A/N: I do not own DMC, blah, blah, blah, let's just get to the fic, shall we?
A lone, slim figure slipped silently through the shadows, her black leather boots making little sound on the pavement. Her long, light brown hair hung in a thick braid down the back of her black and red tank top with three buckles across the front. Her long legs were concealed by black pants with two buckles on either thigh, a dagger of a twisted, tapering design slipped into the two on the right side. Her ice-blue eyes pierced the night as she closed in on her prey. She was the Devil Hunter, Selene.
Selene was born with demonic powers, like her father Dante, but they had slept within her for years, giving her the semblance of a normal child. But when they woke, it was with violent retribution. What had caused this was uncertain. Perhaps it was because they had lain dormant for too long. Perhaps it was because she, in her childish innocence, had infuriated her darker, demon side. Or perhaps it had something to do with her right middle finger…or lack thereof.
Ten years earlier…Selene, five years old and dressed in a sky-blue dress with pink hair ribbons, was sitting on the smooth stone steps of the library waiting for her parents to come and collect her. She was perfectly content to wait and read her book. The sun warmed the steps she sat on, a delicate breeze played with her hair, and her book completely engrossed her. So rapt was she, that she didn't notice when the breeze intensified and blocked out the sun with clouds. That is, she didn't notice until a voice from the newly-appeared shadows called out to her softly.
"Selene…"She froze and looked up slowly. Maybe it was just her father playing another joke on her. Smiling slightly, she called back, "Is that you, Papa?" in a slightly accusing tone.
"Yes, dear, it's Papa. Come here," replied the voice, which did not sound much like her father's. Then again, her father sometimes threw her voice to startle her, though it was all good-natured. She closed her book and rose, moving towards the voice and into the thick bushes.
"Papa?" she called uncertainly.
"I'm over here," answered the voice. Confused, Selene followed the voice. "Yes, that's it. Come near. Nearer still. Good girl, nearly there!" encouraged the voice, which sounded less and less like Dante's with every word it spoke. Suddenly a black shadow-like creature with blazing yellow eyes sprang at her from the shadows. She didn't even have time to scream before darkness clouded her vision.
When she awoke, it was from the searing pain in her right hand. So intense was it that she screamed. On and on she screamed, endlessly, dementedly, until the shadow-creature snapped at her, "Stop that noise before I cut the other one off!"
"Cut it off…?" she whispered stupidly. Terrified at what she was going to see, she looked slowly down at her right hand…and screamed again. Her middle finger was gone, cut clean off. She continued to scream, heedless of the monster's threats, until he struck her across the face.
"I told you to stop!" he roared. Selene whimpered, clutching her mutilated hand, breathing in small sobs far too short and fast. Suddenly, the pain receded. Her breathing slowed and her heart stopped pounding. A strange, cold calm descended upon her, coursing through her. A voice in her head spoke gently, "We can't just let him do this, can we? You're not just going to sit here and wallow in self-pity, are you? No, you're not, you're stronger than that."
"Yes," she whispered hoarsely. "I want to do something, but it hurts so badly!"
"I know, I know it hurts," agreed the voice soothingly. "But you can't let that stop you. Besides, it doesn't hurt so much anymore does it?"
"No," she said softly, not wanting to attract the shadow-monster's attention.
"Yes, you feel better now, don't you," said the voice. "I'll protect you. I'm here now, and I always will be now that I've awakened. Together, we can do anything."
"Anything…" echoed Selene. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She was filled with a fire now, a fire that demanded to be fed. A strange taste filled her mouth, a strange desire. She rose silently to her feet, glaring icily at the creature. Seeming to sense this, he turned to her.
"What's the matter with you?" he demanded. Selene didn't answer. Her vision slowly tinted red as her eyes began to burn with the most interesting sensation. The shadow stepped back in alarm. "By Mundus," he whispered. "No. No, this isn't supposed to be this way. You're not supposed to be Awakened!"
"Things change," said the voice through Selene's lips. She advanced on him.
When Dante and Trish arrived, having received a box containing Selene's finger and a note threatening to send her heart next if they didn't open the gate to the Underworld and surrender to Mundus, what they found was not a shadow-demon and their sweet, innocent child. They found a black, bloody mess and a raving, savage beast in the grip of uncontrollable demonic powers that grew and developed before their vessel. Selene had blood all over her, even on her mouth, and her eyes were glowing red. She turned when Dante and Trish came in. Instead of running to their arms, she screamed an inhuman scream of vengeance and lunged at Dante. He caught her in the air, hold the front of her dress as she shrieked in rage and struggled, biting, kicking, spitting at him, trying desperately to claw at his face.
"Selene! Selene, sweetie, it's me, it's Papa!" Dante said vainly. Selene only screamed again. "Selene, can't you hear me? I know you can. Please, it's Papa. Calm down." Selene, actually, could not hear anything Dante was saying. She was in the grip of her newly awakened powers and they were in full possession of her mind, drunk on their new freedom and strength, ready to rend and kill anything they could. Even Selene's own parents.
"Selene, I'm sorry about this," said Dante desperately, and he cuffed her sharply. She stopped screaming abruptly and looked at him in bewilderment. Looking around, she realized what had happened and commenced to sob. Dante held her close, pressing her face gently into his shoulder, whispering soothing things to her. All she could do was sob out apologies and a half-baked rendition of what had happened to her. Dante and Trish held her between them, trying to calm her, telling her it wasn't her fault. Selene could only half-hear them over her sobs. She cried and cried until she finally passed out on her father's shoulder.
