FicWad

Author: Howdy guys and gals! Thanks for tuning in! As you can see, this is the beginning phase of the story, so things are slowly going along. Enjoy the calamity while it lasts, though, as things will start to heat up soon. Until then, enjoy a day in Dante's shoes. ^_^


* 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 Vidu Di Mali. 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.
The present sat quietly on his lap as he arced himself to the side, wanting to view the passing scenery. Still, he wasn't really looking at it. He was deep in thought, 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 put an arm over him. 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.



*
Author: Aw, who knew Dante had a baby brother. ^_^ For all you Vergil fans, stay tuned for Pandora's storyline coming up next. You'll see how our favorite deranged, blue-obsessed devil fits into this story. :D