The Devils Cry Ch 1-7

[eiahmon]

Title: The Devils Cry Chapter 7
Category: Devil May Cry
Rating: PG-13
Devil May Cry and it’s characters and situations are the sole property of Capcom. I am making no money or profit off of this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended. On the other hand all original characters and situations are mine so please don’t run off with them without my knowledge or consent.
Summary: A daughter’s dreams of a place that Dante doesn’t want to remember make him recall things that he had once tried so hard to forget as the skeletons in the Sparda family closet come out to play. Lost family history is revealed, and people once thought long gone return.
SPOILER WARNING!!!: Spoilers for all three Devil May Cry games.

7.

He clamped down on his bottom lip to keep from screaming as Mundus picked him up and threw him across the room, sending him slamming into the fleshy wall. Bones broke and arteries were crushed as the impact knocked the wind from his lungs. He stuck to the wall for a second, splayed out like he was being crucified, then he slowly slid down to the floor, gasping for air. Bloody froth flecked his lips and dripped to the floor as he struggled to take a breath. His world began to gray out again, but Mundus came forward and hauled him up by the hair, and the pain of his jostled broken bones jolted him back to full consciousness.

“Oh no, my servant,” Mundus growled “You can’t go yet. I am not finished with you.”

“I am not your servant, Mundus.” Vergil growled, spitting bloody saliva in the Dark Emperor’s face “I never have been.” Mundus smashed his fist into the defiant face of the half demon in front of him, sending him reeling backwards to collapse on the floor, unconscious.

“Bolverk!!” Mundus roared, enraged that his whipping post was no longer conscious and couldn’t feel any more pain until he came around. Rithas Bolverk, who had been waiting outside the room, quickly came in, not wanting his Master’s wrath to be transferred to him.

“Yes, Master?”

“I’m pushing my plans ahead.” Mundus stated, not looking at him, staring instead at the unconscious Vergil. “Summon Luxian to me.”

******

Dante looked through the half open door at his son - well, his adopted son, if he must admit it - as the young man bent low over the book open on the desk in front of him. Vergil, trying to keep his mind off things, had spent the last few days painstakingly translating his grandfather’s book, grumbling to himself about difficult languages that he did not have enough experience in. He knew the ancient demonic language well enough to translate it, but it was slow going.

“Find anything?” Dante asked as he walked past and sat down in his high backed chair behind the desk. His red trenchcoat settled down with a quiet rustle.

“Yeah, from what I can gather, Grandpa used this book to record his successful hunts and kills, what they were, where they came from, and what mission, if any, that they had.”

“Really?”

“Not only that, he also recorded locations of Hell Gates and whether he was able to close them are not. On all of them, he described the location, and drew a map of the general area. If the landscape changed or towns appeared or disappeared nearby, he added that too.”

“Interesting.”

“I’ve only gone a few pages in. This book is well over a thousand pages long, so it may take me awhile.”

“Try to hurry. I have a feeling that we may need all the information we can get.”

“Right - O.”

Dante glanced over at Vergil, leaning so close to the old pages of the book that his nose was nearly touching them. He had been holding up remarkably well, despite the circumstances, though at least twice before, Dante had heard him crying into his pillow at night. When he had gotten up to check on him, he had felt another aura around him. This one was clean instead of corrupting, calm and comforting instead of malevolent, and Vergil’s cries would quiet within seconds of it appearing. It seems like Dante’s brother was still around, watching over his son. Though he had to wonder about him being there to begin with.

If Dante had to be honest with himself, which he didn’t like doing on matters like this, then he had to admit that his brother must be alive somewhere. As to how he was still alive, Dante had no idea. He had seen Vergil die, consumed in blue fire, in the throne room at Mallet Island. And then there was the matter of the amulet, dropped after his “death”. Vergil would never have willingly let go of his half, not with it being such a powerful reminder of their mother, and what they had lost that night.

That night....

That night?

