Chapter Text
April 1st
It began with an unidentified corpse, strung up on the doors of the Devil May Cry office. Their arms were splayed out like a crucified sinner, toes barely touching the ground. Even the gender of this corpse was indeterminable, as the skin of this body was absent. In fact, it was a few steps away already from being a skeleton. Needless to say, this was an unpleasant morning for the office’s sole inhabitant, Dante.
Since police had already been called to the front of his house, he had to crawl outside through one of his windows, like a grounded teenager sneaking out of the house. He didn’t get more than a few feet away before the officers pulled him aside for questioning. Though, luckily, his saving grace came in the form of a well dressed woman with prominent eyes: Lady. Connected as ever, she untangled him out of the yellow tape, and swiftly began her own questioning.
“How long has that corpse been outside of your office?” she asked him from the driver’s seat of an expensive car.
“Don’t know jack about anything, so you can give up on trying to pry anything out of me right now,” he swiftly replied.
“Do you know why someone would deface your office front? Anyone you pissed off as of late?”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I got no info for you!”
“Then, this is where you get off the ride. My taxi ain’t free, you know.” The pair just so happened to be in the middle of a freeway, and Lady was not one to exaggerate.
“And here I was thinking you were doing this out of care for your coworker…”
“Since when have I given out freebies?”
Dante shifted in his seat to lean forward, letting out a groan as his back popped with the movement. Such behavior was to be expected for her. She should ditch her devil hunting job and become a conman.
“Well, at around midnight I heard some pretty loud sounds. Definitely sounded like a dude nailing something to my door, but I was drunk out of my mind so I didn’t care to go chase whoever it was off.”
“Very in character for you to dismiss suspicious activity out of being too intoxicated to care, Dante. Anything else?”
“The perp totally knew I was awake, ‘cause I had all my lights on. Slipped this gross little note under my door, too.” He reached into his inner pocket and unfolded a dirty and crumpled piece of paper, likely ripped from a notebook. In a nonchalant voice, he read:
“'Dear Mister Dante, you are invited to Walpurga’s Mass, on the date of April 30th.You have already been RSPV’d.’ All written in this half-illegible cursive handwriting and smudged to all hell.” He promptly shoved the paper back into his pocket once finished.
“Sounds interesting. No location listed? No signature?”
“Nope. Just this awfully self assured statement and some dubious stains.”
“Then, we’ve got a month to prepare for whatever this Walpurga business is. Anything else you know?”
“…” Dante averted his gaze to the windows, stewing over whatever he had to say for a moment. Lady raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she waited for her passenger to reply.
“The guy who left the letter was a demon. A real weak one on that, weak enough that I almost didn’t pick up on them.”
“You think it was a Scarecrow or a Marionette or something that was sent as a proxy for the real mastermind?”
“No, they were even weaker than a scarecrow. Actually, they were practically human, I had to go out of my way to pay extra close attention to the scent to even pick up on it.”
The two sat in silence, both processing the information. On the surface, you’d assume this was a half dead grunt demon hobbling along, carrying along a note by a violent master. But if that was the case, there was no way it’d have the capability to use tools, or have the strength to hang the corpse on its own. For it to be comparable to a human meant it must have been feeble and moments away from dying.
Thus, the implied meaning of Dante’s observation: whatever demon was behind this was so strong they could nearly perfectly conceal their power and disguise themselves as human.
————
April 2nd
The Order Knight’s morning call skills really needed to be worked on. He found himself awake at an ungodly hour when a whole squad of them rapped on his door, waking him and Kyrie up. As the more sociable one, she opted to get up and see what the commotion was in his stead, but was pretty quickly sent back up with an expression that read “you’re going to want to see this.”
He quickly found himself in agreement when faced with the door of his garage. Crucified on the shutters was the defaced corpse of a rather large person, seemingly freshly killed judging by the blood that painted nearly all of the metal a muddy red. What was it with his garage and being the source of traumatic incidents?
As if that wasn’t enough, one of the knights handed him a crumpled note found at the scene, apparently addressed to him.
“Dear Nero, you are invited to Walpurga’s Mass on the date of April 30th. You have already been RSVP’d”
He was seriously going to deck whatever freak wrote this down.
The Knights were stubborn with their questioning, not letting up in their persistent spontaneous interrogation until they decided Nero wasn’t worth their time, and hauled the body back to HQ, leaving Kyrie and him to clean up the bloody mess that still remained. Even after reform, it seemed the Knights behind assholes was an irrefutable constant.
