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Devil May Cry: Remnants	By : Radius Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 1604 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
AN: Dante�s side of the day. Also, there�s the
introduction of an important OC. I hope you like him ;-)

***
Dante�s Day 1 � Sweet Lullaby ***

�� It was already drizzling when Dante stepped out of
his two-story office building around nine in the morning. The forecast said
it'd be raining all day with strong chances of heavy winds and possible
flooding. Still, that wasn't going to keep him from going to the subway. He
left the door to his building open, setting a small object at the foot of the
doorframe to prevent it from getting wet. Meanwhile, he prepared his umbrella.
He didn't really care about getting wet but the small object, a colorfully
wrapped present the size of a book, was considered precious cargo. He looked up
to see the dark grey sky for a moment, only to frown. His building's neon lights
were still on, the words Devil May Cry faintly blinking on and off
again. Dante shook his head.
�� "Dammit, Punk," he muttered and went back
inside to click the light off. "How many times I gotta tell you to turn it
off before you leave?"
�� The moment he stepped back outside the rain started
to pour down, immediately drenching him. He was about to curse but caught a
glimpse of the present still on the floor. Dante smiled, remembering why he was
going through all this trouble. He opened his mouth and drank some of the
incoming rain.
�� "Yes," he said out loud, competing with the
sound of the wind. "Nothing like acid rain in the
morning!"
�� He howled out loud and began spinning himself around
and around, arms spread out. Half of his odd behavior came from a case of beer
and bottle of tequila he drank last night, but most of it came from excitement
too. Several people trying to escape the rain took notice and went the other
way. Dante just laughed until he stopped spinning, nearly colliding with his
trashcan. He waited a few minutes for the dizziness to subside before finally
opening his umbrella. The words, 'God's Pissing Again?' popped right up in
bold, bright letters. A small illustration of a white bearded and robed man
taking a piss on a cloud showed just beneath it the words. Still chuckling to
himself, he retrieved the present and locked up, soon heading for the subway.
�� Despite having to get up early and Punk's negligence,
overall, he was in a good mood. Today was an important day for him. He was
seeing someone very close to him that he hadn't seen for awhile so there was no
reason to be in a sour condition. Even as cars drove by and splashed water all
over his favorite jeans he started to whistle a merry tune.
�� Dante certainly was a colorful character. Red was
obviously his favorite color as his usual attire, a trench coat and pants,
shared the same color. However, those were his 'work' clothes. Today he wore
only his faded gray jeans matched with a yellow shirt. A heavy leather bomber
jacket, which echoed the style of the WWII sheepskin version, hung over his
lean and muscular frame.
�� He was a handsome man with rock star good looks and a
seriously toned body men admired and women fancied. Upon first assumption, one
would think he deliberately dyed his wavy, neck-length hair silver. However,
those close to him would discover this was actually his natural hair color.
Even more immediate were those eyes of his. They shared the same hue of the clear
blue ocean itself and seemed capable of piercing through anything, sending
shivers up the spine of anyone directly in their path. Another assumption
people often made was that a man of his caliber was a ladies man who had an ego
as tall as his massive height. In truth, while he did sport a mighty ego, he
usually put business over pleasure. The women in his life, from those he
considered family to casual intimate partners, were never his trophies as many
had speculated. And despite being arrogant, conceited, and maybe even
demanding, he always put his personal reservations aside when the situation
called for it. If anything, he was a sensitive creature who happened to be
really good in concealing emotions that might put him at a disadvantaged. Perhaps a little too good.
His ability to keep
people guessing also served to hide other secrets about himself, especially
those that connected to his past. No one knew how incredible his life's story
was unless they were somehow connected to it. His history was the stuff of
fairy tales. Or nightmares.
�� By day he was a paranormal investigator. By night,
however, he was a mercenary who hunted down things that went bump in the night,
namely demons. However, witches, vampires and the occasional werewolf were not
beneath him and were considered fair game. He possessed abnormal strength,
speed, and an incredible healing system that would put even Superman to shame. These
abilities of his were passed onto him by his father, the legendary dark knight,
Sparda.
Sparda was a strong
hearted demon warrior who once served under the ranks of Hell's emperor,
Mundus. In time, he rebelled against his demonic brethren and fought on behalf
of all the humans helpless against the forces of darkness. Allies and enemies
emerged as Sparda took on the emperor. When he had accomplished his goals, he
resided on Earth to live among the people he saved. Millenniums later, Sparda
found his bride and sired two twin sons: Dante and Vergil.
