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Dreams Will Be Made Of These	By : Britt_601 Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3810 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters. Blah, blah, blah-no money is made off of this either.

Chapter List
- 30
- 31
Chapter 31: Invited Interruption
In due time they reached their destination, Dante parking the Pugani at a distance from the building, taking out the funky-looking key. The duo hopped out of the car, placing and checking their respective weapons. Auto repair shops, second-hand paralegal offices, and construction businesses populated a cul-de-sac, the breeze thick with burning fumes and stale, chemical odors.
Dante scanned everything with vigilant eyes, wondering why no one labored away, judging by the missing cars and the 'Closed' signs plastered in the windows. Did he come on a day when nobody worked? Lunch had been over for three hours, so that wasn't the case. Surely someone should have been out there.
Is this place another of Ramona's ghost towns? Where she had demonic officers disguised as humans infiltrate and then kill off the workers? Or did she come up with something slick, ready to send all her minions to pounce on them when they were close enough? Lifting his nose, he smelled nothing of a strong sulfuric taint in the air, but faint traces hovered around his vicinity.
Nero remained under the effects of a weakened balance, his form tense and unsteady standing a few feet away from the Pugani.
Dante himself had tingles coursing through his body from her sleek handling. Perhaps the kid needed a minute to calm down. “Maybe you should keep the car running while I-”
“Let's go,” Nero mumbled, shaking out his hands twice, walking ahead with slow and measured steps. It felt as if he bounced up and down a speeding elevator striding forward, unable to stabilize his gait thanks in no part to his role as a sack of potatoes and Dante's erratic driving. A small side of him admitted to sensing a warming glow from the fast ride, but his jostled nerves prevented his elated acknowledgment.
“So, do you prefer my quick thinking or me planning?” Dante walked by his side, noticing the punk shift away from him.
“Neither. Whenever I'm around, I end up taking the result of your bullshit.”
“My supposed 'bullshitting' got us out alive without taking bullets though, and the civilians too.”
Well... okay, he could agree with that. In all, true to his outlandish style, Dante had to go about his way of getting out of a troublesome situation, resorting to ridiculous tactics if he needed to. Which brought forth another memory wasting no time in taunting him.
Didn't he say he wasn't going to partner up with the dope again?
Crossing his arms Nero slowed his unsure pace, heeding to the consumer-less surroundings. The eerie quietness unnerved him, not even the birds squawked about. The usual rumbling of heavy machinery remained absent. No trucks or freight cars operated on cranes commandeered by sweaty men, along with missing vehicles to signify any employees. What in the world is going on?
The red one had mentioned something about the ghost town back in Whetstone. Is that the case here as well? “You left to that abandoned town didn't you? After you dropped off all that stuff from the truck?” Nero asked, eyebrows furrowed to make a sense of what's happening.
If you had went with him, he would be yours now.
He shook his head to silence his inner demonic voice. “What exactly did you find out there about these people, er... Ramona and stuff?”
“Well, when you have a lot of money, you get to bribe people to do stupid shit. So a member of... Angus, Magnus... that scientist's flunkies escaped Fortuna shortly after it collapsed, got with the in crowd and weaseled his way to be buddies with the titty queen.”
“He died, right?”
“Yup. Or she turned him into a monster. Which ever you prefer. I guess they traded demonic secrets and as soon as she got what she wanted out of him, she gave him the axe.”
“And... she's the one who created these monsters?”
“Yeah. He gave her the spells to make the hearts, then she did the rest.”
Nero bristled, recalling their time in the abandoned police station. “In which you chose to bite me after one of those freaks took a chomp out of you.”
“You kept pushing my buttons. I had to shut you up for a minute.”
“That's not what you told me!”
“I know, but you irritated the hell outta me with all those questions and I needed to clear my head. Nothing happened to you though, right? You gotta learn to let shit go, kid.”