As Kyrie hauled out pails of water and made sure none of the kids were woken up in the commotion, Nero scrubbed harshly at the deeply stained garage door. The perp apparently nailed the damn corpse to the door, so prominent holes resided where hands and feet used to be. He hoped that was a repairable thing, since buying a new door was a little outside the budget.
“What a nightmare…” he muttered as Kyrie sat down with the water buckets at his side. Slowly, she tucked aside his hair, tying it back into a ponytail. At her request, he grew it out extra long, which wasn’t too difficult to do with his hyperactive devil genes. Now his hair reached the middle of his back, while Kyrie had done quite the opposite and cut her hair into a short bob.
“You can say that again. It looks like most of the guck is gone, I’ll take over for you,” Kyrie stated more than offered, as he handed over the sponge and let her more thorough and diligent hands do the finishing touches. Despite the exasperated tone, Kyrie didn’t seem the slightest bit affected by the scenario. Nero appreciated her ability to stay level headed and unphased, god knows it saved him many times, but even this must take a toll on her sanity— even if she didn’t show it.
“This letter’s seriously freaky, did some occultist write it?” he uttered, rereading the grimy note again in his head.
“Not quite occult, but religious definitely,” Kyrie remarked, “Walpurga is a saint observed by a different church, who wards against magic of all things. April 30th is actually Walpurgisnacht, but it’s not observed in our country really...”
Ever since the savior incident, Kyrie had totally devoted herself to studying all sorts of religious and spiritual stuff for reasons that eluded him. In fact, she’d even started learning some witchcraft from V— which led to some confusing looking sigils showing up in their house. Nero wasn’t sure what most of them did, but knew the spell to separate liquids from cloth by heart.
“Now that you say that, it’s probably no coincidence they strung the poor victim up like a saint. You think it’s an actual religious quack, or someone using the aesthetic for kicks?” he asked while handing the letter off to Kyrie who finished with the door. She took a long look at the letter with a focused expression, eyebrows pinched as even she struggled to parse the handwriting.
“I doubt it’s anyone actually religious, and if it was it would certainly be an extremist. But regardless of the person, the intent is clear:”
Kyrie looked at him with a pained, worried expression that Nero hoped he wouldn’t ever have to see on her face again.
“Whoever wrote this wants to harm you, Nero.”
——
April 3rd
In a small, one-bath-one-bed flat, Trish took up a seat on an antique rocking chair, teetering dangerously back.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your appearance?” asked V, pouring her a cup of tea on the table just before them.
V was a frail girl, so frail she couldn’t stand for more than a few moments at a time and was thus bound to a wheelchair. Her body couldn’t even produce enough fluids on its own to keep her alive, so she was always hooked up to IV bags with thin tubes like a supercomputer. Despite this, she was awfully active, much more than the shut-in named Vergil whom she shared an apartment with.
“There’s been a bit of a phenomenon going around, where a corpse gets nailed to someone’s door, arms splayed out besides them. You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?” Trish interrogated, leaning forward to take her teacup. After a long sip of her own tea, V responded.
“Why, yes, in fact. Something exactly matching that happened just this morning, I only just got done cleaning the mess shortly before you came.”
“Really? And not a single cop bugged you about it?”
“I woke up just as the culprit finished their business and scurried off, so there weren’t any police on duty to pester me.”
“How convenient. Dante wasn’t so lucky.”
“It seemed Nero wasn’t either, he complained to me a bit earlier on his upsetting wake up call.”
“I see. Poor shmuck. Did you get any letters accompanying your surprise gift?”
“Indeed I did. A note about a special mass on the 30th of April to which Vergil was invited, which I imagine the other two also received?”
“Yep.”
The two went silent, as they each paused to reach for one of the scones V had set out. The whole time, Trish didn’t let her eyes leave her host, eyes sharp behind her sunglasses.
“You wanna show me the note?”
“Vergil has it at the moment, so I’d have to ask her.”
“Can you tell Vergil to come here?”
“Not at the moment, I don’t want to disturb her while she’s busy.”
They fell silent again, as V nonchalantly took another sip from her cup. She made an almost cartoonish gesture of tilting her head back with the cup, setting it down and staring Trish down as well.
“You think Vergil had something to do with this, don’t you?” questioned V, without much accusation behind her voice. Of all people, Vergil was an easy suspect.
“She’s got a pretty bad track record. This occulty, ritual sacrifice seems like her kind of jam.”
“And you hope to extract information about it from me. As an extension of Vergil, would I not be her accomplice? What do you hope to gain from asking me?”
“Was hoping to catch you in a lie, if I’m honest.”
“I appreciate you being up front about it.”
