Beggars and Choosers
Central Park, New York City
September 13th, 20xx
It was unusually cold for so early in the fall. Pigeons, normally everywhere, where huddled against any available roof or vent to keep warm. The sky was overcast as it wept tears of ice, or so it seemed to the only person crazy enough to be outside in such depressing weather. Picking his way though the damp foliage, he made his way down the path, the half-decayed stick what he could not. Swathed in rotting bedsheets, a tattered blue rag covering his eyes, he felt his way through the Park aimlessly. A sound could be heard off in the distance, faint at first, but approaching rapidly. The young man threw himself blindly to one side, his head striking the curb as he landed. A huge Harley roared past, emptying a pothole of dirty, freezing water in the process. Its rider, a man in red, looked back at the beggar. "Watch where you're going, kid!" he yelled as he disappeared in the distance. Silently, the beggar found his feet again and stood, mindful of the liquid he felt on his face. Little did he know that he had left a mark on the concrete curbstone. A sticky smear of cobalt blue.
"Hey, where ya goin' kid?" He looked up at the sound, trying in vain to find the speaker. A blow to his gut knocked him to the ground. "Cough up the toll, little man. You in our territory." He heard a snap. 'Well there goes that stick,' he thought. He felt a huge hand close around his neck as his weight went from his knees to his spine. "Ya gotta have a licence ta mooch in this 'hood," came a considerably deeper voice. "Hey, lookit man. We gots us a blind dog." "Then lets teach it what we do to strays..." He felt the hand let go of his throat and drop him as the beating began.
No one in the five boroughs would ever forget the unholy sound that rent the air that afternoon.
In all her years of being on the Force, she had never seen anything so gruesome. And coming from Elisa Maza, that meant that some real shit had hit the fan. "Any idea what did...this?" she asked. The other officer shook his head, his eyes never leaving the scene. "No idea, detective." It looked like as scene out of Resident Evil, or something. Even still, at least those corpses were at least somewhat intact. "Victims' IDs?" "None as of yet. All we know so far is that they were all members of a local gang." "Gang?" Officer Morgan sighed and massaged his forehead. "The 'Midtown Devils'. Wanted for multiple counts of extortion, aggravated assault, drug possession and distribution, rape, murder, grand theft auto, and resisting arrest. Most of 'em have got rap sheets from here to Boston." "I've heard of them, but what could do this to some of New York's Worst?"
"So how many were there?" Elisa sighed. "A dozen, maybe. There wasn't really enough left to make a positive body count." Many of the gathered Manhattan Clan paled. "Where did this...massacre...take place?" asked Goliath, leader of the clan. His massive figure practically oozed his anxiety as he shifted his wings. "Trust me, you guys will know it when you see it."
As Elisa predicted, it didn't take too long to find the crime scene. It looked like half of the entire NYPD had converged on what used to be an abandoned apartment block. The Forensics division was all over the place, snapping photos, collecting samples, and the like. It may have been overkill, but it wasn't every day that you found someone that could turn a dozen or so guys into chunky paste. "So guys, any ideas?" The smallest Gargoyle suddenly spoke up. "You know I hate to say this, but maybe we should ask Fox about this." They all looked at each other. "I don't think we have much of a choice at this point Lex."
"Devil Never Cry, this is Trish speaking. How may I help you?" "Hey, it's me, Fox. Listen, is Dante around?" The blonde snorted, flicking a lock of silken gold out of her face. "Yeah, but if you want to speak to him, you might want to call back in a few hours." "Late night?" Trish chuckled. "Yeah. Something about nearly making roadkill out of some kid throwing his slice off, if you know what I mean." She could hear Fox giggle over the phone. "Yeah, that sounds like Dante. Well speaking of devil-hunting, I think I just found you guys a job..."
Author's Note: Well, there you have it. The Prologue and 1st chapter of Devil May Cry: Son of Hel. Just so you'd know, I don't own the copyright of any of the involved games, 'toons, and/or anime.