Category: Devil May Cry, Capcom owns it.
Pairing: Not really a pairing as they aren't together but...Eva x Sparda.
Rating: M for violence and strong imagery
A/N – I suppose this is AU, since Sparda sealed the demon world 2000 years ago, but this is a different take because I've wanted to write something like this – where hell has no time, as in the bible, and the time frame is a red herring to explain that legends are legends, and no one knows except capcom, plus how Sparda and Eva met. Wish there was a story behind Dante and Vergil's parents. Used present for fight scene. An OC, named after an historical demon, is mine. I just took the name.
Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell!
As he our darkness, cannot we his light
Imitate when we please?
-- Miltons Paradise Lost
When the human world was novel, the darkness was awash with demon's blood. There was only the night but light pushed its way into that obscurity, forcing itself to be flooded.
Supernatural things had begun to change the world and the decay crumbled from the force of the new wind from the east. The cold north father sat on his icy throne, but his finger had frozen. It broke off from his hand, the icicles cracked, and there was an avalanche of surprise.
It happened because of that damnable light.
An opening created a cracked puncture, widening inch by inch, which took years, decades and through that time and space, the seeping harshness of day demanded retribution and revenge.
If blood was the only gift humans could possess, they bartered their souls with the seal of its richness of iron, salt and their flesh.
From a distance there was a mountain and from its peak, a cascading flow of scarlet and molten gold sparkled, an endowment only nature could grant.
It sounded like a flushing toilet, but it was only the rush of hot melting lava flowing down all sides of the mountain, capsizing everything with it. Nothing living could survive the temperature; it was too powerful and that power could be harnessed and taken. By the right entity.
He came from the fires of hell, storming out with a sword in his hand that he forged with his own blood. Muscle and bone replaced his iron steel covering; he belonged to another race from below the depths of this earth he now stepped on. They would have called him a god, but at the present, his breed were cast away, pushed back and sealed.
The Chinese whispers floated precariously in the wind, carrying tales of that which happened eons ago.
When the long enduring eclipse covered the earth the moon had encased the sun for so long that it prevented the process of life.
This black out caused humanity to bow down to their fears, allowing the hand of darkness to decree over their souls as there was no need to hope. Dreams were only for the weak.
Another era, another place, before he woke up to the hand of righteousness, before his eyes were pulled away from the swathe of obscurity, he would have approved of his devil kin to rule over humanity. The universe held many secrets and those secrets devils took away from the world. Earth had been a piece of that heaven they could never get back to, their place to reap the benefits of each human's inner fear and their never ending sins.
He would have just sat back and watched his comrades take a person's soul and eat it with a greedy swallow. The devil knight blocked away the cries and the pain; turn his back on the aged and the women who were screaming for help. What did they want? He didn't even give himself the opportunity to think. Thinking was an annoying trait, especially for humans who spent most of their time thinking when they should have been doing something. Then there were humans who acted without any thought.
Those humans were brave, or so they would have been if there had been someone to commemorate their loss. The icy stare of the Devil Knight pierced their souls, sent them back stumbling with fear. They had screamed that the devil had no light in his eyes and there was only blood – rich and powerfully strong with a pulsating heart beat that defied their accusations and pumped with a life of its own.
The devil's eyes trailed after them, before his kind had taken over the entire world and raped the land of any innocence. He had seen them begging for mercy, watched them burn alive, and all he could do was stare out into the emptiness of their eyes.
He liked to stand high above the city, to watch the flames burn brightly, encasing the darkness in a terrible smell, black ash floating above to cover nostrils, scenting their initiation of identification through branding.
And sometimes he liked to swagger among the broken streets, watching with apathy the chaos ensuing and the demons feasting. Everything the humans had worked for, their buildings, their homes, all destroyed in a blink of an eye. And why not? They didn't deserve it. They all hated each other didn't they?
In the fiery glow of flesh being burned alive, many of the humans were taken to servitude, giving up their souls easily. Why fight they thought openly, why bother? Some hadn't even given it a second thought and fell before their masters, giving away any information that harbored any rebellion against demons. It was no use really. Humans were too weak. Even with their numbers, they were delicious prey for the larger and more powerful demons.
Hope disappeared from their eyes.
A fallen tear caught his eye. A bony child hid trembling; his dark eyes were sunken in, but he didn't scream or beg. The devil knight watched with curiosity as the child's dirty face, sunken in with the onslaught of malnourishment and lack of care, shed silver salty liquid from its eyes.
What's this? Has he lost his mother? Waifs were always the best food for demons. These abandoned children were easily manipulated and the best to raise for demons. That's if they were chosen to use them. If not, there was always more blood to shed. And more bones to break, however frail or tough they were. The next best ones to feed on were the braver, stupider humans who took it upon themselves to fight back. It didn't take long really.
He gripped his sword, turning to the skinny child, showing himself fully to the small human and instead of fear he saw nothing in the eyes.
It took him by surprise. Tears were always an indication of passion and emotion. But this child…..
Raising his sword he viciously stabbed at a reptilian demon who had pounced on them, its focus on the child.
"This one's mine!" The knight growled, red eyes flashed dangerously.