The two took another sip from their cups, finally breaking the stare they were locked into. Trish idly stared out the window, while V looked at the coffee table.
“You won’t let her off the hook if I say she didn’t have anything to do with this, will you?”
“Maybe if you offer up a more likely culprit, I’ll think about it.”
V swirled her tea around, considering the question for a moment before finishing what was left, setting it back down onto its saucer. Trish swiftly refilled the cup before V could make a movement to do so herself.
“Would help me to know a little more of the culprit's qualities in that case.”
“All we know right now is that the one at your door was a demon with a particularly hard to detect presence.”
“A demon? Are you sure?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I have quite a few wards set up around this flat, unlike Dante. A demon shouldn’t even be able to enter this building, much less appear at my doorstep. The same applies for Nero.”
“…How interesting.”
Trish narrowed her eyes at V, who averted her eyes once again. Such an observation absolutely incriminated Vergil further, as she would be the only demon able to enter the boundaries of Nero’s house, but V was far too smart to make a fatal slip up such as that. Unless she wasn’t. Trish kept the thought in mind for later.
“Well, I did have a theory that it was an immensely powerful demon who could hide its presence. Perhaps they were able to sidestep even your borders?” Trish continued, choosing to sidestep that conclusion for now.
“Perhaps. I’d have to brush up on my political knowledge to sleuth out which demon would be likely to do that. But there’s a more important question to be asked here.”
“And that would be?”
“What does the demon hope to gain with this stunt?”
“Maybe a ritual for power, or domination, or something.”
“Rituals are specific about sacrifices, from placing to preparation and method of killing. I’m sure you’ll trust that I know there’s no such ritual that requires a setup such as this, but feel free to research for yourself.”
“Then, an intimidation tactic of sorts, to psyche the recipients out and have them paranoid.”
“And why would Vergil need something like that?”
“…Fair point.”
Another long pause for a sip of tea.
“I believe you should be more concerned about the letters than the corpses. If anything, those bodies are just power flaunting. I get a more sinister feeling from those invitations.”
“I’d agree there, for sure. Kyrie has been bugging me like crazy about whatever Walpurga’s Mass is supposed to be.”
“Perhaps we should all meet to discuss it then?”
“Ah, that’s the other reason I came here actually. Lady wanted to get all the info straight, so she’s inviting everyone to a big meeting. That includes you and Vergil.”
“Even though we’re suspects?”
“Can’t hurt to have our eyes on you.”
“Then, I suppose I’m obligated to appear.”
———
April 5th
“Keep your gross feet off the table!” Nero yelled at a far too laid back Dante. The old man scoffed but obliged anyway, leaning forward on his elbows instead.
In total, eight people squeezed into the tight living room of Kyrie’s house, though that would’ve been nine if Vergil had shown up. V claimed that Vergil’s schedule just didn’t line up with the meeting date they agreed with, which spurred some suspicious looks among the group but went uncommented on. It was a Monday, so thankfully all the kids were out at school.
At the table sat herself and her fiancée, Nico, Lady, Trish, Dante, V, and Lucia. Though the final participant seemed to have no skin in the game, Dante insisted she was invited due to her comprehensive demon history knowledge. With such an explosive combination of people, Kyrie naturally confiscated all weaponry and held it captive at the door.
“So, Lady, you said you had an update about the situation?” said Kyrie, giving the meeting an unofficial start. Lady looked away with an uncharacteristically dark expression, but continued.
“I got info on one of the cadavers, specifically the one on Dante’s door. Based on the dental records, the autopsy found that…” she trailed off. Nico looked like she was about to ask her to finish, but Dante filled in for her.
“Heine Arkham. Notably, a guy that’s been dead for over twenty years.” The name Arkham was immediately familiar as Lady’s last name. Though she didn’t know the most about Lady’s personal life, it was pretty easy to guess who that might have been to her. Lady’s eyes were laser focused on V, who had no commentary.
“A twenty year old corpse… But didn’t he look freshly murked?” asked Nico, somewhat untactfully. Trish responded swiftly, though, with little emotion.
“My guess is that the perp resurrected him, then killed him again shortly after. Resurrections of humans usually don’t produce tasteful results, but since the criminal was seemingly going to kill him again anyways, that wouldn’t really matter.
Additionally, Arkham had some demonic power in him when he died. They probably utilized that for the revival, though they would’ve needed at least a little of his original remains. Where they found that is the big question.”
At this, Nero visibly stiffened. They had yet to receive autopsy results for the mess at their door, and had no idea what to expect. At the words “demonic power,” Nero’s eyes widened. He leaned over to Kyrie and in a low whisper asked,
“Do you think…”
She responded, “Don’t come to any conclusions yet.”
