Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or any of its characters.
The wandering hunter . . .
Who carries the demon blood within his veins . . .
The hunter never sleeps, never eats, only awakens to death . . .
Son of Sparda . . .
Who wields his own blade . . .
Protector of the realms of earth . . .
Who has not yet discovered his true power . . .
He sat in calm meditation, undaunted by the fearsome statues crucified at the temple door.
With beads of sweat running down his back, he waited.
With his eyes closed, he focused on the mission ahead of him.
With his mind clear, he took in everything around him . . .
Twin guns of steel to his right . . .
A medieval sword to his left . . .
The eerie silence of the misty morning . . .
And then . . . something that was not quite right . . .
Two shards of stone dropped to the ground, their sound echoing off the walls.
In their place two burning red eyes now glared at the intruder.
As suddenly as if they had never been frozen, the minotaur-like statues began to awaken with alarming speed, but he sat unmoving, silently feeling the cold steel of his handguns, waiting until the last possible moment . . .
With a roar the two statues lunged at the hunter.
As if they were in slow motion, the hunter launched himself into a nine- foot somersault and landed meters away from where the demons collided head on, losing consciousness . . .
Before another second had passed, more demons entered the area. One by one they came, until the chamber was full of demons and their high-pitched screeches and roars.
There were two minotaurs to replace those who had fallen . . . And a feline shapeshifter shrouded in shadow . . .
There were feminine wraiths, disguised by masks and armed with scythes, horrible to behold . . . And lizard warriors bladed to no end and armed with shields . . .
All with one command: Destroy the hunter . . .
As the Shadow made its first move, the hunter was already in his second state of motion. Moving as freely as a panther in its jungle, the hunter leaped off a nearby wall and launched into dropping position.
From this position, he pulled off twenty shots from his handguns within five seconds, and still had time to observe his surroundings-upside-down- before he reversed his position and brought his demonic sword upon his unfortunate adversary's exposed core. The core immediately dissipated and left behind nothing but mist.
He had no sooner landed when a Blade surprised him by ramming him head-on in the gut. As the hunter flew back, he adjusted himself in mid-air and landed gracefully on the solid stone floor.
". . . Is that all you've got?"
With a howl, the Blade launched himself at the hunter, with the rest of the pack close behind. Just before the lead Blade reached him, the hunter blasted it through the head at point blank range. The acidic mush that served as the brains of a Blade blinded the next two, and he loped off their heads without a second thought.
Stepping through the fallen corpses and fresh, thick blood, the hunter charged at the rest of the pack with his sword drawn. There was no sound save for a terrible squishing noise as the hunter sliced the first Blade in half through the middle. The sword ran clean through the monster, ignoring bone organs, muscle, and skin until it reached the other side of its victim.
He gutted the second Blade with a vertical slash from the bottom up, spilling its entrails across the previously clean temple floor. Then, abandoning his sword to its place on his back, the hunter pulled out his handguns and began blasting away at anything and everything that moved. Firing left and right, front and back, the hunter relied only on his demon sense to take out four more Blades and one of the Blood Goats.
But, as time ran on, the remaining four Blades launched a simultaneous attack and tackled the hunter to the ground. There was a brief struggle, and then . . . silence, no movement . . .
Blue electricity began to buzz around the collapsed pile of Blades, and they cautiously stepped back in confusion. A dark laugh could be heard emanating from the fallen corpse . . .
As the hunter's form slowly rose again, the figure standing before the demons no longer appeared human. With electricity crackling around him, the hunter had now assumed his true form . . . as a demon. Huge wings spread out from his back casting a ghastly shadow against the wall, his flaming crimson eyes casting a glare upon them all . . .
Before the Blades could even think, they were torn apart by thousands of bolts of lightning in a matter of split seconds. The cowardly Sin Scythes, daring not to remain another moment, attempted to flee . . . but the hunter showed no mercy. Casting himself into flight, he carried his sword high above his shoulder, and, like a dark angel of death, wrought his justice upon them.
None of the Sin Scythes survived. Their screams could be heard as their masks were shattered and their surreal forms faded away. The chamber was now washed with blood and all who now stood in the midst of it were the hunter and the last Blood Goat.
Trembling in fear the Blood Goat hissed a curse . . .
"Son of Sparda . . ."
As the hunter reverted to his human form, he raised his two handguns at point blank range and made his closing remark . . .
"When are you going to get it right? The name's Dante . . ."