Dante abruptly sat up, oblivious to Vergil’s confused glance. Seeing that no answer was forthcoming, the younger man shrugged and returned to his study of the book. Dante rested his elbows on the dark wood of the desktop and hid his face in his hands. That night.... the night his mother had been murdered and his twin had been taken from him. That night was a confused blur in his memory in his mind; all he could recall were his screams, his mother’s desperate pleas to spare her children, evil laughter, and a vague picture of a tall man with white hair to a little past his shoulders and eyes the color and temperature of artic ice. And.... that was all. He sighed in frustration. Why couldn’t he remember? Granted, he could also recall the terror and the grief that followed afterward, but no more images, no more sounds. In fact it would be over a month later, at Rachel’s place, when his memories would become clear again. He let his head sink to the desktop, making a soft thud! that reverberated throughout the wood paneled room.

Vergil looked up from the book again. “Are you having fun?” he asked.

“Loads.” came Dante’s mumbled reply. Vergil chuckled. Alastair appeared through the door to the small kitchen, where she had been fixing a snack.

“Did I just hear the telltale sign of Dad’s head hitting the desk?” she asked as she sat down, a sandwich and a pop in her hands.

“You heard right.” Vergil replied, turning back to the book.

“Ah, okay, that’s normal.” Alastair took a bite into her sandwich.

“You two are so supporting.” Dante mumbled

“Of course we are.” Vergil and Alastair replied simultaneously. Dante groaned, causing them to chuckle at him.

Casting his thoughts back to what he was thinking of before his head had hit the desk, he began to think about his parents. Now that he thought about it, he really couldn’t remember much of anything from when he was a child either. His head came off the desk, his expression thoughtful. Now he could understand why he couldn’t remember the night his mother had been murdered - an event as traumatizing as that would blur anyone’s memories - but why could he barely remember anything before that? There was no reason to forget his childhood. He knew that he had been happy and loved by his brother and parents. He knew it with a certainty that he could not explain. So what reason could make him forget everything. Leaning back in his chair, he tried to list what he COULD remember.

His father had been a demon, and his mother had been a human, obviously. He and Vergil had been twins, and when they were twelve, Sparda had gone out demon hunting and had not returned. Three years later, demons had attacked their house, killing Eva Sparda and kidnapping Vergil. And then Dante had gone to live with Rachel. And... that was all.

Why was there no more? Why couldn’t he remember anything else? He frowned, thinking hard, trying to remember more.

“Don’t try too hard, Dad.” Vergil said without looking up “Otherwise, you might blow a cog.” Dante didn’t dignify that with an answer.

“What are you thinking about?” Alastair asked.

“Of when I was a kid.” he replied.

“Anything interesting?”

“No, and that is what bothers me.”

Vergil finally looked up from the heavy tome in front of him. “Why is that?”

“Because I can’t remember anything.”

“Seems like everything bothers you here lately, Dad.” Alastair said with a rueful smile.
Dante nodded. “Too true, but this really bothers me. I can’t remember my childhood really at all other than the basics.”

“That is weird.” Alastair said. Vergil nodded in agreement.

“So any particular reason why you can’t remember?” he asked.

“I’m really not sure. I can’t remember really anything of those days.”

“Hmmmm,” Alastair looked thoughtful. “People don’t just forget things for no reason. Something had to have made you forget.”

“Was that night so bad that you forgot everything before?” Vergil wondered out loud.

‘Probably so.” Dante shrugged. “If I could remember, I would tell you.” They lapsed into silence, and Vergil returned to his book, while Alastair returned to her food.

But Alastair wasn’t really tasting her sandwich. She was thinking about what her Dad just said. That certainly would explain why he never spoke of his childhood and parents - he couldn’t remember them. She glanced over at Vergil just as he raised his head from the book, and their eyes met for a second in silent communication. By some unspoken signal, they both rose from their chairs and walked back into the small kitchen, the only part of the warehouse other than the front office that they still used.

“His guard is down.” Alastair pointed out as soon as the door shut behind them “This is bad.”

Vergil nodded in agreement. “I just want to know why he forgot everything. Yes, seeing your mother brutally murdered would make you forget that particular event, maybe even a few days before and after, but not the previous fifteen years. Humans usually don’t remember their early childhood once they reach adulthood, but demons have longer memories. He should be able to remember something.”

