Devil May Cry Vergil Memes Novels & Stories

He stared at them, the memory of Lucifer's voice echoing inside his head. WEAK PATHETIC One of the demons stepped closer. "You look worse than usual." Another smirked. "Maybe the devil has finally realized his mistake." Lucas's expression darkened. The humiliation surged through him again. Lucifer lifting him in the air. The choking. The pain. The laughter. The words. WEAK UNFIT TO RULE HELL. A MISTAKE. The demons kept talking. But Lucas barely heard them anymore. Something inside him snapped. A dark force erupted outward from his body.

“Maybe the Moon Goddess is finally punishing you. That’s why she cursed you with an impure wolf as a mate. Mark my words, Arthur. Ava will destroy you one day.” Rage surged through me, and the devil Alpha within clawed to the surface. My claws extended, glinting in the dim light. “If that’s the case, you won’t live to see it.” His screams echoed through the dungeon as I tore into him, my claws ripping through his flesh. I made sure he felt every ounce of pain till he was almost dead. Finally, I gripped his head with both hands and, with a single twist, tore it from his shoulders.

His screams of pain sound musical. It’s not enough. He needs to bleed more. He needs to feel more pain. “This…this is what you…really are,” he groans, going down on all fours. Blood flows from his mouth in a steady stream, pooling under him. His eye cuts to me. He’s still smiling. “You’re a fucking monster Vincent. A devil. You put…you put our father in this same hospital. Beat him within an inch of his life. And now you’re doing same to me,”

The baby stirred, a calm, steady pulse. Aunt Dee watched quietly from a distance, understanding settling into her expression. The ancestors’ voices echoed one last time through the realm: “The devil’s greatest act of defiance is not destruction— It is devotion.” Far away, the hunters drew closer. But for the first time since the prophecy began, Malik knew exactly where he stood. And he would not move.

His eyes were dark and completely without expression. "My name is Alaric Virelli," he said, as though he expected that to mean something to me, as though his name was supposed to settle everything. "I don't care who you are," I said. "I am not going anywhere with you." Dorian grabbed my arm again and this time he yanked me toward him so hard that I stumbled. He got his face close to mine and his eyes were ugly with something I recognized after a moment as desperation. Not anger. Desperation. He needed this. Whatever this was, he needed it badly enough to drag me out of the house in the rain and hand me over to strangers.