Whoo, another DMC fic...cept I don't really know what this is going to turn out to be. I only have a battle set up for this thing so far so it could end up a one shot, few chapters, thing. I don't know. In any case, I would appreciate the reviews.
Here's the first chap
Enjoy,
One Will Fall
Chap 1: Drowning In the Flood
Dante sat miserably at his desk, absently tossing a balled up piece of paper across his office. It hit the rim of the waste basket near the wall and landed with a small splash in the flooded room, joining the dozen or so shots the hunter had already missed. He sighed and grabbed another paper off his desk; crumpled it and took aim, the basket drifting away from the door.
Thunder rolled loudly outside DMC.
Dante groaned and flicked the ball into the garbage; turning to the battery powered radio, tuned almost permanently to static, and moved the dial without much hope of finding a clear station.
Nothing.
Dante growled and smashed the off button, realizing even if the stations were clear and the volume was on full blast, he still wouldn't be able to hear it over the torrential rain sheeting down outside.
It had been raining heavily and non-stop for days. The clouds had burst open unexpectedly, releasing torrents of rain that swept through the city, turning the streets into rushing rivers that pulled away any and all things that dared to move into their path. The depths of water had grown so much that a current had formed that was almost strong enough to drag away an eighteen wheeler.
Ground floors of buildings were flooded and power and telephone poles were ripped down, destroying communications. Radio waves were scrambled and receivers mostly gave off static. The sewers had quickly given up their battle with the rain and were now backed up, giving the constant downpour the only option to pool in the streets.
The city was in almost complete darkness. The power had been flickering on and off in places and had completely gone out in parts of the city where the lines had been broken. There was no sun and no moonlight to see by. It was eternally night.
Occasionally thunder would crack violently and long lighting bolts would split the sky, but the light was only momentary; blink and it was gone.
No one dared go outside and not just because of the pouring rain. A haze hung low over the city from the thick, dark clouds overhead as the rain hit the ground and steamed up into a fog. It was easy to get lost in the raging storm.
Dante had never minded the rain before, but now he was beside himself with boredom. He'd been sitting in the darkness of his office for days and was running out of old paper work to toss into the garbage. He was also tired of watching the short flames of the candles dance their feeble light around the room.
The devil hunter missed electricity and the bright neon glow of the sign outside his office. Devil May Cry just wasn't the same without it. Somehow, with it off, Dante felt just like everybody else. He'd always been different, but without the sign lit up, nobody would ever know it. Devil May Cry was just another darkened building sheltering someone from the storm.
"Oh no you don't," said Dante, pulling his desk back as it began to float away from him in the almost knee deep water that had flooded into DMC the second day of the storm. He propped his legs up on the top, trying to keep it in place but put himself off balance and his chair tilted back, sending him splashing into the grungy water.
He came up sputtering.
"FUCK!" he yelled, at the same time hearing another loud rumble outside, which he took to be thunder. "Will this shit never end?"
He stood angrily, shaking as much water as he could out of his hair, and peeled off his jacket and shirt.
"Great, just fuckin wonderful," he griped, trying to decide where he should put his clothes to dry-as if there was any place.
In an instant he was back under the water, diving for cover from a motorcycle bursting through the doors to Devil May Cry. He heard the echo of the crash underwater and rose up, eyes blazing and coughing up water, mixed with god knows what.
"Does nobody know how to fucking knock anymore?" he growled, "Is there a goddamn sign on my fucking door that says 'Break down door with motorcycle-then enter'?"
Dante saw the motorcycle, the smashed desk and then the man standing in the doorway, seemingly unperturbed by the raging storm behind him or the angry devil hunter.
"I am merely keeping with tradition, son of Sparda," smirked the tall man, his face hanging in shadow.
"Son of Sparda," Dante frowned, "Don't you think that's a little formal...Brother?" His eyes narrowed at the last word.