Jerk. He hated when Dante treated everything with an aloof mindset, not caring about the principle of a situation, only if it meant something to him or not. By default, the teen thought along a similar path, yet whenever Dante acted on impulse, he had to put his guard up and walk around on eggshells.
Attentive iceberg blues saw the kid steady his saunter, but he wasn't up to par yet. “You okay enough to work today?”
A deep inhale expanded Nero's lungs, deciding to let his troubles and worries collect into this big ball of air, releasing all the drama weighing on his mind through a loud exhale. “Whatever man, let's go.”
Heavy, sliding feet trudged up to the entrance of a burgundy and gray-brick warehouse, opening the door as a bell chimed above. It possessed an old newspaper smell along with a humid-must scent. No one sat at the front desk, the metal table littered with papers strewn about and a blue coffee mug.
His left hand hovered over the cup, sensing no warmth from the espresso-hued liquid. Dipping two fingers inside he felt its frigid temperature, wiping the dark stain on his jeans.
“Nobody can really stand cold coffee, you don't suppose he went out to get more?” Dante said, browsing through the papers on the desk.
“The coffee is more important than locking up the shop?” Nero scoffed, preparing to vocally announce their arrival when a gloved palm covered his mouth. Having it in his mind to bite his fingers, ceruleans sent a glare towards the elder when his gaze softened, seeing a thick finger pressed to his lips.
Without another word Dante moved to the left, going through an entry that led upstairs, leaving Nero to investigate the tiny office. Sitting in the corner right behind the door a weeping fig drooped its leaves, signaling no one watered the thirsty plant in at least a few days. So that cup of coffee... sat there untouched all this time? What made the person drop everything and leave, or worse?
“Get up here,” Dante's voice called out to him, Nero then going up the stairs with a ball of doubt forming in his gut. Did he want to show him a dead body? No, that couldn't be it because he detected no sickly, decaying scent. Perhaps information remained pertaining to this Ramona chick or about the employees who worked here? Are there monsters hiding in there or more of those hearts?
At the top of the stairs a salty, musty smell met with his nose, snorting out the briny odor before stepping into a dirty room. Various clothing articles rested atop a full-sized, green and white-comforter bed, an oak-chipped dresser, and on dingy gray carpet, holding responsibility for the funk. A cramped bathroom sat near the bed, running water spouting a full stream in the sink.
“Is someone in there?” Nero mouthed the words with the elder shaking his head back and forth.
Dante stood in front of a small television sitting on a stand, a remote in his hand after he curled his pointer finger, beckoning the teen to come closer. The teen's hands involuntarily twitched, stepping forward to see what needed to be seen.
He pressed play on the remote, filling the room's silence with heavy breaths.
A man donning smooth, muscular umber skin struggled to breathe lying naked on a bed, thighs clenched tightly with his head thrown back. Tiny, sweat-laced droplets spread a thin layer over his form, veins popping out of his neck like corded string.
Another male with rich, butterscotch skin lay nude too, nestled between the other man's thighs, suckling on his member at a rapid pace, hands winding up and down his cock with swift tugs. Unable to hold on any longer the prostrate man succumbed to pleasure, opening his mouth to let a hoarse roar exit through his lips. Thick, white tendrils coated plump lips and palms refusing to lessen their pleasuring gifts, sending the guy on a writhing, euphoric trip.
And letting Dante take control of Nero's stolen focus.
Strong hands wrapped around a slim, toned waist, smelling the black ash and mint fragrance he couldn't get enough of, guiding his nose along the curve of his throat.
“They got the right idea. You wanna make our own little flick?” A long and thick tongue licked the edge of his neck in obvious glee, savoring the tiny shivers wracking through his form.
Two hands grabbed Dante's wrists, either in fashion to stop him or to secure an anchor for his wobbling legs, and squeezed, breath coming in shallow spurts after the flirtatious advances crumbled his common sense. A raspy gasp flew from his labiums when a firm mouth latched onto the side of his column, one hand trailing to his jawline as the other snaked to his crotch.
