Here are some samples of my DMC fanfictions.
This first one comes from my word-prompt series, “A Day in the Life of Dante” from Chapter 32: Surrender. In this chapter, Kyrie goes to Dante for help when Nero is captured by a demon general, and the renowned Devil Hunter makes his way into the Demon Realm to save his mysterious, young relation.
Once his feet firmly hit ground, he opened his eyes, and scanned the area. The ground was marbled with traces of black and white, the sky an eerie blood-red above him. The air seemed to thrum with electricity, smelling strongly of O-zone. Very little made up the landscape here; sharp rock formations jutted out of the ground on either side of a sandy path, black vapour wafting up from geysers that scattered along the way.
Keeping his senses as sharp as possible, Dante made his way down the path, taking note of a large, dilapidated building at the far end of it.
Heaving a sigh, he quickened his steps, knowing full well that another horde of demons awaited him.
Hell, with any luck, maybe I can get some answers out of these ones…if not, at the very least I can have some fun while I'm here.
This next one is also from “A Day in the Life of Dante”. This comes from Chapter 33: Lessons, in which a now teenaged Patty Lowell is being taught the fine art of devil hunting.
It had taken a little more than an hour for the devil hunters to find just the right quarry for their hunter-in-training; once the teenaged girl had picked her weapons-a Beretta M9 and a simple modern sabre-they had made their way to the outskirts of town. After parking his car in a secluded area surrounded by large trees and brush, Dante had led the group down a ravine, crossing a narrow creek which ran into a heavily wooded area.
Overhead, the moon just shone through the canopy of leaves, a light breeze causing them to rustle in the otherwise eerie stillness of the night. The four experienced hunters took up defensive positions; two standing in front of Patty, while the other two stood in the back. If any of the lesser demons lurking in this particular forest were to spring a surprise attack on them, this would ensure the adolescent's safety.
"Trish, you take point." Dante whispered, lagging slightly behind the demoness to remain closer to Patty. He searched the forest, his eyes skimming passed every tree and bush, taking in every leaf, every insect that scurried among the plant stalks.
A familiar prickling sensation ran up the base of his spine, tingling at the back of his neck until the fine hairs stood on end. As if to confirm what he was feeling, he could hear the soft thrum of Nero's Devil Bringer, the demonic arm flashing blue to warn of an imminent threat.
"Lady, come with me." Trish called back to her friend, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. "This group is a little bigger than we thought it would be."
Lady stepped forward, her pistol and submachine gun at the ready. "Guess we'll have to take a few of them out first, before you can get any practice in." Her mismatched eyes met Patty's, the teenager nodding her understanding.
Yet another one from “A Day in the Life of Dante”, from Chapter 38: Flashback. This chapter involves Dante reminiscing over his first meeting with Morrison, an odd-jobs agent who provides cases for him in the DMC Anime.
Dante sat in the far corner of the shabby, hole-in-the-wall bar, close to the entrance. A slight draft came from a small crack in the drywall next to him, the once white paint fading to a dingy yellow, strips of it peeling off of the wall. The low-hanging lamp over his table flickered, the pale yellow circle of light it cast on the worn table reminding the half devil of Morse code.
He kept his head bowed, glancing surreptitiously around the dimly lit bar from beneath a fringe of silvery hair. Being as small as it was, Sydney's bar only had about ten tables, four of which could accommodate four people at a time; the rest were two-seaters. Each table had its own low-hanging lamp, which resembled upside-down tulips of varying colour. Up at the bar itself were eight stools, all secured to the worn black and grey tile that made up the floor, their red leather cushions torn with bits of stuffing sticking out.
Despite its shabby appearance, the bar was relatively clean, and served the best alcohol in the city-not to mention the cheapest.
Smoke hung thick in the air from the opposite corner of the bar, where smoking was permitted. A group of four men were engrossed in a game of poker, cursing and laughing loudly.
The devil hunter swirled the contents of his glass idly, the ice cubes clinking against the pilsner glass as he raised it to his lips. Taking a long swig, he set the mug down with an audible thud, and swiped a sleeve across his mouth, letting out a satisfied sigh.
He draped an arm over the back of his wooden chair, and closed his eyes. He had hoped that a solution to his current predicament would reveal itself once he found solace in drink, but so far, nothing came to him. It wasn't as though what little he spent at the bar would have helped him, anyway. He'd only had two beers and a rum and coke; just enough to ease the tension that had been rising in his chest all day.
But now, he was right back to where he had started; quickly sobering, and without a clue as to how he could get his creditors off of his back.
The half devil was startled out of his thoughts, when another pilsner filled with frothy beer was pushed across the table in front of him. He looked up at the busty middle-aged waitress, his icy blue eyes meeting her light green ones.
"I didn't order this." He remarked, cocking a silver eyebrow at her in confusion.
"It's compliments of the gentleman over there." The short-haired brunette cast a thumb toward the bar, where a man in a long tan trench coat and fedora sat, his back turned to the devil hunter and waitress.
This part comes from a fanfiction I entitled, “When the Devil Hunter is Away, the Demons Will Play”. It was a spin-off of the Chapter “Lessons”, from “A Day in the Life of Dante”.
