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The Chosen One Unknown	By : Britt_601 Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3033 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the DMC series nor is any money being made off of this.

Chapter List
- 1
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The Story: This little piece of fiction has an OC in it as well as Vergil...and Dante...and small appearances from the other cast of the DMC series. And other OC's as well. So please, if you are the type to hate every OC in the existence of writing, use the back button to find another story. Thank you.
Story Tidbits: OC name pronunciation: Mah-so-zi
A subscript is in the story and its definition will be in the author's notes.
This is originally Chapter 1, but it was too big so it was split into two.
Stats: Beta-Lohce Azcry. 7 ½ pages hand-written/10 pages typed.
Final Word: Get ya' readin' on!

Late Night Escort
Four minutes passed since she grabbed her purse and coat, 9:01 showing on the clock walking towards the door. Halima disliked leaving an hour later after her; Matthew saying something about "balancing the schedules" with their limited staff. As a result, Maisha frequented in calling the woman half past ten every night, more of a means to make sure she traveled home safely.
Bizarre cases of murder had infiltrated the region, encouraging a frantic atmosphere amongst the citizens. Well, this section of town dabbled in murders but they veered closer to her community.
Her neighborhood could stand a few city upgrades. Like streetlamps. Streetlamps would be a significant improvement to that dark abyss that was her street. When an opportunity arose to move to a better location she promised to jump at the chance to do so. But the duplex she lived in had an affordable rent plan...
Her arms slipped into the white jacket, holding it tighter after the temperature dropped twenty degrees from earlier. The rain pounded the ground with its relentless shower, spraying onto the sidewalk in a frenzied splatter.
She drove a 2006 Lexus RX, sitting at the back of the lot because the manager complained the front spaces belonged to the customers. As if they scrambled to flood to this area to shop here and like he actually gave a shit where they parked.
Espresso-hued eyes strained to see clearly, heavy sheets of rainfall dimming the lights of the street lamp. A few cars populated the car park, businesses surrounding the parking structure had closed early for the evening. The human species deserted this location, leaving the hefty drumming of rain drops for company.
In this onslaught her cheap boots would soak through to her socks, the puddles too deep to avoid and her truck too far for the inside of her feet to remain dry. Her hoodie found residence on top of her head, surveying the area to see the safest way to proceed.
Three figures in colorless clothing stood by the baskets. At first glance she thought they were her male co-workers but they wouldn't take a break so close to getting off of work. Scents of an herbal essence swirled in the atmosphere. Maisha covered her nose, the smell enveloped her in a nauseated state, bringing forth the trance of a delirious nature.
The group chatted amongst themselves until their attention spanned in her direction, words becoming lower and fainter until it stopped. There was no need for alarm though, they were probably under-aged brats sneaking out to hit that kush[1] late at night, in the cold, out in the rain... with nobody else around.
Perhaps they waited on someone under the building's shelter to let the rain die down prior to trotting home. Whatever the case, she felt fine with them being there as long as they didn't bother her before, during, or after she got to her car. But why did they stop talking when they saw her?
She turned to face them, briefly observing that all three were fair-skinned, paled beyond reason thanks to the frosted air stealing the warmth of their blood. What began as a quick glance deviated into a staring contest. Maisha's nerves ignited on fire, nails digging into her palm to suppress her shaking at their leers.
Under the yellow overhead lights the males appeared much older, two of them with mustaches and one with a goatee. Her earlier thoughts seemed invalid; these men carried a questionable presence and it made her eager to leave their sight. Nothing to fret over, but killings frequented the radius of her residence and she could never be too careful.
Withdrawing her car keys from the coat pocket she clicked the container of pepper spray open, thinking to gauge their intentions and see her available exits to escape, if the situation shifted to a grim ending.
She started moving at a brisk pace to the left, removing her hood to listen to the rhythmic slush steps of someone walking.
Shortly thereafter, she heard the footsteps.
