more of an abyssal orb and corona flares an unholy halo. She tried to stand up but overwhelming heaviness that grew in her limb thwart her efforts. The air refused to come into her lungs; her heart beat violently as if it was about to come out of her chest. Her body lay nearly lifeless on the carpet as she slipped consciousness unable to hear a car crashing from the outside nor panic screams of people in the city as everything and everyone fell into a death-tone slumber.
--It looks like I could have add more, but I didn't. I won't hold back on future chapter. (I know the radio personality is really bad.)
--I really don't know how to read tarot, so don't ask me. I did some research in order to find what cards were suited for the story.