V finally decided to throw in her own information, clearing her throat before speaking.
“I’m unsure if this is useful information, but I did my own autopsy on my corpse through other means to find it was one former CEO of that pharmaceutical company, Ouroboros. His name was Arius, I believe.”
At this, Lucia choked on her own drink, spurring Dante on to pat her back as she coughed vehemently. Kyrie knew less about Lucia than she did Lady, but the pattern was becoming clear.
“This killer’s got some awful taste,” Dante uttered before getting up to grab Lucia some paper towels. However, the girl regained her composure quickly, clearing her throat before speaking again.
“If we’re under the assumption that the corpses relate to who received them, then why pin Arius to V’s wall and not mine directly?” Lucia spoke with a professional level of detachment, despite the incident before.
“Not a clue. Though, do you have any evidence of your autopsy, V?” Lady asked, bringing the whole room’s attention to the girl.
“You don’t trust my results? I’m sure you know I’m the most talented witch in the room.”
“I know that very well.”
The implication wasn’t spoken, but everyone caught on quickly. V didn’t speak a word, eyes locked with Lady’s firmly. Even Nero, who had grown so amicable with her in the past few months, looked on with an air of disappointment and anger.
Suddenly, Kyrie felt compelled to speak.
“It’s possible the criminal wanted to kill two birds with one stone: involve V and Vergil, and involve Lucia.”
The attention suddenly shifted to her, an air of confusion hovering over the room.
“…My guess as to why you’d both be involved is that the perpetrator is going after people connected to the Sa— er— Sparda, or at least his relatives. That’s a pretty common motive for demons isn’t it?”
Lady raised an eyebrow to this proposition, tilting her head in regards to her. She shuffled a little under the intense two-toned gaze, but continued.
“Though, in this situation I guess we’d rather work with certain evidence, right? Still, I would rather explore all situations than immediately believe what looks the most true. For now, let’s wait till the final body is identified, and work from there.”
Under her breath, Trish uttered a barely audible “well spoken,” and everyone’s gazed scattered once more, contemplating the theory. They didn’t call her the “ultimate mediator” for nothing.
“Man, Dante’s been taking his time getting those paper towels. Did he fall out a window or something?” Nero offhandedly commented, leaning over to peer into the kitchen separated by a wall.
“I’ll go bring him back. I’m the one who needed the paper towels after all…” Lucia sighed, sitting up from her seat. Though, as soon as she looked into the kitchen, she turned back with a confused expression.
“He’s… not there?” The girl looked back and forth between the living room and kitchen a few more times to be certain, but it seemed Dante really had disappeared.
“Damn that flaky old man! He’s no better than his sister…” Nero grumbled, storming past Lucia and into the kitchen.
“That’s funny… The window’s still locked…”
Trish and Lady were soon also in the kitchen, leaving herself, Nico, and V in the room. Kyrie decided that this sort of situation was out of her wheelhouse, and elected to stay behind. Her attention was swiftly grabbed by V clearing her throat, spooking Nico as well.
“On my autopsy,” V murmured, like she was letting the two of them in on a secret, “It was more of a divination, with the body as a conduit. The thing was entirely charred by the end, making identifying it impossible at this point.”
“What an unfortunately crazy-suspicious sounding excuse…” Nico remarked, voice skeptical.
“I imagine having a body at all is promising for your case, though, even if it’s charred…” Kyrie followed up, but was quickly shot down by V.
“But who’s to say I didn’t go dig up a new body?”
Indeed, all evidence pointed to V and Vergil, and V herself seemed painfully aware of that. Even if there was no apparent motive, or reason to the crimes, it was far too easy to link everything back to her. Lady and the others, who were all too familiar with Vergil’s inhumane scheming, accepted it easily. Even Kyrie was having a hard time defending the woman in her own head.
Suddenly, Nero’s agitated voice reached the living room, the man swearing as he stormed back into the room. The others followed in behind him, climbing through the open window hurriedly. Without warning, he grabbed V by the collar, roughly holding her up.
“Nero, what are you doing!” Kyrie exclaimed, running over to calm him down, but Lady obstructed her path.
“What’s your issue dude! Put her down before you hurt her!” Nico jumped in, gripping Nero by his shoulders. Even if she suspected V, she was her friend— a close one at that.
But Nero didn’t stop, even at V’s pained expression. Ignoring Kyrie and Nico’s pleas, he yelled words that made all three of them speechless.
“You bastard…
Explain to me, why is Dante decapitated outside my fucking house?!”