When she awoke, she was in her own bed with a tourniquet on her hand. Her hand still hurt a little, but not nearly to the intensity it had before. Her parents sat nearby, waiting for her to wake. When they saw that she had, they smiled on her and reassured her that everything would be all right. But Selene knew better. After the events of that night, nothing could ever be the same.
Present day…One of the shadows moved suddenly on the vacant street. Selene smiled the mirthless smile of a hunting wolf; she had found her prey. The shadow-beast fled across the wall, concealing itself at times to wait and see if any passers-by were coming. There were none, save Selene. She had an especial hatred for shadow-demons, considering what had been done to her. She would show no mercy. The creature was becoming more and more at ease. A dangerous move, and one that would cost it it's life. It slowed to a walking pace, and Selene struck, quick as lightning. She threw her dagger expertly, pinning the shadow-demon to the wall. It screamed in pain and surprise, struggling to get free. It wouldn't be able to, Selene knew. The dagger was coated with a liquid form of ultraviolet radiation. Liquid sunlight. The ultimate weapon against a shadow. She closed in on the creature, wasting no time. The beast saw her and pleaded for it's life in vain, offering her dark secrets of hidden lands, secrets of the Underworld that no one knew, not even Mundus himself. Selene calmly shut these entreaties out of her mind and reached for the dagger.
"Speak to me, devil-bitch!" screeched the shadow-demon. "Why won't you even speak!" Selene didn't respond, simply, in one fluid movement, wrenched her dagger free and plunged it into the monster's heart, watching it writhe in death throes and disintegrate.
"I'll tell you why I wouldn't speak," she said quietly. "My philosophy is, and has been for some time, 'If you're going to kill someone, kill them. Don't stand there talking about it'. You could very well end up dead that way, you realize." Turning from the dusty remains of the demon, she went in search of it's Host. Shadow-demons must have a human Host to carry them as their shadow; otherwise they cannot exist in the human world. Rounding a corner, she nearly ran straight into a tall man with moon-white hair, dressed all in red.
"Good evening Father," she said.
"Hello Selene," Dante replied. "Where have you been?"
"Hunting," replied Selene distantly.
"Selene, you know your mother and I don't like you hunting alone," said Dante mildly. In truth, he was proud of his daughter's bravery and ruthlessness, though her stoicism saddened him. After the horrible incident when she was five, she had completely transformed. She insisted her father teach her the ways of the sword and the gun. She had her mother teach her hand-to-hand combat. She even created and perfected a few techniques herself. She had learned much very quickly, and far too young. But the past could not be undone. She seemed to carry heavy burdens that she refused to speak of. She often wandered aimlessly, deep in some private, rapt contemplation of who-knew-what. She took to deep meditation and constant training and sharpening of her skills. She was never satisfied with anything less than perfection. Often she would go into fits of rage and spend half the night working on some new technique until she was satisfied with it. But that was not the worst of it. She had never cried once since that night when she was five.
Dante sighed. "Well, at least you're alive. What was it this time?"
"Another shadow-demon. Quite inexperienced at that. His Host should be around somewhere, lying in the street feeling drunk and wondering why," replied Selene. "Care to join me?" Dante nodded, and they went off in search of the Host. When they found him, stumbling and cursing them heartily, Selene moved in first to make an end of him. No matter what he had been before, the shadow-demon's influence had poisoned his heart. All goodness and light had been purged from him. He would slit his own mother's throat for no reason at all. As Selene moved towards him, a shot rang out. She gave a start of surprise and turned around. Ebony was smoking in her father's hand, and the Host lay dead behind her.
"I was handling it," she said, annoyed.
"You've killed enough for one night," said Dante, holstering Ebony. "In fact, you've killed enough for one childhood. When's the last time you laughed without contempt or malice in your voice, but just plain happiness?"
"Happiness?" asked Selene. She paused. She actually had to think about the last time she had been happy. "Two weeks ago, I chased a Wall-Walker away from a group of little children. They were so frightened, but when I destroyed the creature, they all smiled at me, and hugged me, asking me to play with them. I said I preferred to watch them play. And I did. And I laughed with them as they played, feeling as though I were playing with them. I felt like a little child again. But I've forgotten the feeling."
"Maybe it's time you remembered," said Dante gently. "You're killing yourself with each demon you destroy. Stop hunting for a while. Rekindle your teenage years."
"I can't do that, Father," said Selene.
"Please try," insisted Dante gently.
"No, I mean I'm physically incapable of doing that," said Selene. "I have to keep fighting these creatures. There's something I'm meant to do; I can feel it. I've felt it every waking moment since the night I was Awakened. Every monster I vanquish brings me closer to that destiny. I have to keep following it. Only then may I possibly find peace."
Dante sighed again. "All right, I can see there's no two ways about this. But would you at least call me Papa once in a while?" Selene was startled. She couldn't remember addressing her father like that in years. She had no idea he wanted her to. Meeting his eyes, she saw a distinct sadness, and wondered how long it had been there and why she had never noticed it before. She didn't want him to be sad, she wanted him to be proud. She wanted him to look on her with pride and be able to boast of her skills and accomplishments. She wanted him to love her as he would have loved his son, had he had one. So she reached down into a place she didn't visit often, a trickle in her heart that had once been a great waterfall. Happiness. Summoning as much of it as she could muster, she managed at faint half-smile.
"I'll try to Fa…Papa."
Dante glowed at her. "Thank you." He slipped his arm about her shoulders. "Come on. Let's go home."