Unfortunately, evil
never rested and it certainly had a grudge. When it threatened to return,
Sparda sealed the gate to the demon world as well as its minions. Sparda had
given his life to protect those he loved. Even more traumatic events occurred
later on, with the death of his wife, Eva. She too sacrificed herself to save
their two sons. One survived and trained to avenge his family. The other was
taken by darkness, never to return to the boy he once was.
�� Dante's mood became a little sober and he stopped
whistling. On rainy days like this it was hard not to think about his mother or
brother. His hand reflectively touched a ruby amulet hidden beneath his shirt.
It was given to him by his mother on his birthday. Up until now, it used to be
split into two halves. His thumb slowly slid over the other side of the amulet,
the half that used to belong to his brother, Vergil.
�� His connection to Sparda had granted him incredible
strength and power, the power of the devils. Yet, his connection to his mother
made him human. Compassionate. Demons may have been powerful, but they were
nothing more than mindless puppets. The power of freewill granted him true
power, something Vergil never did understand.
�� Dante was certainly a handful. Even Lady, a woman
hard to keep up with, finally found her match. He pissed at any devil that
dared to confront him. Likewise, he mocked everyone, even those that were
obviously stronger or powerful than he was. Anytime there was a fight looming
around the corner he welcomed it with open arms and guns blazing. He took it
all in good stride and now all of them were resting ten feet below ground. Hail
to the King of Chaos, baby.
�� He wasn�t a crazy, high strung guy he used to be back
in younger days but he was still in the psychotic range. There was the
Temen-ni-gru incident. After that, Mallet Island,
which was followed by a chain of other events like Vie de
Marli. He had matured since then. Not just physically but also mentally.
His attitude... work ethics... everything. Still, he had to remember that being
able to grin at his adversaries was the only way of keeping him from growing
mad with rage or sadness. It was certainly that ability of his that kept him
from dwelling over the past.
�� Dante continued walking and minutes later, he located
the subway's entrance across the street. He ran to that direction, almost
getting hit but not caring. After descending a staircase and moving from one
platform to the next, he finally found his train number and propped himself
into an empty seat.
�� From his coat�s pocket, he extracted two chocolate
bars of Milky Way and ate them within ten seconds before licking his fingers
clean. There were two more, along with a bag of Skittles, in the other pocket.
But he left them there for the time being. Meanwhile, the present sat quietly
on his lap. He arched his body to the side, wanting to view the passing scenery
on the window behind him. Still, he wasn't really looking at it. Dante was deep
in thought, instead, a sad smile forming in his lips.
�� It'd been awhile since he visited Nemo. Ever since
they moved him to the other orphanage across town it had been difficult seeing
him on a regular basis. The many jobs he'd been given these days also
contributed to the problem.
�� Dante remembered the first time he saw him. Scared. Shocked. And full of blood.
At only five years old, Nemo had witnessed the slaughter of his parents by his
demon-possessed sister. Nemo couldn't scream for help because he was mute. All
he could do was run out and bang on all the doors in the apartment building. No
one came out. He went back to help his parents, still hoping they were alive.
His possessed sister snatched him the moment he came into the living room.
�� A priest had called Dante the day before the incident
and told him about the possessed girl. The Vatican was still pending on his
request to perform an exorcism so he asked the devil hunter if he could step in
since he felt the situation was too critical to wait any longer. Already piled
with a heavy workload, Dante decided to arrive at the apartment complex the
next day, halfway expecting the case to be as mild as the others had been.
�� He arrived at night. Standing in front of apartment 303,
he knocked and knocked on the door but got no answer. He didn't hear anything.
Even his extraordinary hearing senses only picked up the television from next
door, a leaking faucet, and a soft thuck-thuck-thuck sound. He was about
to give up until his gut feeling told him to open the door and so he did.
�� There was little Nemo. A frail young
boy with large black eyes, thick lips, and skin the color of deep dark
chocolate. Full of promise and innocence. He lied
helplessly on top of the living room's coffee table. That thuck-thuck-thuck
sound he heard was coming from his sister's kitchen blade as it kept slashing
and tearing away at the boy's chest and arms. Chunks of meat
flying everywhere. All the while, she held a calm expression in her
face, not even blinking. Before Dante took another step the girl finally
stopped. Then slowly turned to face him and smiled, as if nothing was wrong.