Three distinct steps melded together in uneven movement, each step taken accompanied by the wet grains on the ground. Shoes scratched the cemented surface, collectively crunching the dirt particles closer into the sidewalk.
Shit! Her plan had been to walk to the left to see what they might do, then turn out onto the parking lot and run to her car. The woman didn't expect them to tail after her and their strides sounded adequate to catch up to her. Or maybe she over thought it, they may have moved to go into the store.
Maisha looked into the black, reflective glass of the market window, seeing the males pass the store entrance and trail in her direction.
A cold tingle soared down her spine, breath catching in her lungs prior to a sharp exhale forcing its way out. The cloud full of white smoke swirled behind to drift away in the wind. Her right hand unconsciously came up to cradle her heart; the muscle felt to jump the pulses per minute to somewhere in the upper hundreds. Palms began to sweat while brown eyes searched for an escape route.
On dark nights she would wait in the doughnut shop until the owner could watch her on her departure. Police calls were pointless in this part of town. An individual survived on luck if the patrol system arrived in the response time of twenty minutes. Turning back now would make no sense unless she wanted to ask them the reason they followed her.
If their plans involved harming her, she could bump into a vehicle to set off the alarm. Someone would come out and help her in her desolate situation, right?
Her outcome looked bleak. To the front of her a dead end, to the side an open landscape to be captured and the back held those three. So little choices to execute a limited evacuation.
She passed by the last column of the store, leaving the safety of the sidewalk in preparation to sprint to her truck. Another shadowy figure came into her view, leaning against a hot red muscle car, looking straight out into the nearly pitch black distance. Was this planned? The men practically herded her in this direction with the getaway car prepared to go.
"Well now, looks like you are in a hurry to get home."
Hey, I know that... Hold on a minute, is he still here? She recognized those vocal cords, remembering the deep timbre not too long ago. Yeah, that awfully handsome guy, Dante was his name.
Relief washed over her being like a calm flood, but dried up as the fear returned, wondering his reason for being out here this time of night.
Dante turned to face her, wearing a black beanie, and proceeded with his tactful fixation of her. A moment later he looked over her head, Maisha copying the action to see how soon her pepper spray would have to be used. Behind her left an empty scene, devoid of the three goons following her.
Did they... stop in the back of the pillar and wait for an attack or were they not with Dante? She would have heard them run off scared, the noises of the wet, grainy ground too loud to sneak off of quietly.
"You walkin' in this weather?" he asked, voice growing louder to speak over the abrupt thunder rumbling in the sky.
"No, uh, I came over this—my car is way over... over there."
Dante placed his right elbow on top of his hood, lacing his fingers behind his head. Those questionable assholes spooked the girl silly, thinking it mighty chivalrous of himself to watch her a little longer.
When he first ventured outside the store there wasn't a living soul standing around in the dank weather. By some force of trickery, a common familiarity in his line of work, did these perplexing men appear without noise.
Intrigued, he surveyed the group to inspect what these individuals planned to do. It was senseless to be out in this damp chilliness for leisure. Their presence seemed off, though he couldn't place the reason for his intuition.
The feisty elderly woman came out first; the two men tagging along with her left to put the groceries in her dented Cadillac. In their absence she searched inside her purse, tiny widgets falling out to swirl in the breeze, seeming oblivious to the things slipping out of her mobile locker.
A five dollar bill blew his way (to which he happily pocketed) but she bent with a swiftness even more surprising, to pick up her pink-colored lipstick. In the process of her helpers being preoccupied, this vulnerable act should prompt immediate action from the males, but they ignored her.
Three minutes later brought about a similar scenario. Maisha stood outside on her lonesome, noticing the men then trying to test what they intended to do. An unarmed dame like her would fall prey easy. However an old lady, much more shorter and fragile than she, would have gone down twice as easily.