Anything pertaining to logic left his mind; rushing excitement pooling into his core, leaving his intuition to float adrift his jumbling thoughts. The guy on the television hadn't silenced his mewls, doing nothing to help Nero gain a hold of his bearings. Dante wasted no time palming his groin, sensing his cock stiffen when this clearly wasn't the time for a distraction.
Damn cocky, horny devil.
“Not again, you idiot,” he moaned on a weak breath, loosening his stiff muscles from their shaky and strained feeling, leaning his head back to sink into the pleasuring ministrations.
This led him back to his previous thoughts, wondering of the outcomes if he submitted to his indulges. However, he picked up on Dante's earlier words echoing in his mind, the elder voicing aloud Nero's complaints about their plausible hook-up. While Nero busied himself with denying what Dante said about his brooding, he knew the hybrid talked sense.
The teen himself had no intentions of going into a committed relationship with the hybrid, but he didn't want to be viewed as a cheap fling either. Venturing into new territory drew natural bouts of hesitation within him, titillation wrapping a stronger hold on him, pulling him to let go of his securities and enjoy himself.
Strong hands moved to his slim hips, the chieftain detaching his lips and teeth from his pallid neck to turn him around, Nero unknowingly inclining his full front into the veteran's broad chest. Pale blues stared in a focused gaze into his own, soft wisps of breath escaped his throat, feeling light-headed from the intense look.
The youth tried his hardest not to step away from those glittering eyes, heat traveling through his feet to trail upwards, settling in his belly. He played a dangerous game, knowing he should halt this before it led to an awkward ending but the wheels had already sped in motion; Nero unable to find the gears to stop and shift the control into his hands.
“What's wrong with a little detour, huh?” Dante dragged his lips across the youth's own, Nero pushing his labiums out to gain friction but he pulled back, a gloved hand rising to cradle the base of his skull.
That funny-belly sensation pitted in his stomach, a cavern of emptiness swelling his insides before a tingle wracked through him... along with his feet growing hotter.
Thin toes curled inward when the caressing morphed into a slow kiss, Dante holding his neck in place, awakening his senses to tune in to every gesture placed upon him. Wet smacking sounds continued from the TV, adding to the blissful setting surrounding them.
An unexpected groan tore from his mouth when Dante clamped his teeth on his bottom lip, his strong palms sliding under his jacket to knead his ass. Ceruleans rolled lazily, not focusing on anything in particular, hands coming around broad shoulders to steady his balance.
Twitchy feet splayed out their nervous jitters, giddy over the attention he welcomed with eased desire. His inhales couldn't keep up with the hungry mouth suckling and gnawing on him with fervent hunger, sinking him further into a lust-filled haze, needing to take his shoes off before he caught on fire.
Wait, what?
Eyelids opened, not even realizing when he closed them, staring into half-lidded, smoldering periwinkles. His lips connected with the barest touch, a guiding warmth springing from his chest, overcome with a prickling serenity coursing in his limbs.
Whatever this sensation called itself he wanted to sample more of it, to see how it would make him feel―fuck this burning floor!
He peeled his eyes away, needing a moment to figure out why his feet wouldn't allow him a minute to relax, and to calm himself from the air-headed motion gripping him.
Except his soles had every reason to warn him; the floor became a cesspool of heated energy, smoky tendrils rising from the gray carpet like it had spontaneously caught on fire from this very room.
Alarmed, Nero forced himself to step back, the misty aura clearing thanks to the situation developing. Brown boots couldn't take the heat simmering underneath them, bouncing on the bed to cool off his feet.
Seeking sanctuary on the bedding proved no better. The end of the bed rose into the air, its cheap, wooden headboard sinking into the floor followed by the start of the mattress. Every muscle in his body tightened, enlarged eyes looking to Dante to see if he stood shocked too. Instead, he stood by the small window, focusing on what occurred outside the building, face pulling inwards upon viewing his own confusing scene.