Dante liked to believe Nemo wasn't conscious to see his sister slash at her
wrists and neck before finally gutting herself. But deep down, he knew better.
�� He rushed Nemo to a nearby hospital, trying to fight
back the rage building inside him. Despite nearly dying twice, the little guy
pulled through and remained at the hospital for close to a year. Countless of
surgeries were done to replace the bone, tissue, and blood loss. Dante sat by
his side throughout the whole ordeal, using up all of his own finances to pay
for the necessary operations. Every day of it he fought back the anger and
frustration over the demon that did this. Or how he failed to
protect Nemo and his family by not arriving sooner. Those emotions
quickly subsided into compassion when he realized how strong Nemo. The little
guy was determined to live.
�� Nemo obviously gained scars from the traumatic event,
but not just in the physical sense. Already ten years old, he still slept under
his bed, fearful his dead sister might come back to life to finish the job. He
didn't go anywhere near dark places for the same reason she might be there too.
Finally, he avoided going anywhere without the teddy bear his father gave him the
Christmas before the event took place. He hung onto it not because it held
sentimental value, but because it talked. Among one of its lines was 'Yoo-hoo,
I need help! Come on over and help me, will ya?'
�� It was his personal distress call.
�� Since that day, the only person Nemo ever trusted and
communicated with was Dante. Other than him, Nemo consistently kept himself at
a distance with anyone else. He figured if his own sister was capable of trying
to kill him then anyone was a potential threat. Nemo's lack of response
to the linguists and doctors made them all feel the child had no knowledge of
sign language, especially since he was only five. However, once Dante came
around they learned otherwise. Dante knew nothing about the language, but
forced himself to learn from the linguists present.
�� Dante looked down at the present on his lap. Then took out a letter from his jacket. It was from Nemo,
given to him many weeks ago. The words 'See you soon' were written on
it, along with a drawing of the two stick figures holding hands under several
trees. One of the stick figures was small and black while the other was tall
and red. The red one had a small box with the same color of the present he currently
had on his lap. Small lines were drawn everywhere on the picture, representing
rain drops. Dante chuckled softly as he examined the drawing.�
�� Something else happened to Nemo that tragic day,
something many would consider a blessing while some a curse. Dante always heard
stories about people overcoming a traumatic experience and gaining a sixth
sense afterwards. But he never paid them much mind. Yet, Nemo displayed his
ability to predict the future through simple drawings after the tragedy. During
one of Dante's hospital visits, Nemo showed him a picture of a bus full of kids
under water. In the news, many officials were currently searching for a school
bus that had gone missing for two days. A week later, they discovered it
underwater, having skidded off the road during a rain storm. More revelations
were shown in Nemo's drawings, each one accurate. The thought of using Nemo�s
gift to help in his cases never crossed his mind. He'd never use Nemo like
that, even if his life depended on it. And yet, Nemo was always ready to help
him. He'd show him where to find, what he preferred to call, 'the bogeymen.'
�� After half an hour passed, the subway train reached
his destination. He exited it and walked the rest of the way to the orphanage.
The rain was still pouring but not nearly as much as before. He walked a few
blocks down a neighborhood notorious for burglary, rape, drug abuse, and
violence. Very much like his own block. Still, Dante
wasn't worried. He battled demons for a living. A serial killer was cheap change
compared to that. If anything, he felt sorry for the bastard who attempted to
steal Nemo's present.
�� A large dark gray building started to loom into view
and Dante quickened his pace. His heart started to jump and his hand clutched
tightly onto Nemo's gift. The woman he spoke to on the phone for directions
also described the orphanage to him. It fit the same profile. It must be it.
From where he currently was, it was only a three minute walk to the site. His
excitement slowly dissipated the closer he got to the building, however. When
he finally stood directly across it from the other side of the street, he
completely stopped. Dante frowned.
�� "Nemo..." he whispered to himself.
