Clean Hatred
By: Luna Angel
Disclaimer: We don't own Devil May Cry. Sadly, we don't even own copies of the games, so, you know, pity us don't sue us. We own neither Dante, nor Vergil, nor do we claim to. We do own Adara, Liara, and any other characters we create.
Author's Note from Luna Angel: Okay, I realize this is incredibly short, but it is just the prologue. All the other chapters are longer, so don't worry about that. Because of the brevity of this first chapter, I also wrote Chapter One. After that, Sol and I basically trade off every chapter. Updates will be once a week after these first two chapters. And now, I think I've taken up enough of your time, so, on with the fic!
Prologue
Another agonized scream rang through the twilight, sounding more like the shriek of a dying animal than anything resembling sentient. Its resonant echoes sent a shiver of fear coursing a familiar route down the spines of the two huddled forms. The pair of children flinched at the sound and clutched one another tighter, pressing themselves into the dark nook they had seized as shelter.
One of the forms let out a whimper as the scream rent the air again, and was quickly shushed by the other. "Hush," she hissed lowly in her sister's ear. "Mother told us to be silent."
The whimpering disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, but neither girl stopped shaking.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting, the screams cut off, leaving an eerie silence that was almost worse than the noise. The silence stretched, with the girls unwilling to move for fear they would be caught.
Heavy footsteps echoed above their heads and they stiffened, their fingers flexing involuntarily as their muscles tightened under the tension. The footsteps grew mildly fainter, but soon increased in volume, accompanied by the creaking of the wooden stairs leading down to the basement. As the steps approached their hiding space without pausing, one of the girls let out a low whine, jerking upright and pushing herself away from her sister suddenly. She shook violently, shudders racking her body even as her eyes slammed shut and her hands curled into fists.
A weary voice cut through the tense atmosphere with the ease of a hot knife through soft butter, leaving the girls sagging with relief. "Come, children, we need to leave quickly." Their mother's voice was familiar and safe, even edged as it was with sorrow, and they hastened to obey the command, scrambling out of the fireplace and brushing soot off their dresses as they followed her rapid steps out of the dusky room and through their childhood home, not even questioning when she led them out onto the dark street.
They took the hands she offered, following her even as she took them down dark alleyways and further away from the only place they knew.