It may have been the beauty factor. Maisha's facial characteristics wove together to make her a pretty little thing, a curvy one at that, and it might be hard not to stare at her unique portrait. To do what with those features... Dante didn't want to know.
Unless if he had a shot at her.
"Where's your car?" he asked.
"In the back."
Dante frowned, lines forming between his eyebrows. "… of this lot? Why would you park way over―"
Maisha shrugged, eyes rolling for Matthew’s excuse. "My boss is a dumbass. Complains that customers don't have access to quick shopping if we all take the closest parking available."
"Uh-huh. And when is this place packed?"
"On the first of every month and on holidays."
"Today's the ninth.
"Yeah well, tell him that."
The woman stood unsure of her next move, shifting from foot to foot. The rain came down in powerful waves, drowning out amplified sounds even to the easy of hearing.
It will mean so much to her if he walked her at least halfway to her truck, maybe watch her to make sure she safely got in. She had no idea if those men were behind the column or headed into the store.
Perhaps pulled a Houdini.
"Need a lift to your car?"
Dear Heavens yes! "Uh, um I would..."
He sensed her trepidation, nervousness fleeting throughout her form because she didn't know how to respond. She probably assumed he affiliated himself with those hooligans or had reservations about hopping into the car with a complete outsider. Both are valid precautions though he was on a time constraint and he needed to get back home.
He and cold weather weren't the best of friends so walking her in this weather―nope, out of the question. Watching her speed walk to her vehicle or stay to see if the thing started wasn't on his agenda either.
"Come on, I'll give you a lift over there to save you the trouble."
Brown-sugared eyes focused upon him, pleading to him her need to safely get to her truck but wanting another solution not involving hopping into a stranger's car. Granted he did seem like a genuine guy, but those were usually the sociopaths. She might feel much more comfortable if he could follow her movements until she reached her transportation.
"If I wait for you to reach your ride, I won't be able to rescue you from those three dudes in time. At least not without pulling out a weapon."
That didn't help convince her on the matter.
This guy carried a weapon? Sure people packed heat (and who wouldn't in this town), but he didn't have to tell her. And what would happen if she got in the car? Pull out his gun and signal the other three to move closer? What if he wanted to kill her instead? Inasmuch, how long did he wait out here to observe those guys?
She sighed, biting her lips to escape an impulse judgment. She saw the shows. Dozens of women getting "help" from these strangers in unknown places and they went missing. Often sometimes raped and killed because they were helpless to begin with. Yet she had her pepper spray as her defense mechanism.
Knowing this brought a small sense of relief, but she needed more convincing, on his part, to drive her over there. Still, that niggling sensation scratching her skull said that this man, this Dante was too good to be true. What spurred this feeling on endured his knowledge of, she hoped, what those men were up to and the claim to have a weapon.
Damn it, why was this so hard of a decision to make?
If he had any foul advances towards her she could always hop out of his ride and phone Halima for help.
Halima.
A pinched expression lingered briefly on her face. Why didn't she head back inside and tell her friend to watch her walk to her truck?
The smart thing clung to thank her once-customer for his offer and dial Halima instead. But what of those three men? What if Dante drove off and they attacked her before Hal met her? What if the woman didn't answer her phone or turned it off? The risks weighed too great to ignore if she waited, but the sooner she left the better. Honestly, her options disintegrated.
With slow steps she moved to the passenger's side, Dante already opening his side to awaken the engine. Her mind kept chanting the word 'stupid', berating her for her lack of common sense, opting to go with this man. Her life lingered into the hands of this foreign stranger and there was no definite foreshadowing of him keeping true to his promise.
With the hhandle to the COPO Camaro grasped to push the knob in, the door opened outwards, her left leg stepping inside the car. Her heart drummed in her rib cage, knowing this presented her final opportunity to turn around and secure her life.
Taking care of herself built an ingrained habit over the years, minding her own business to ensure her eyelids opened the next day. Pride reposed a concept she knew when to ditch and when to preserve, when to bend to it and when to stand against it. And in this instance she all but ignored it.