“Then why can’t you remember anything of your first three years?”

Vergil shuddered. “Because I choose not to.”

“Well then, maybe Dad doesn’t want to remember.”

“But why would he forget? The night our grandmother was murdered, yes, I can see that, but why everything before? His childhood couldn’t have been that bad, could it? From all of the accounts that I’ve read, Grandpa Sparda was a very kind man.” Vergil shook his head, causing his pony tail to swing back and forth slightly. “I can’t see him being anything but loving to his children.”

Alastair nodded.

Vergil leaned back against the wall, feeling around for his father’s presence. He was there, but he was faint, distracted, making his namesake sincerely hope that his distraction was a good one, though he doubted it. He wished that he could see him in a dream again and talk to him. Maybe he could tell about some of the things that Dante had forgotten.

“You alright?” Alastair’s voice brought Vergil back to reality. He shook his head and straightened himself.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” he replied “Just thinking.”

“You’re getting as bad as Dad.” she said, slapping him playfully on the arm. He growled at her. “You could blow a cog just as easy as he can, if you’re not careful.” She smiled sweetly at him, making him roll his eyes in exasperation.

“C’mon,” he said “Let’s get back out there. The way he is right now, Mundus could walk right in and Dad would never see him.” He felt a small prickle of fear at the Dark Emperor’s name, though he couldn’t say why. All he knew of Mundus was what his dad had told him. Just another mystery added to their already long list. Alastair snorted and went towards the door.

Alastair was ahead of him and had her hand on the knob, when she abruptly froze. He stopped immediately, and they looked at each other, the hairs on their arms and necks standing erect at the strong demonic aura that was enveloping the warehouse that sheltered Devil May Cry.

“Alastair!” came Dante’s voice “Vergil! Get out here! We’ve got company!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Alastair said, her eyes glowing red with the anticipation of a fight. She gleefully kicked the door open and ran out into the office. Blowing out his breath at his sister’s antics, Vergil drew the Yamato and followed at a more sedate pace.

The office was packed, filled to near bursting with lesser demons of all kinds, and more were coming in through the broken down front doors. Vergil sneered at them, bringing his sword up and summoning the Beowulf gauntlets. Just in front of him, Alastair summoned Alastor to her and brought up the Ifrit gauntlets. Dante, still sitting calmly behind his desk, casually swung the Sparda in a small arc.

“Well, kids,” he said casually “Shall we get down to business?”

“Yesssss,” Alastair hissed “Let’s.” Vergil grinned and nodded.

With a whoop, Dante vaulted out of his chair and over his desk, bringing the Sparda smashing down on the mask of a Sin Scythe, destroying it with a single blow. With a clang of their swords, Vergil and Alastair jumped into the fray, and Alastair started a running commentary like she was so fond of doing in large battles.

“And the first kill of the evening goes to Dante, with that spectacular one hit kill of a Sin Scythe!” She parried a swing from a Hell Vanguard. “And Alastair gets into it with the Scythe’s big brother, a Hell Vanguard! That’s right folks, only a minute into the fight, and we already have some serious action!”

Vergil was by the door, taking on three large Blades at once, grinning like a maniac at their futile attempts to get close to him. He performed a stinger against one, shattering its armor and shield, leaving it vulnerable to the bullets from Tiamat and Bahumet. Jumping back into the corner so he couldn’t be surrounded, he pulled out his guns and opened fire, spraying the unarmored Blade with demonic lead. And as always, he kept one ear on Alastair’s commentary.

“And Vergil takes on three Blades at once. He’s either very brave, or very stupid, folks. And oh! Dante gets slashed by a Goatling, but the action continues as Vergil opens fire on one of the Blades, reducing it to a dust pile!”

Dante ignored the wound inflicted by the claws of the Goatling. Already, he could feel it healing, though he was more annoyed by the damage to his red leather coat. Didn’t these damn things know how EXPENSIVE red leather is? Extending the Sparda into it’s axe form, he wound up, and slung the blade at the Goatling, cutting it in half. The sword returned to his hand, and he could feel the excitement over the fight coming from his father’s essence inside. Pulling out Ebony, he charged up a shot and shot and destroyed a Lust that had been sneaking up on Alastair.