The wandering hunter . . .
Who carries the demon blood within his veins . . .
The hunter never sleeps, never eats, only awakens to death . . .
Son of Sparda . . .
Who wields his own blade . . .
Protector of the realms of earth . . .
Who has not yet discovered his true power . . .
He sat in calm meditation, undaunted by the fearsome statues crucified at the temple door.
With beads of sweat running down his back, he waited.
With his eyes closed, he focused on the mission ahead of him.
With his mind clear, he took in everything around him . . .
Twin guns of steel to his right . . .
A medieval sword to his left . . .
The eerie silence of the misty morning . . .
And then . . . something that was not quite right . . .
Two shards of stone dropped to the ground, their sound echoing off the walls.
In their place two burning red eyes now glared at the intruder.
As suddenly as if they had never been frozen, the minotaur-like statues began to awaken with alarming speed, but he sat unmoving, silently feeling the cold steel of his handguns, waiting until the last possible moment . . .
With a roar the two statues lunged at the hunter.
As if they were in slow motion, the hunter launched himself into a nine- foot somersault and landed meters away from where the demons collided head on, losing consciousness . . .
Before another second had passed, more demons entered the area. One by one they came, until the chamber was full of demons and their high-pitched screeches and roars.
There were two minotaurs to replace those who had fallen . . . And a feline shapeshifter shrouded in shadow . . .
There were feminine wraiths, disguised by masks and armed with scythes, horrible to behold . . . And lizard warriors bladed to no end and armed with shields . . .
All with one command: Destroy the hunter . . .
As the Shadow made its first move, the hunter was already in his second state of motion. Moving as freely as a panther in its jungle, the hunter leaped off a nearby wall and launched into dropping position.
From this position, he pulled off twenty shots from his handguns within five seconds, and still had time to observe his surroundings-upside-down- before he reversed his position and brought his demonic sword upon his unfortunate adversary's exposed core. The core immediately dissipated and left behind nothing but mist.
He had no sooner landed when a Blade surprised him by ramming him head-on in the gut. As the hunter flew back, he adjusted himself in mid-air and landed gracefully on the solid stone floor.
". . . Is that all you've got?"
With a howl, the Blade launched himself at the hunter, with the rest of the pack close behind. Just before the lead Blade reached him, the hunter blasted it through the head at point blank range. The acidic mush that served as the brains of a Blade blinded the next two, and he loped off their heads without a second thought.
Stepping through the fallen corpses and fresh, thick blood, the hunter charged at the rest of the pack with his sword drawn. There was no sound save for a terrible squishing noise as the hunter sliced the first Blade in half through the middle. The sword ran clean through the monster, ignoring bone organs, muscle, and skin until it reached the other side of its victim.
He gutted the second Blade with a vertical slash from the bottom up, spilling its entrails across the previously clean temple floor. Then, abandoning his sword to its place on his back, the hunter pulled out his handguns and began blasting away at anything and everything that moved. Firing left and right, front and back, the hunter relied only on his demon sense to take out four more Blades and one of the Blood Goats.
But, as time ran on, the remaining four Blades launched a simultaneous attack and tackled the hunter to the ground. There was a brief struggle, and then . . . silence, no movement . . .
Blue electricity began to buzz around the collapsed pile of Blades, and they cautiously stepped back in confusion. A dark laugh could be heard emanating from the fallen corpse . . .
As the hunter's form slowly rose again, the figure standing before the demons no longer appeared human. With electricity crackling around him, the hunter had now assumed his true form . . . as a demon. Huge wings spread out from his back casting a ghastly shadow against the wall, his flaming crimson eyes casting a glare upon them all . . .
Before the Blades could even think, they were torn apart by thousands of bolts of lightning in a matter of split seconds. The cowardly Sin Scythes, daring not to remain another moment, attempted to flee . . . but the hunter showed no mercy. Casting himself into flight, he carried his sword high above his shoulder, and, like a dark angel of death, wrought his justice upon them.
None of the Sin Scythes survived. Their screams could be heard as their masks were shattered and their surreal forms faded away. The chamber was now washed with blood and all who now stood in the midst of it were the hunter and the last Blood Goat.
Trembling in fear the Blood Goat hissed a curse . . .
"Son of Sparda . . ."
As the hunter reverted to his human form, he raised his two handguns at point blank range and made his closing remark . . .
"When are you going to get it right? The name's Dante . . ."