She climbed into the seat, joining her right foot with the other and her fingers moving to the handgrip. Maisha pulled the door closed, leaving her hand on the handle, staring straight ahead. A pleasant, gentle breeze blew on her, her body ensnared in goose bumps to toast away the cold. She wanted to scoot closer to that warm air yet her paranoia stilled her form.
An awful roar startled her, armed at the ready with her forefinger pressed on the nozzle of her spray. Eyes bulged out in expectance of some great hulking beast to leap at her. Her can aimed at one of the air vents, unfamiliar to the origin of the sound but keeping her guard up.
Headlights appeared in a bay of soft yellow light. The interior of the dashboard lit up, heavy rock music eased through the speakers. Maisha searched with frantic eyes, circling the spacious area until they landed on her, hopefully, temporary savior.
A frozen expression ignited his visage. Eyebrows disappeared under his beanie, piercing blue irises turned from curiosity to confusion to concern... for his car smelling of soiled onions and pepper. He looked at her with caution, his right hand coming up to grasp her alert hand gently, lowering it into her lap and patting it to stay there.
"You are one jumpy little thing aren't you?"
"Sorry I just... I'm a bit-"
"I know, I know," he said, placing the same hand on the back of her head rest to look behind him, backing the Camaro in reverse in a swift motion. "I'm a stranger, you don't know anything about me, we don't know each other, I might be a serial killer... blah, blah, blah."
He turned out of the parking space and rotated the wheel straight, neglecting to make a left to where her transportation parked. All the warning bells went off simultaneously in her mind; her natural reaction to defend herself prominent because the worse seemed prone to happen.
"Relax," he increased the flow of the heater, adjusting his beanie to see more, "I'm taking you around cause' I don't want to go through all those car 'bumper' things like a maze." He scratched the side of his face in contemplation before adding in a little quip of his own. "Though if it gives me a chance at saving a fine lady, I don't mind."
She smiled in return, giving a short chuckle since her nerves were damn near shot. She stole quick glances out of her peripheral vision, looking at his side profile and how gorgeous he rested on the eyes. Men aren't naturally that handsome, at least the ones she ran into. And if they are, a woman was there to tidy him up, maybe the possibility of him being gay?
Or he was a gigolo.
"You are shitting bricks, girl."
"What gave me away?"
Your sweating fear is nearly suffocating me. "You have a death grip on the door."
Brown eyes looked to her palm, veins bulged and popping out with the strength she used to grip the handle. With reluctance she slowly placed her hand in her lap, tingling skin displaying her nervous nature.
Much to her satisfaction he turned in the back entrance of the lot, Maisha torn between reaching over and hugging him or hopping out the car while it still rolled. He pulled up to her driver's side, turning the radio down some before he saw her leave.
"I can't thank you enough Dante, really."
"Ah don't sweat it. Can't let the ladies get mauled and maimed if I can help it."
A rather solemn simper appeared behind the expression, eyes colder than the warmth it exuded minutes ago. What did he mean by 'if he can help it?' Did he hang around in dark areas where women congregated and escorted them when safe; to somewhere safe?
Was he an off-duty officer in disguise? If so, why didn't he mention it? Why be so secretive? Perhaps he didn't want to tell her aloud in case those goons realized his ploy. Still, a badge or a wink ordained to make her play along with the scenario.
"Are you... a cop or something?"
"Eh... I guess you can say that... of a particular unholy sort."
"Unholy sort?" She scoffed a little. "What, like ghosts and goblins? Or are they just assholes?"
"All three wrapped into one."
Are his words accurate or is everyone in this town a bit loony? Creatures that went bump in the night existed in one's paranoiac mind, sights and sounds of an unsure intuition filled its person with an unnecessary fear.
