Devil May Cry Creatures Novels & Stories

“We are not exactly on the same level.” “I notice you just carefully avoided giving me a real answer,” I say. “Ask something else,” he suggests, his tone telling me to drop it. For now. “What exactly do they market here?” I ask. “Demon creatures from Hell. The kind of things that bounce around between Hell and Earth mostly unseen and unheard.” “Like the kelpies until they band together for a drunk fest?”

They were aligning frequency and waiting. “They’re confident,” I said. “They’re theatrical,” Dominic corrected. “Different flaw.” “Do we answer?” “We do,” he said. “Together.” The projection formed, unlike the Crownbreaker silhouette, this one showed a face. Mid-forties. Serene expression. Medical calm. The kind that makes people confess things they didn’t plan to say. “Dominic Voss,” the woman said warmly. “And Elara Quinn. I appreciate the simultaneous audience.” “You purchased stolen pathway metadata,” Dominic replied. No greeting. No cushioning.

Subject line: “You Asked for the Devil” The file was massive. Raphael stood behind me, watching as I clicked open layer after layer. Lucian Damian Devlin. Born in Austria. Raised in Switzerland. Fluent in five languages. Educated in private institutions under aliases. Trained in weapons, finance, manipulation. Current occupation: CEO of Devlin Global Holdings. Unofficially: Heir and now head of the Devlin Cartel — a billion-dollar empire of drugs, trafficking, and global political influence. I scrolled, the blood draining from my face.

DOOM’S POV My shoulder still throbbed like a bastard, but I refused to let it show. I swapped my usual suits for a simple black shirt and a pair of tailored shorts, unbuttoned just enough to tease. It was warm tonight, and Sally liked casual Doom, something about seeing the devil without armor made her smile, maybe because it made her feel closer. The dining room lights were dimmed low, casting a golden warmth across the mahogany table. Candlelight flickered beside the fine china, and soft instrumental jazz hummed from the walls. I had told the staff to stay far away, tonight was ours.

All three demons recoiled at once, as if an explosion had shoved them back. I saw fear in their eyes. Demons. Creatures of the underworld who fear nothing and no one. They were afraid of the disfigured omega who, five seconds earlier, had been a trembling bundle against a tree. Emili stood. But not the way a person stands. She *unfolded,* like a shadow stretching in reverse — fluid, unnatural. Her mouth opened, and a sound came out that was neither human nor animal: a deep hiss vibrating on frequencies that made every hair on my body stand on end.

He asked. Kira sighed. He was constantly asking the same question over and over again and she was getting tired of answering him. "The Creatures cursed by the sun will come and they will be the cause of our extinction which is why I believe your men were killed by them cause they're here already." "They are allegedly known as the night crawlers, anything other than that I do not know. I do not know how they look or what they do or what their powers are." She explains. Damine kept quiet for a while processing all her words. "How do you know all of this?" He asked.

If he does not see what faintly strides through the dark night. So he turns again. He does not come to full view. He watches the figure move like the zombies from the video game. It was how the Apocalypse begins. First, a single zombie is seen raiding the streets but just as humans think they had it under control, a pack would lash out of a corner, charging towards them. No! Don't think that. Zombies are not real.

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.

He cursed under his breath. At first prince Arthur couldn't take his eyes off the red ones peering at him, it was as if he has been glued to those flaming eyes, but that spell lost it effect on him the moment he heard another growl from the massive creature laying on the floor with an arrow stuck in his heart. ‘ isn't this what they call caught between the devil and the deep blue sea?, but then no matter how beautiful the sea might appear, the devil you know is far better.’ “Ahhhhhhhh"

Lucian looked at his own hand. “I didn’t even do anything.” Veyron’s face became grim. “You did.” Lucian looked at him. “You erased it.” Lucian stared at the Devourer. The creature was trembling. “You’re afraid.” The Devourer backed away. “You shouldn’t exist.” Lucian took a step forward. “Neither should you.” The Devourer suddenly opened its mouths. Thousands of black creatures poured from its body. Wolves. Demons. Serpents. Dead warriors.