�� The Path to Light Orphanage was a three-storied
building that had large cracks on its walls and barred windows. There was
graffiti everywhere even though the orphanage tried to repaint over it, as
indicated by the odd patches of discoloration. Even though the lawn had been
trimmed and the large trees were lively green, trash littered everywhere. The
playground at the far east side of the orphanage was a
mess as well. Empty beer bottles and used condoms were scattered there, most
likely from the local and insensitive street thugs who snuck in to have a
kiddie party. The large horizontally barred gates did little to make the
scenery pleasant. Overall, it looked more like an asylum than a place for
children. Hell, the children here were probably better off out in the streets.
�� Dante took a deep breath and crossed the road,
heading straight to the security officer guarding the entrance gate. He was
sitting in a small white-colored station currently reading a newspaper. Even
the window there was protected with iron bars. The officer looked up when he
noticed Dante approaching.
�� "Got an appointment?" the guard asked,
bored.
�� "No," Dante answered through the station's
window, "But I wanted to see one of the kids here. I'm a close friend of
his and heard he was transferred to this place."
�� The guard sighed as he set aside his newspaper and
grabbed a tablet and pen. "Name of the child,
please."
�� "Ne-" Dante stopped suddenly, remembering
that Nemo was only a nickname he'd given him. "Dwayne
Richardson."
�� "And your name?" the guard asked, writing
the information down.
�� "Dante."
�� The guard nodded. Then picked up
the phone in front of him. "Yeah. I've got
a gentleman named Dante here who wants to see Dwayne Richardson. He says he's a
friend."
�� A moment of silence.
�� "I see... All right.
Thanks." The guard returned his attention back to Dante. He looked a bit
worried. "Sorry, sir, but... Dwayne is currently occupied."
�� "Occupied?" Dante cocked an eyebrow.
Something was up.
�� "He's with a social worker," the officer
seemed to add, "Come by tomorrow, please."
�� "Can't I at least wait for him? Where's the waiting
room? Aren't these visiting hours?"
�� "I'm sorry, sir," he replied hastily.
"Come back tomorrow."
�� Dante growled. Something was wrong and this jerk
wasn't telling him. When he didn't budge from his spot, the guard stood up from
his chair and placed a hand on his gun, giving the silver haired man a visual
warning. Dante took the hint but silently cursed to himself. He promised Nemo
he'd see him today. And dammit, he was really looking forward to this too.
Unfortunately, he couldn't just force his way in or beat the guard down to a
bloody pulp. That'd only escalate the problem. No, there was nothing he could
do but comply. Dante gave the officer a stern look before doing an about-face
and walking away. He could feel the guard's eyes on him but he didn't care.
Nemo's present was still in his hand.
�� Dante was about to go down the path he came from but
decided, instead, to look around the building. Even if he were outside he could
still speculate where Nemo was being held up. First floor?
Second? Third? He thought about a
lot things as he made his way around the perimeter, staring up at the
building. The rain still poured down, bouncing off his umbrella. He clutched
the present close to him. How were the other kids treating him? In the previous
orphanage the kids were always making fun of the scars he had on his chest and
arms. Some were frightened. Even if seclusion suited Nemo, Dante felt that
behavior would only hurt him in the long run. Just look at his
own life.
�� Yes, he had friends and close contacts. Yes, he had
Trish. Lucia. Lady. Gunny. And countless of others. But
they were all colleagues. Partners. Friends.
Despite the close connection he felt with each of them he'd never share any
intimate details about himself. He could never fully commit to a lover either.
In fact, he never had one. The thought of fully committing to a woman both
physically and emotionally seemed out of his league. Casual sex or
friendship, maybe a combination of both, was the only thing he could offer. My
God, the wall he built around himself was so heavily fortified that he might
not ever experience the joys his mother and father had. He feared the same thing
would happen to Nemo.
�� Dante reached the south side of the building where a
bunch of trees were meters away from the gate. They touched the building's
concrete walls and waved briskly against the wind. He approached the massive
gate and pushed his face between the thick metal bars. He closed his eyes.
�� "Sorry, kid," Dante told himself,
"I'll be back here tomorrow. Even if I gotta call the
Marines."
�� When he opened his eyes he frowned, noticing a small
silhouette shape standing just below one of the trees. He blinked and took a
step back. Whatever it was, he couldn't quite make it out since it continued to
hide among the shadow of the trees. Then it moved a bit forward, as if it
sensed him. Dante immediately recognized the small form and nearly dropped the
present.
�� "Nemo," Dante exclaimed, a huge grin in his
face.