Shadows bathing in dark blue skies were nothing more than the moonlight casting complex figures that materialized like monsters on the walls. And if there chanced upon a figure's shadow moving, it more than likely belonged to a mugger or criminal staying close to the darkness. Animals populated the moonlit veils; they can inherit part of the blame for the disfigured scenes too.
Or was this something she told herself thanks to her own experience with the things holding a presence after the sun fell below the horizon? Memories of a past wanted to be forgotten poured into her psyche, overflowing with images of ghoulish faces and eerie voices presumed to exist in the fictional world of movies.
A product of countless scares to her mother and spankings from her father said it wasn't true. Many visits to the head doctor and various, high dosage pills said she was mentally ill. An abundance of rumors spread around the neighborhood gave way to harmful teasing.
Her only sanity she could go and cry to was her own flesh and blood. It's a shame really, the period when she needed Masozi the most stumbled into her ascension into teenage hood; the time Masozi disappeared.
Shoving the rest of her childhood in her mental prison, she offered her temporary savior a genuine smile. A gracious thanks flew in his direction as she closed the door and climbed into her own truck. It lit right up, the woman rubbing her hands together to knock the chill off, moving to turn on her own heater prior to the cold freezing her out.
Eyes glanced into the rear view mirror to see the red car pull off, later turning around to face the exit the way he came in the parking lot. Oh great, now he would wait on her? She appreciated the gesture but she's a big girl. She managed to stay safe... when she isn't outnumbered... at night.
Backing out of the driveway had its difficulties. The clouds hid the natural light of the moon and the dim streetlamps provided scant coverage. The man with the iceberg blues had to back up to keep his front from being hit.
Tepid breezy air flowed from the vents, circulating the feel-good heat throughout the truck. She sensed the warmth teeming into her body, becoming more conscious and alert of her surroundings. At least she would be if it wasn't so murky.
The car's brights turned on, illuminating about ten feet worth of landscape for her viewing. She pulled out of the lot and went to the first stop sign, her "officer" pulling up beside her in the oncoming lane. Both windows from opposite cars rolled down, the respected drivers leaning towards the other to listen over the wind and rain.
"You take that ass on home now, ya hear."
Maisha flooded into a fit of giggles, smiling bright and wide, muscles easing from their tense pull. Her mood had lifted, her survival would be intact for another day, thanks to him.
"Oh I plan on to."
Her suspicions laid open a little underneath her gratitude. Those men had... somewhat up and disappeared? Where did they go? Were they too scared to attack since Dante showed? But she wasn't out of the clear yet. All the same, it seemed unlikely now, what if Dante followed her home or told one of his lackeys to do it? Is he really her rescuer or he just kept up the façade?
"And where are you going?"
The man focused on something in his rear view mirror, Maisha looking into her own but the rain clouded her vision. Perhaps he caught sight again of those shady figures and... his protective instincts kicked into gear? Whether he did or not it carried out the chance to head on home, safe from this treacherous area.
"Well, I can't thank you enough for what you did today. Hope to see you around."
His eyes flicked over to hers, expression changing from stern to soft when she spoke. He engrossed himself with whatever enraptured his attention, resuming to observe in the mirror. And she decided to leave him to it.
Pools of warm cappuccino glanced in his direction once more, pressing on the gas to accelerate forward. Dante's car lights dimmed the further she traveled, darkness keen to swallow him in their depths.
He correlated to that of a mysterious person, walking along the line of fiend and friend yet she couldn't place the reason for her judgment. A sincere generosity oozed through his pores, hiding over this ominous-like interior holding a dark presence. Akin to a sociopath blending well in society. Not to mention his profession of apprehending those of the "unholy" nature.
Her turn came up, Maisha slowing down to see Dante... still in the same lane. Curiosity ebbed at her conscious to view what happened but logic stepped in, telling her to leave him be and to truck it to her residence. Despite the good Samaritan role he played, she shivered over the wicked vibes pouring off of him, like the bad guy who tried to play innocent.