“Oh, and Dante saves Alastair’s hide with another one hit kill!” Alastair kept up her commentary as she rolled under the swinging blade of the Vanguard and slashed it from behind with the Alastor, causing it to collapse to the ground and dissipate. “Alastair sends a hearty thank you to Dante as she finishes off the Vanguard and moves on to a Damned Pawn that just decided to show up!” The Pawn’s twin blades glowed red for a moment and she air hiked out of reach as they were slashed downward where she had been standing. “And the Pawn tries to hit her, but it can’t touch her as she jumps out of the way!”

Vergil, fighting the last Blade, performed an upward swing with the Yamato, knocking the helpless creature into the air. Quickly sheathing the sword and pulling his guns back out, he began to juggle it in mid-air, sending out a Beowulf clad leg to kick away a lone Misha that had gotten too close for comfort. It skittered across the floor, knocking a couple of Nobodies off of their feet and slamming into the opposite wall. Letting the Blade fall back down, he drew Yamato again and darted forward, slashing the sword in a horizontal arc, cutting the Blade in half.

Scum. echoed the elder Vergil’s voice. Ignoring the fact that he had just heard his father’s voice outside of a dream, but feeling a surge of happiness that his presence had returned, the younger Vergil started for the Nobodies that were just now getting back to their feet.

“And Vergil takes down the last Blade with a spectacular move, slicing it in half! And he moves onto the Nobodies along the far wall!”

Dante was in the center of a knot of Lusts, Prides, Greeds, and a few Abysses. He kept them at bay for a bit with Twosome Time and Fireworks, before deciding that enough was enough and breaking into a move that he had only performed a handful of times since he had perfected it inside the Temen-ni-gru. Darting forward with a shouted “Are you ready?”, he drew Sparda and performed a crazy series of rapid fire slashes know collectively as the Crazy Dance. Swinging the blade around his body, he launched into a Million Stab attack before moving into the next part of the combo. Planting the blade into the wooden floor, wincing as he did so, (He was going to have to replace the floorboards yet again.) he grabbed onto it and began spinning around it, kicking nearby enemies in what he had named the Dance Macabre. Landing back on his feet, he pulled the sword from the floor, spun around too fast to be seen, and ended with a powerful swipe that knocked the few surviving enemies away with a smug “Down and out.”.

Alastair jumped into the air and brought her gauntleted fist slamming down onto the floor, causing the area around her to erupt into flames, destroying many of the weaker demons in the immediate vicinity. “Dante performs an excellent series of moves that Alastair is determined to learn one day, killing at least a dozen demons in a single combo! And Alastair causes the center of the floor to erupt into flames with an Inferno attack, sending several nasties right back to their master! He is not going to be happy with them!”

Along the far wall, where most of Dante’s hunting trophies were mounted, Vergil was also indulging in some hand to hand combat. The Beowulf gauntlets and greaves were glowing with their strange light as he kicked and punched his way through the throng. Spinning around, he brought his left leg up and began kicking furiously at the Nobody in front of him, before launching into a flurry of punches and ending with a powerful downward punch, sending the now dead creature to explode in the opposite corner with a low “Sweet dreams.”

“Hey, that’s my move!” Dante shouted from over by the desk. “And my line!” Alastair laughed, taking up her commentary once more.

“Dante is indignant at a series of powerful moves performed by Vergil that knocked a Nobody clean out of existence! There will be a day of reckoning later between those two! And -” A sliver of light thrown by an Enigma stabbed her in the back, cutting off whatever she had planned to say next. Aggravated, she spun around and delivered a flaming roundhouse kick to the small group of Enigmas in front of her, knocking them back to the floor before drawing Alastor and finishing them off with a Million Stab attack of her own. “And Alastair takes down three Enigmas, clearing the room and ending the fight! That’s all for now, goodnight everybody!”

Suddenly lacking demons to fight, the three paused for a bit and then put their weapons away, The office, enveloped in silence that was in sharp contrast to the noise of the fight, was filled with floating sand particles and gun smoke.