“What's going on here?” Nero growled flailing his limbs, scrambling to get off the rapidly dipping mattress. His balance left him after his stilts disappeared into the floor, fusing into the faltering structure, sensing his legs burn in heightened discomfort. The clothes once populating the carpet vanished, leaving nothing but charred remains descending into the torrid, quicksand-like mass.
Strong hands yanked him out of the sinkhole, pushing him out the door, Nero needing no further hint to scram. A potent fume of a thousand lit matches hit his nostrils, almost taken aback by the vigorous scent yet he pushed forward.
“Melting walls, that's a new trick,” Dante said after they reached the first floor, eyes seeing the agency corroding; the front half sunk into itself, creating a chasm rendering leaving out that way pointless. The air, made harder to breathe with its thickened aroma, tickled his nose without mercy.
A small opening led to a back office, the chieftain shoving Nero in that direction before he couldn't take another step; his nose scrunching up to deliver a sonic blast of a sneeze. Nero ran ahead to an additional door, stopping just in time to whirl around, watching the building's structure collapse, Dante sure to sink into the deteriorating floor and fall under the toppling ceiling.
On instinct, his right arm sprang towards the elder, grabbing a hold of his form, and snatching him from the rubble clawing to take anything with it. Nero burst through the door, letting go of the red one too soon; the elder's mass colliding into him. His feet sought to touch solid flooring but the collision disrupted his balance. He braced for a hard impact, instead feeling weightless before carried off in Dante's arms. When they moved far enough from the agency they stopped, Dante setting him down on his soles.
Nero opted to sit on the cold, metal ground in the vast warehouse, one knee propped to rest his left arm. A giant crater rested where the small office once belonged, heated tendrils still going strong. Breathless and shaken he looked to his right, Dante rotating his head to see their new surroundings, a light scowl marring his features. Spare car parts filled the shelves, rows upon rows taking up the capacity.
“What the hell was that?” Nero shouted, unable to tear his eyes away from the gaping hole.
“A trap,” the veteran muttered, withdrawing his prized pistols.
“I know that, but what was that? Can sulfur just... melt shit like that?”
“No. Someone used their bag of magic tricks to make that happen.”
“Ramona, you think?”
“Mm.... no. Something of that magnitude required a demon's know-how. I'm not counting her off, but she couldn't have done it alone.”
How could the building dissolve if nobody is here, unless hidden cameras tracked their movements. Wait, if they had cameras plugged in somewhere, is it possible they concealed one in the room? Did Ramona's goons witness them making out?
Chattering teeth gritted, lips pressed tight to keep his panicky thoughts from tumbling out. A warming heat (that was normal) originated from the back of his neck, gaining in intensity the further it crawled up his face, settling in his cheeks.
If the urge to flee grew any stronger, he knew he wouldn't stop himself from jumping into that burning chasm.
Nero couldn't stop his limbs from shaking, placing both hands on the ground to steady himself but it worsened. Cracked lines in the asphalt ran through the warehouse, a few shelves falling over to the side.
“What were you looking at out the window?” Nero shouted, standing up to stabilize his balance.
“A white van drove up and pushed eight guys out while they morphed into their better halves, then it sped off.”
“Morphed?”
Tremors and guttural growls of an unnatural biology vibrated through the complex, Nero having to cover his ears with the howling screams clamoring to a screeching pitch. Squelching sounds originated from the gaping chasm, rising steadily with surprising speed. Movement right outside the warehouse's structure drew Nero's eyes to its location, widening to see what Dante meant by 'morphing.'
“There's more of those gangly, shit-smelling demons! So those converts expected us all-”
Several shelves near the warehouse's rear collapsed, the hunters whipping their heads to the location, hearing irregular growls singing in a damned harmony, drifting in the air towards them.
Fumes from a thousand lit matches rose out of the abyss much stronger now, along with the creature responsible. Hot, blue-black slime burst from its giant jaws, the duo stepping away to create enough space around them. Nero shifted to stand to Dante's back, trying in vain to distinguish how many creatures corned them from the lot's end. Countless, muddled wheezes snarled together, believing to make out at least nine of them.