In this, Nero continues training Patty while Dante and the others are out of town. Unfortunately for the duo, a rather large case falls into their laps, and involves them going it alone without their more experienced cohorts.
Not wasting another second, Patty raced in after him, keeping her weapon at the ready as she entered the darkened building. Her gaze flicked around the room, making out the shape of the long forgotten bar countertop, sweeping passed the shattered, rotting wood of chairs and tables that littered the linoleum floor. Hearing Nero signal to her with a whistle several feet to her left, she turned her head in that direction, and slowly made her way toward him, Karma held in front of her. Nero left her field of vision, passing over the threshold that presumably led into what was once the sports bar's kitchen, Red Queen resting over his left shoulder.
Where the hell did the demon go? Patty wondered. The sound of glass clinking caused her to whip around, her gaze falling on the shelves behind the bar. Before she had time to react, she was knocked over backward by the same claw that had broken the window moments earlier; she let out a pained grunt as the demon's knuckles connected with her cheek, tasting iron when the hit caused her to clamp her teeth down on her tongue.
She tumbled over backward, Karma flying from her hands as she crashed into the edge of one of the tables, the sound of splintering wood meeting her ears as a pained cry tore from her throat.
She heard Nero shouting her name, the teen momentarily dazed as black and white spots danced in her vision, obscuring her view of the demon bearing down on her. She tried to move, only to realize that her arm was stuck in the wood of the table she'd fallen against, buried to the elbow in the splintered wood.
The scent of its rancid breath washed over her face, choking her, the creature mere seconds away from sinking its fangs into the trainee hunter. The unmistakable sound of Blue Rose firing met her ears, followed by an agonized shriek from the demon as it drew back.
As her vision cleared, Patty watched as Nero continued his assault against the devil, swapping his double-barreled revolver for his sword in a quick, fluid motion. He thrust the durandal forward, piercing the armoured chest of the lanky quadruped before performing an upward stroke that sent it flying backward, green blood squirting from the deep gash in its breastbone.
Frantically looking at the floor around her, Patty finally spotted Karma on the far side of the room, several paces away from where Nero was finishing the demon off.
Lastly, an excerpt from my current project; this is the fanfiction I adopted, titled “The Order of Sparda”. In this story, Nero is undercover, infiltrating the forces of Mundus, the Demon King. Here, he is forced to take action against a group of human rebels.
Nero stopped dead in his tracks, his squad doing the same as they followed his gaze over the horizon. Black plumes of smoke drifted over the port, so thick that Nero had trouble seeing down the usually arid breezeway separating Port Caerula from Fortuna's former Residential District.
"Remember your orders," he commanded the troops, his gaze flicking over the twenty assembled soldiers, "capture only. Captain Orias, take the lead."
"Yes sir," The Captain obliged, turning to his charges. "You heard the General; move out!" he barked.
Nero steeled himself at the ripple of power that coursed through the surrounding demons, each one of them calling upon their true forms with an enthusiastic battle cry. If not for the fact that he remained in his devil form, the electrical current of energy assuredly would have knocked him clear off of his feet.
As the soldiers rushed into the fray, Nero flanked them, casting a furtive glance all around as he cleared the breezeway. The smoke was much thicker here, coiling like a great, black serpent all around him. An eerie, orange glow refracted off of the smoke, the intense heat stinging the part devil's eyes as the flames licked across the gasoline-drenched docks. He was so busy trying to locate the focal point of the battle, he nearly didn't see the flames closing in behind him.
Feeling the heat intensifying at the backs of his legs, Nero dove forward into a somersault, clearing the flames just as they closed the gap between him and the breezeway. Peering around, he realized that he'd lost sight of his troops. Heaving a sigh, he slowly made his way down the concrete walkway, pondering his next course of action as he went.
Well, so much for Plan A. But on the other hand…
Now that he was separated from his squad, he just might be able to get a more candid look at the revolutionaries laying siege to the Port. Now all he had to do was locate them in the chaos they'd created…
Just another cakewalk, He mused, wrinkling his nose at the pungent aroma the gasoline gave off as it drifted up from the piers. The rebels had no doubt used it to light the fuses in their handmade explosives-probably Molotov cocktails, Nero figured. Just about anyone-however amateur-could be taught to make one.
Seeing that the flames showed no signs of lessening, he bolted toward the loading dock-or so he hoped that's where he was headed. With visibility being at an all-time low, he'd be lucky if he didn't run clear off the dock, and straight into the water!
As the sounds of the scuffle got louder, he was certain he was headed in the right direction. Edging toward the mixed shouts of his soldiers and the human rebels, he let out a sigh of relief when his foot came into contact with the ramp leading toward the loading area. Slowly making his way down the slick wood, he could just make out the faces of human and demon alike, the opposing factions fighting just on the far side of the look-out tower.
Well, that’s all for now. I just figured they’d be decent examples to go with. There’s plenty more where that came from. Some of my chapters-particularly in “A Day in the Life of Dante”-are a bit rougher, but aside from knowing they could use improvement, I’m still quite proud of the progress I’ve made.