The horn honked twice in a final goodbye. The noises the atmosphere belted out strummed in a heavy rhythm. She didn't think he heard it at such a distance, but it wouldn't hurt to try.
Hands rotated the steering wheel to the left, right foot lightly pressing on the gas when a heavy beep sounded somewhere behind her. So he did catch her good-bye.
If he was in trouble, he would have flashed his brights or blew the horn like crazy. However, he can take care of himself and it bordered on the time she did the same. Maisha peered into the mirror for the last peek and smiled as the car veered onwards, soothing jazz music drowning out nature's becoming wrath while she drove home.

"Ugh, finally. I made it!" The woman kicked off her shoes, tossing her jacket and unbuttoning her blue blouse, trudging up the stairs to where her grandiose bedroom resided.
Deep burgundy drapes and a matching king-sized bed added to the abstruse lair of mystic grace. In the far corner by the window stood a rich, dark oak desk and chair, littered with intimate items and perfumes. Opposite her adult crib rested a walk-in closet and next to her bed, a door to the simple but elegant bathroom.
Glitter green-polished toes connected with the beige carpet, persuading her to walk a straight line to her bed instead of changing out her wet clothes. Inviting as the idea sounded, she had to make sure Halima made it home safe. No matter how tired she felt, how exhausted, irritated or sick, the only woman she gave a speck about received her genuine concern.
Opting to head into the bathroom first, she opened the door and nearly slammed it shut, the unclosed window above the bathtub harvesting the musky, clean air. She reached under the vanity, utilizing the teeth cleaning supplies before her soft sheets soundlessly rocked her to sleep.
The sound of buzzing distracted her, running out the little cube to grab her cell phone, minty fresh toothpaste drooling down her chin. The cellular slid open to read a message from Halima.
Matt-boy is a bitch! Made it home safe. TLK 2 U 2morrow. Txt me bck I'll kill U XD!
Maisha produced a grin that faltered into a frown, a gooey blob poured out her mouth onto her t-shirt. Setting it down on the bed, her feet rushed to kiss the chilled white-tiled floor, washing the fluoride gunk out. Another breeze shot into the small corner, reaching up to slam the window shut.
Nightly regimen completed, including a nice scrubbing of the face, she slid on a new black t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. She didn't have a care towards the extra large size, opting for the comfort it provided in the chilly temperature.
Hazelnut assuaged her senses under the cold blanket, failing to give her the immediate warmth she craved. With the coldness biting through her clothes she jumped out of the soothing platform and looked in her closet. A heavy blue comforter pulled out the space to put over the one she had.
Maisha moved around until she felt comfortable, burrowing deeper in the added warmth. The weather raged on in fervent fury, pounding against the roof in endless drones. Her thoughts shifted to the latter half of the day and its outcome.
If Dante wasn't there, she can't fathom what may have happened being on her lonesome. Halima might've taken too long to respond, and a high doubt lagged that she could fend off an attack of at least one of them, let alone three. In spite of the event, did it really matter now since she was safe and out of harms way?
Her arms stretched over her head in cat-like movements, relieving the last amounts of tension forced onto her body. On the chance that such a similar case went down again, she would know the precautionary measures of its prevention. Her vehicle will park right in front of the store and stay there until ready to leave for home.
"Matthew can kiss my fat ass for all I care. No one shops at that shitty place anyway." The reassuring thought brought a smile to her face, breathing slowing down for sleep started to pull her in. The pitter-patter of rain droplets rhythmically pounded against the window, aiding slumber to take control of her.

A/N: [1] kush-slang for marijuana, weed.
I know ya'll wanted to see Verge, but he'll be in the next chapter. He wasn't ready to make his semi-entrance yet...
Not much to say here, other than to thank my beta for looking over the chapter and giving some pointers!
I bid thee farewell (for now) so drop a line or two and tell me what you think!
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The Chosen One Unknown