�� Dante quickly checked his surroundings and noticed a
tree a few feet left of him. He dropped the umbrella. With his teeth, he bit
down and held onto a corner of present. With his hands freed now he climbed the
tree as high as it could go. From there he jumped to the gate's top vertical
bar and hung there for a second. He immediately pushed back with his legs
against two horizontal bars, thrusting himself high into the sky to perform an
impossible back flip. He landed on the other side of the gate with a loud thud.
�� Dante let go of the present in his mouth and dropped
it to one of his hands. He walked to the pack of trees where Nemo patiently
waited for him. The drawing Nemo had given him with them standing beneath
several trees stuck in his head.
�� Nemo's dark face lit up the moment Dante approached,
his big eyes widening. One couldn't tell him apart from any other ten year old
boy since he wore a heavy red sweater with a hood. A pair of long khaki shorts
and white, laced-up shoes fitted into him nicely. The scars on his face were
also very faint, the most apparent of them concealed beneath clothing. He
looked modern and approachable. However, the teddy bear nestled under his arm
reminded Dante the real deal.
�� When Dante finally reached Nemo the silver haired man
looked surprised. He smiled as he kneeled down to reach the child's level and
tenderly patted him on the head.
�� "You've grown your hair out I see," Dante
commented, noting the thickness in his hair. He grinned. "It's almost an
afro now. How very retro and stylish of you."
�� Bright white teeth showed in little Nemo's face, a
faint visible scar running from his neck to his chin stretched. Nemo hugged
Dante, obviously excited to see him. He looked at the man before him, eyes
glistening and bright. He soon let go and made a series of quick hand signals
that Dante almost had a hard time following. Dante laughed.
�� "No way! That why the
guard didn't want me to come in? 'Cause the social workers don't know where you
are right now? Ha!" Dante set the present down and grabbed him, pulling
him close to his chest. With a knuckle he started rubbing it on Nemo's head,
giving him a noogie. "You little sneak!"
�� Little Nemo tried to flee from Dante's grasp but
couldn't. All he could do was fling his arms wildly
and laugh even if no sound came out. After Dante felt he had enough punishment
he let go of his victim and showed Nemo his present.
�� "Here. This is for you, Nemo. Knowing you, though,
you already know what's inside."
�� Nemo quickly shook his head no, but it was clear in
his smile that he did. He grabbed the present and went near the trunk of a
tree, propping himself down on the soiled grass. Dante followed him. He watched
the child carefully undo the wrapper, suddenly remembering a Christmas when he
and Vergil battled to see who could unwrap presents faster.
It was still drizzling
but the trees helped prevent the two from getting too wet. For Dante, this was
perfect. The boy he considered a baby brother was sitting next to him, eagerly
opening his present. When Nemo finally undid the wrapper, the child looked up
at him. A tear running down his face.
�� It was a custom-made night lamp that took the shape
of an angel spreading out its wings. It had a built-in music box, sharing the
same theme Dante's own childhood musical box had. The present was to help him
sleep at night and keep the shadows at bay. Somehow, Dante had the impression
Nemo was waiting for this gift.
�� Nemo made a quick thank you gesture before
putting his head against Dante's chest. He played the night lamp's lullaby
Dante used to hear as a child and closed his eyes for awhile. Dante extracted
the last two
Milky Way candy bars stashed in his
pocket and gave one to Nemo. He put an arm over him and they ate. With the
sound of the lullaby and drizzling rain playing in the background, it became a
very quiet moment for the two. Each was haunted by his own past and present. Dreams and nightmares. Love and hate. They were two of a
kind, embedded into each other like a chain.
�� It didn't take a long time for the people looking for
Nemo to hear the music box. Dante heard them approach nearby and knew his time
with Nemo was coming to an end, just like any dream. The child knew this too
since he opened his eyes. He slowly stood up and looked down at Dante. There
was a sad, anxious look in his face. Before long, he took out a sheet of paper
from his sweater's pocket. It was a drawing. He handed it over to Dante and
made an unsettlingly hand gesture.
�� Boogeyman.
�� Before Dante had a chance to see the drawing Nemo was
already leaving, preparing to meet the social workers who were tuning in to the
music. With one hand holding his teddy bear and the other holding the night
lamp, Dante watched in silence as Nemo walked away.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Devil May Cry: Remnants