Hasty movements brought forth concentration, forgetting about their frisky rubbing and their argument. Intuition told him to dodge, rolling out of the way towards a set of stairs, Dante leaping by the second row of car parts. Nero witnessed a gray-skinned hand bigger than his whole body slam into the ground, leading to extra long arms attached to an even longer torso.
“I didn't know these things had an older sibling. You think it interrupted us to give a spanking for hurting their siblings?”
Wait a minute―did he just imply...
Dante tittered with amusement. “More like interrupting me from acquainting my hand with your ass.”
Yes. Yes he did.
Unable to decipher his words a thirty-five foot humanoid jumped at him, Nero having to leap up the stairs to escape its gaping maws. By opening its mouth alone he sensed the concentrated, match-fume smell, already feeling hot liquid build up around his temple from being in the creature's vicinity. Whatever they fed this thing, all the while stashing it underneath the warehouse, had tripled in size, along with the vicious, lethal attitude to boot.
Briefly, Nero wondered if the freak “sensed” their presence, activating its attack by melting the building, a frightening idea and an offensive tactic to watch out for. It also made him wonder if they had an underground facility, networking in secrecy away from lawful eyes, using demonic magic to create what they will.
“Hey uh, you should start getting rid of the Enkindles-”
“Forget their stupid names!” Nero yelled, side-stepping in haste after the colossal freak brought its massive hand in a downward arc, taking out a section of the stairs' walkway with a quick swipe. An unexpected shout spewed from his mouth after the thing followed up its attack with a lunge, gearing to bite him whole.
“You're the one with that wolf-power thing in your right arm.” Dante yelled back, seeing the Enkindles on the other side of the gaping hole squat, leaping to get to where he stood. Luckily, they couldn't successfully cross the wide gap, but the thought alone unnerved him.
“Wouldn't it be easier if we switched? I'm not in the mood to fight these things, and you don't want me to go into that mindset again, right? Fire killed them quick and you got that nifty little sword-”
“Shut up!” Nero screamed, a prickly, bubbling aura surging in his chest over Dante's incessant chatter. If the veteran focused hard enough, he could fight the smaller-yet-still-big monsters. He handled them fine at the police station, so if he kept his sights on them, he'll be all right.
Bullets from Dante's twin guns rained down onto something in the large gap, drawing the monstrosity's attention, it lunging at Dante with surprising speed.
A deep breath filled his lungs then exited as quick, noticing his inability to draw his weapons, too focused on surviving to do anything else, roughly shaking out his limbs to calm himself. At once he hopped over the stair railing, landing in the middle-back section of the warehouse, where front hoods to compact sedans lined the shelves.
Hiding behind a shelf, ceruleans looked through the car parts to see two Enkindles walking forward in their twitchy, unnatural gait, Dante's voice echoing his gleeful taunts to the world in the background. They stopped, raising their head into the air, lacking eyes and a nose to sense him correctly, using some hidden sensory nerves to detect his presence. Nero tip-toed in soundless steps to sneak behind them, intending to ignite them on fire in a single strike.
It's too bad he didn't recognize when something purposely obscuring his vision came into his immediate vicinity, unable to dodge a sneaky bastard that grabbed him with its hook-like limb, jaws stretched open to swallow his head whole.
A/N: Ramona's tired of your shit, you guys. I believe she really wants you dead.
I'm sure all that adrenaline from the fast car made Dante want to release some “happy energy” onto (or is it into?) Nero and yet the distractions keeps coming. Maybe I'll lock them in a basement...or a KFC (like hardly anyone buys anything from the KFC where I live because it's just lazy service and everyone is going to Popeye's) so they won't be interrupted when Dante's feeling a little...”playful”.
Can Capcom borrow elements from Bloodborne and put that into a Sparda game?
Ta-ta for now dearies!
- 30
- 31
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Dreams Will Be Made Of These