Vergil smiled and waded into the room. "You do not seem to be very surprised to see me, Dante. I must say I was looking forward to more shock from you."
Dante scowled, folding his arms against the cold wind that was rushing into DMC. "Oh I'm surprised," he said, glaring around the room for his discarded jacket or shirt, "I'm just a lot more fucking pissed right now, so you can't tell."
"I see," Vergil mused, watching Dante's jacket float by out the corner of his eye, "You did not enjoy your little swim, then?"
Dante glowered, irritably brushing aside wet strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes. "No," he grumbled, "I like diving into sewer water. It's my new hobby. What's a pain in the ass, though, is having my office destroyed by you and this fucking weather."
Vergil let his eyes fall around the room and back outside. The storm was still going strong. "Pity," he said, without much emotion, "I had hoped to set the mood for my return. It is a shame my work is not being appreciated."
"Your work?" Dante asked, stunned, "You did this? You made the storm?"
Vergil frowned, "That is what I was implying, yes."
"But why?"
The taller white-haired man sighed. "Must I point out the obvious to you, Brother?" He stepped closer to Dante, his face coming more into view. His pale eyes were narrowed and his mouth was set in a scowl. "Are you too thick to notice the loathing I possess for you? Do you not realize how much I despise you?" Dante watched him silently. "Allow me to make this clearer for you, Brother."
Vergil suddenly rammed his fist hard into Dante's stomach, causing the devil hunter to cough and keel over. As he was falling, Vergil brought his knee to Dante's face, making his nose bleed freely.
The moment his brother's head had gone below the surface of the water, Vergil stepped on Dante's neck, keeping him under. He watched the devil hunter thrashing to get free and smiled. He wasn't going to kill his brother yet-not in this manner, but he was at least going to enjoy himself for a while.
"Are you beginning to understand my feelings for you dear Brother?" he asked, reaching down and pulling his brother up by the hair; at the same time, not really caring if Dante had heard his question.
Dante gasped loudly, his chest heaving frantically to draw in air. The moment he inhaled, Vergil shoved his head back under, his body convulsing as water rushed into his lungs. The devil hunter coughed and jerked around, breathing in more water with every gasp. The taller man laughed and held him under for a while before finally yanking him up again and tossing him towards the broken desk and motorcycle.
A thick piece of broken wood from the desk impaled Dante's shoulder as he came crashing down on the pile, but his cry was muffled by the choking water in his throat and lungs. He fell over, barking, nearly ready to collapse from lack of oxygen. His head hung low near the water as he kept trying to breath.
Vergil scowled and walked towards Dante, roughly grabbing his upper arm to pull him up. Once again he brought his fist to Dante's abdomen, causing Dante to vomit and spit up the rest of the water in his lungs.
He dropped him, disgusted and wrenched out the stake in Dante's shoulder, none to gently. Dante gave a mixture of a gasp and a cry of pain and fall back to his hands and knees, panting and trying to regain normal breathing.
"Ba....bastard," Dante snarled, a little nasally as he staggered to his feet, still slightly dizzy from the near drowning. He wiped his bleeding nose.
"So you have noticed," Vergil said impassively, watching Dante favoring his shoulder. "We are both bastards, but I do hope my hatred is more apparent to you now."
"Yeah," Dante said, seething, "I think I get it."
Vergil nodded and strode towards the door, "Now we will finish this, Brother."
Dante gritted his teeth and dug a hand into the water, pulling out his drenched jacket and shirt. The clothing felt surprisingly warm against his frozen flesh as he carefully put them on, mindful of his shoulder wound. He splashed water in his face to clear away the blood oozing from his nose and snatched Alastor off the wall, stepping up beside his brother.
"Let's."
Okay, like I said, I don't know what this is but there should at least be a few more chapters to it. Who knows? I may end up coming up with a plot after all and not just rely on battles.
If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to tell me
Anyway, please review and tell me what you think.
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