The lesser demon snapped its tail, hitting the knight as repercussion for the stab in the gut. Sharp fangs glittered with wet saliva as its tongue whipped out to its opponent, hissing out a warning,
"Its not yoursssss alone to take unlessssss Mundussss says its yoursssss. Everything issss ourssssss for the taking and you cannot claim it."
"I'll be the judge of that."
The cold reply and another stab with the blood sword sent the lizard demon disintegrating in a pile of ash.
The frail child looked at the mess, the skinny arms of the waif hung limply by its side. The knight ground his sharp fangs, could not for the life of him understand why these humans kept producing children, for are they not the bane of the world? They grow up and learn to kill, learn to hate…..
And feed the devils of his kind with that emotion.
A projectile struck at his arm, SHUUSSSK, as he tried to reach down to the child, piercing through his armored plating.
"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HIM, DEMON!"
A human. A woman.
Slowly, he turned half way to get a look at her, fully expecting another assault, half grinned at the opportunity to be challenged by one of those 'brave' humans. This one – a woman, and no doubt a woman who had ties to the child, the thought itself made his blood thump loudly in his ears. A challenge like this only comes so fleetingly. How much is she willing to die for?
Getting a full view of her, she was encased in the half shadows, a part of her long hair reminded him of the molten lava which the temperature was the hottest, but it was her eyes – blazing with furious revenge that got his attention. He didn't bother looking at the rest of her attire. Human clothing was only useful to hide things, keep their vanity or avoid the elements.
Cities were being burned alive, screams behind her were ignored, and the woman came with a vengeance and………..weapons.
He disregarded them as they would be no use, but he'd like to see what she's made of.
Lifting up a finger, sharp talons spiked up to urge her forward and he laughed deeply.
He had watched women get raped, skewered alive, their bodies thrown to the dogs and their cries unheard of again, but this one, this one dared to challenge him. There was fire in her eyes, full of shocking soul that that was what made him laugh.
For the very first time.
"Ladies first." He murmured beneath his devils mask.
She came at him with a kick, flying through the air, first with her arrow piercing through him again and another – coming out of the contraption she held in her hand and he moved as easily, avoiding the next sharp blows. He chuckled darkly, moving away from the kick, just missing by centimeters, watching from the corner of his eye the swift movement of her booted foot, and then another hit him squarely in the face.
He staggered back a little, but it didn't hurt, however it amused him further, giving him time to raise his sword and take a swing at her, not giving it his all.
She avoided that easily, but she grinned at him, her white teeth shined in the semi-dark, the background of flames only illuminated certain areas, causing the shadows to lengthen into their midst.
"I like the rage in you, woman!" he taunted. "Come on, you can do better than that. The fire in your eyes isn't there for nothing."
"Oh I'll do more than that," she said, pushing away from his striking blow with a quick backward jump. "I'm giving you a gift!"
Just before it registered in his mind what she meant, she rushed forward with speed, her hand shoved into his chest – a very powerful magical seal had been placed.
Choking with shock, his eyes glowed brightly, and the memories flooded him, pushing at his mind and tearing it apart – surgeon scissors nipped and cut at his membranes, blood vessels snapped inside, and he howled out a terrible cry.
The Devil Knight fell on his knees before the human woman.
"Got something to say before you're sent back to hell, demon?" she grated out with fury, her hand on his horned head and a large gun placed at his forehead.
His mind was racing, tearing apart bit by bit of all the pain of his past, of the ties he had with his Devil King and the murder beneath his blade by his own hand.
"No." She whispered cruelly. Her porcelain face now in view as the fires burned brightly from an exploding building lit by mixed fuel and malicious hands, giving him a picture perfect of exactly what he was dealing with – frail, looking utterly prevailing because she had managed to get him with his own blood seal. A powerful tactic that he wasn't even privy to understand how she – a mere human could attain this…..
She continued, "I didn't think so. No last words for you then. K, no thanks for coming."
And she pulled the trigger.
The next thing he knew, he was sent spiraling back into time and space. The devil knight was held in a grip hold that couldn't be explained and now as he lay there in the wake of his failure, his first one, the moment came to see that he was back in hell.
He let out a deep howl, which echoed the entire chamber hall of animated horror – chains of dead humans hung on the walls and decorated the ceilings, skeletons stared out to him with empty sockets and the blood red floors vibrated with flowing rich demon blood.
Fisting his hands, he snarled, "If it's the last thing I do…..I'll get that woman."
He shook, his body vibrated with renewed energy, but as he stood from his fall, he gripped his head in his hands as the devil seal on his chest pulsated and pushed him back. And with the seal came her own blood……
With her blood, the devil Knight could feel everything that she was.
Everything she represented.
And he wanted her more than anything he'd ever wanted in his entire existence.
Making his way back to the portal between his world and the other, he ignored the cries around him, the howling agony of sinners who were boiling in melting oil, and the souls who were hung in spiked chains from dead trees that poked at their ashen flesh. Taking each step on the spiraling stairway to the human world, he could only feel the way her memories poked at him – the feel of her skin and the gentle voice as she now held the child in her arms, protecting them from evil…..