“So what’s the tally?” Dante asked in the sudden silence, leaning on the hilt of the Sparda.

“Ummm, let me count.” Alastair said as she took on a thoughtful look. “You killed three Abysses, seven Lusts, four Prides, two Greeds, one Sin Scythe, and a Goatling. And you took one hit. Vergil killed three Blades, four Nobodies, and one Misha and took no hits. I killed a Hell Vanguard, a Damned Pawn, three Enigmas, two Damned Knights, two Envies, and three Sloths, and took one hit. That is where we stand.”

“Tally up the points.” Dante said dismissively “Vergil, help me survey the damage.” Vergil took one quick glance around.

“I think it’s time to remodel again.” he said matter-of-factly. Dante had to agree with him. Bullet holes littered the wood paneled walls, and the wooden floor was splintered in several places. Blood, sand, and miscellaneous body fluids from the dead Nobodies coated the walls, floors, and ceiling. Heavily acidic, the disgusting stuff had already eaten holes in everything it touched. Chairs were in shattered pieces, and the pool table was completely wrecked. Dante added it to his mental count of pool tables that he had gone through since he had opened Devil May Cry.

“Hey,” Vergil announced “You’re desk survived this time around.”

“That’s a first.” With a swift kick, Dante righted the high backed chair, which by some miracle had also survived, and flopped down. Vergil seated himself on the corner of the desk - his chair was a pile of splintered wood that had been dissolved in places by the splatter of the Nobodies’ body fluids. Alastair’s chair had survived mostly intact, and it precariously supported her weight as she added up everyone’s points. Their point system was based on each demon’s strength, weaponry, tenacity, and difficulty in landing a hit on them. Each creature had a point value between one and ten, and the whole system had been started as a bit of a joke, five or six years ago. The loser had to buy a meal, chosen by the winner, for everyone.

The results were:

Dante:

Total kills: 18

1 Sin Scythe = 3 points

1 Goatling = 5 points

7 Lusts = 7 points each

4 Prides = 1 point each

2 Greeds = 8 points each

3 Abysses = 6 points each

Damage taken:

1 hit = 5 points taken

Total Points = 90

Vergil glanced over at the paper that Alastair was doing the figures on. He snorted. “So Dad, what do you want for supper?” Dante smirked, but didn’t say anything.

Alastair:

Total kills: 12

1 Hell Vanguard = 7 points

1 Damned Pawn = 3 points

2 Damned Knights = 5 points each

3 Sloths = 3 points each

2 Envies = 4 points each

3 Enigmas = 6 points each

Damage taken:

1 hit = 5 points taken

Total Points = 50

Vergil smirked. “I think you lost, Alastair.”

“Oh shut up. I haven’t added up your score yet, you know. I might just decide to do some ‘fuzzy math’.”

Vergil:

Total kills: 8

Alastair looked up at Vergil. “Looks like YOU lost little brother.” she said with a self satisfied smirk. “Guess you’re buying tonight.” She then turned to adding up his points, confident that she wouldn’t have to shell out any cash.

1 Misha = 1 point

3 Blades = 8 points each

4 Nobodies = 10 points each

Damage taken:

0 hits = 0 points taken

Total Points = 65

Vergil erupted into laughter as Alastair looked at the paper in shock.

“What!!” she shrieked “That can’t be right! Let me do that again!” Dante laughed and snatched the paper out of her hand before she could begin hunting for the calculator. He quickly double checked the math then handed it back to her, smirking again.

“I would like some Chinese tonight, Alastair.” he said calmly “The All You Can Eat Buffet, if you would be so kind.”

“But Dad, that’s fifteen bucks a person!”

He grinned at her. “I know.”

Alastair grumbled and snarled for a few moments before giving in with a huff. “Alright fine. But the next time, I’m stomping both of you!”

“Sure Alastair,” Vergil said smugly, straightening his coat and retying his pony tail “Whatever you say.”

Alastair growled at him.

