003 [Dream]
The setting seemed peaceful enough. Vergil stood there, an empty field behind him. The wind was kicking up now, making his hair fall into his face. He would never admit it, but he really did look like Dante whenever that happened.
“Vergil!” A feminine voice called out behind him. Vergil turned and saw a beautiful blonde woman behind him. She wore a long black skirt, with a white button down and a red overcoat. The wind was whipping around them as he just stared.
“Mother?” He spoke breathlessly. She smiled warmly at him, just like any mother would, and motioned for him to come towards her. He instantly obeyed, and she leaned towards her eldest son. It seemed like she was about to kiss his cheek, but instead she leaned into his ear.
“If only you were stronger.” Her body eroded into a corpse, collapsing into his arms. What…did she mean by that? Was she talking about that night? She must have been. It was his fault. If he had been stronger, she would have lived. They would have still been a family.
He didn’t make motion to move, he just stared, clinging to the bones of his long dead mother. He could feel his heart beating in his ears. What was going on here? This…this wasn’t right.
He couldn’t concentrate on this thought much longer though, a purely evil laughter started to rumble and shake the very ground he was standing on. His peaceful field was now collapsing, a deep crack now cut through the middle of it, into the very bowels of Hell itself. He leaped backwards, trying to escape the fiery pits but a black shadow wrapped it’s way around his leg, and up to his waist.
He felt his body slam into the ground. His vision was blurred now as his nails groped at the ground, trying to keep himself from being pulling into the giant crack in the earth. That sinister laugh started to shake though his eardrums again, a pair of boots crushing his hand under them. Vergil growled as his head shot up, who he saw made him speechless.
His father, Sparda, standing in front of him. The devil cackled, flipping the all too familiar katana in his hand. “You are weak boy.” He pointed the blade in his son’s face. “The Devil’s blood I gave you cannot cure that.”
Vergil bared his fangs, his eyes turning red on black as he stared at his estranged father. He wanted to kill this man, he wanted to rip his throat out. He wanted to prove he wasn’t weak. Between the shadow claws in his leg and foot on his arm, he couldn’t move. “You couldn’t protect them then, why even try now.”
Vergil spat which earned him a kick right to the face. The force was enough to push him onto his back, his body slowly being pulling towards Hell. It was quiet now, he couldn’t hear Sparda’s voice. Vergil opened his eyes, and stared at his twin now. “D-Dante?”
His brother was silent as he cut the shadows off of Vergil. The oldest just stared at his younger brother as he stood up.
Where had he come from?
“I’m stronger now, Vergil.” Dante looked at his brother, with cold eyes. “I don’t need you pushing me around anymore.”
Vergil’s voice failed him, as his mouth started to fill with blood. The red liquid spilled out the side of his mouth, and onto his clothes and soon the dirt. He looked down; his heart gashed wide open with Rebellion. This was the end for him, wasn’t it?
ooc:Action or prose is fine! it was just easier to write this way.