“In the meantime,” Dante interrupted, getting up from his chair “Let’s try to clean up some of this mess.” Getting to their feet, just in time in Alastair’s case as her chair collapsed once her weight was off of it, the three proceeded to gather up the broken bits of furniture, sweep up the remains, and put the doors back on their hinges. Grabbing a wrench and a fire hose, Vergil went outside and hooked it up to the nearby fire hydrant, and hosed what was left of the Nobodies from the floor and walls. He didn’t bother with the ceiling - it was beyond saving.

“Alright,” Dante said when they were done. “Vergil, get the book. We’ll take it home and put it away. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go eat.” Alastair groaned. Vergil smirked again and went over to where the book had been sitting on his dad’s desk when the fight had began.

It wasn’t there.

“Dad?” he called “Did you move it?” Dante’s head shot up.

“No, did you?”

“I left it right here. I know I did.” Dante and Alastair came over to him.

“It’s gotta be around here somewhere.” Alastair said “Let’s look for it.”

The three of them fanned out, searching the office, inside the desk, in the piles of trash. Vergil had even gone out into the street to see if it had been washed out there by the firehose, and he had not seen it.

“Well, you know what that means.” Dante said when it was clear to them that the book was no longer with them. “Those demons came here with the intent to get the book.”

“What the hell would they need it for?” Alastair wondered. “It’s just a book, not like it shows the way to Hell or something.”

“But it does.” Vergil pointed out, his arms crossed over his chest, showing his anger over the book’s loss. “It has the location of every Hell Gate that Grandpa Sparda ever found, plus whether he was able to close them or not. Whoever has that book has a wide range of choices on what gate to Hell to open.”

“Oh dear.” Alastair said heavily, flopping down to the floor.

“Oh dear is right.”

“Who would want it?”

“Mundus.” Dante said shortly, his face darkening at the thought of the devil responsible for the murder of his mother, the corruption of his brother, and most likely, the disappearance of his father, and who was lurking somewhere in the back of his adopted son's mind.

“Mundus?” Vergil and Alastair said at the same time, whipping their heads around to look at him. Vergil felt a prickle of fear again again at the mention of Mundus’ name, a prickle that was mirrored by his father.

“But what could he possibly gain from it?” Alastair asked.

“He can’t gain anything from it.” Vergil replied “As the Lord of the Underworld, he would know about all of the Hell Gates. There is something that he doesn’t want us to find in there.” Dante nodded.

“Most likely.” he said quietly. Memories of Mallet Island were swirling around him again, trying to drown him in a myriad of emotions. He closed his eyes, trying to hold them back.

“You alright, Dad?” Alastair asked, suddenly concerned. He didn’t answer.

“Dad?” Vergil stood up from where he was leaning against the desk. “Dad?!” Dante blinked and shook his head.

“Sorry, what is it?”

“You spaced out on us for a moment there.”

‘Oh, sorry, thinking of Mallet.”

Alastair and Vergil looked at each other.

“Dad,” Alastair said “I think we need to sit down and have a talk.”

“Why would we?” he growled, guessing where this was going.

“Because you have to tell us about Mallet. You’ve been keeping us in the dark for far too long about this. I think it’s time to come clean.”

“We need to know about the Temen-ni-gru too.” Vergil said quietly.

“No!” Dante jumped to his feet, a fierce glint in his eyes. “No way, no how, am I telling you about the Temen-ni-gru! Mallet, maybe, but not the Temen-ni-gru!”

“Yes, you are.” Vergil said firmly.

“Why in the hell would you want to know about that anyway?”

“Because my father was there. Because he was lost there.”

Vergil’s quiet statement killed any retorts that Dante might have had. He was quiet for a second, then he hung his head and sighed.

“You’re right, I suppose. If anyone would have the right to ask me about that, then I guess it would be you.” Alastair and Vergil looked at each other again, neither one of them could every recall Dante looking so defeated before.

“Let’s go home.” Dante continued “We can get cleaned up and I guess we can just order out tonight. Then I’ll tell you both about Temen-ni-gru.” He sighed again. “Let’s go.”

Dante walked quietly out of Devil May Cry, Without a word, Alastair and Vergil followed him.