The Ghost of You

Disclaimer: All I do is write fanfics. I don't own ANYTHING. -_-
Rating: NC-17 (starting at Chapter 2)
Warning: This is YAOI - meaning, it has GRAPHIC depictions of MALE/MALE SEX in it (VxD, in this case). Slightly AU (alternate universe), but not much.

Some final notes, because this chapter is different from the others. First off, yes, the perspective changed. I just couldn’t see writing this properly in the third person point of view. Secondly, I took – I kid you not – painstaking hours watching the DMC3 cutscenes over and over and over in order to get the dialogue and the actions precise. For all of the scenes in this chapter that actually DO happen in the game, they should be exact – and anything that I added should fit in without disrupting the game’s preset story. That said, this chapter DOES have spoilers for the third game. Specific spoilers. I’m assuming if you’re reading this that you know that game to some extent anyway, but just consider it a fair warning. Setting all that aside...

Enjoy! ^_^




Chapter 4: Descent

Insanity. When most hear the word, they think of a raving lunatic living in a cardboard box in an alleyway of a metropolis. However, insanity goes far deeper than that. It begins as a simple desire, and then becomes a need, and finally an obsession. That obsession slowly twists and eats away at the person’s mind, until it is the only thing he can think of. It consumes his thoughts, his dreams, every fiber of his being – and all the while he tries to convince himself that he is fine. That what he is doing has purpose. Finally, even the reason for his quest becomes worthless. He forges on because he knows nothing else. And soon, the world fades around him, leaving him alone, with only his insanity to console him.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Even though I had just spent countless hours trying to bring this tower to the surface again, it still surprises me how good the fresh air feels in my lungs. One would think that this would be a normal human reaction, but I have learned in the harshest way that I am neither “normal” nor “human.”

I clutch Yamato tightly as I remind myself of the importance of what I am doing. Very soon, he would come to know of my plans. Careless as he sometimes appeared, he was always very perceptive. I close my eyes for a brief moment, wishing for the millionth time in this last year that I was not standing here alone. Someone else should be here with me. He should be here with me. I shake the thoughts off, and, opening my eyes, I take in the new scenery. It is a beautiful sunset, as I can see after the dust settles. This place reigns above any of the modern day buildings, and I find myself enjoying a view of the city below.

I notice a black flicker across the buildings and wonder if perhaps the demon I sent out has already been defeated. How pathetic. I was always under the impression that Hell Vanguards were rather powerful. Of course, I doubt the creature knew what to make of the prey I sent it after.

However, I’m positive that the prey knew what to make of the creature – which would explain its early return. I smirk a bit at that thought.

Not more than a few minutes later, a man arrives to stand beside me. I hear a book rustle against his clothes and I nearly twitch in irritation. That tome must be terribly important for him to insist on carrying it around constantly. To add to my annoyance, he begins spurting off useless facts about this tower – Temen-ni-gru.

“Now, after two millenniums of confinement, it can at last fulfill the purpose for which it was intended – ”
“That’s...none of my concern,” I say, cutting Arkham off before I give into the urge to cut something off with Yamato. “Did he have it?” I continue.
“Of course,” he responds with a bored tone, “he’s taking good care of it. After all, it is the only memento left from the mother you both lost.”

I unconsciously reach down to touch the amulet hanging on a chain around my neck. The blood red jewel glitters brightly in the fiery evening sun, and my eyes are drawn to the sight. I take a moment to hold the jewel, and then rest it back down once more.

Just as I do so, the Vanguard I sent out earlier lands atop the tower. I can already tell that it is trying to cower before me, fearing punishment. I take in its mostly-intact state and scowl. Surely this creature could have fought longer. Pathetic indeed.

I turn around to walk away, ignoring the worthless minion. However, the Vanguard has the nerve to follow me! I don’t need this. I draw Yamato swiftly, and deliver the punishment that only a brother demon could offer.

It explodes into sand a moment later. I continue my retreat.

Yes, today is a foreboding day. An ominous one. But it is the day that I begin my quest for power, and a day that I will never allow my own “brother demon” to miss.

Dante...

***

The evening sun is long gone by the time he arrives. It has been replaced with heavy rainfall – appropriate, really.

I feel a flicker at the corner of my mind, and I wait patiently for the approaching source of power. There is an unwelcome – and admittedly surprising – churn in my stomach. I find myself steeling my nerves for the task I am likely to perform in the next few moments. It is an experience that I am by no means accustomed to having, but this encounter is easily nothing like the others I have had before.

Confidence in my skills as a warrior may simply not be enough this time.

Realizing that my eyebrows are furrowed in nervous concentration, I chide myself mentally and reform my expression into one of absolute calm. I viciously shove my anxiety down into some dark part of my emotions and turn slightly to greet the new figure standing across the distance of the tower’s platform.

“You showed up.”
“You sure know how to throw a party,” my twin comments, all humor as usual. “No food, no drinks...and the only babe just left.”
Playing along with him for the moment, I respond, “My sincerest apology, brother. I was so eager to see you that I couldn’t concentrate on preparations for the bash.”
“Whatever,” he says, and I can tell that he has gotten bored already. “At any rate, it’s been a whole year since we last met. How about a kiss from your little brother?” he continues sarcastically. “Better yet, how about a kiss from this?”

He points his pistol at me, and I feel my heart sink for a second. So, it really does have to come to this? I reach out with my end of our link, but there is only a cold wall on the other side. It seems Dante isn’t up for any reasoning right now. For a long moment, we simply stare at one another, and then he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“So, this is what they call a heartwarming family reunion, eh?”

I pause for just a second.

“You got that right.”

I flick the hilt of Yamato up and ready myself for one rough battle.

***

I’m not sure how long we fight like that. It could have been seconds or days, but my body begins to protest all the same. I knew that I needed to finish this battle soon, or the only one who was even capable of tiring me in combat would surely begin to get the better of me.

I could see that he, too, was breathing hard, and I shake my rain-soaked hair back from my face. It had fallen during this incessant downpour and has now become a bit of a distraction in these critical final moments.

Abruptly, he rushes at me with his sword – the same sword he has been carrying since our mother’s death. I block him, but he just keeps on striking. Finally, I get my chance, and I turn Yamato around quickly and ram the hilt into his stomach. The impact, followed by the clash of our blades a split-second later is enough to throw him backwards and into one of the stone pillars surrounding our battlefield.

He barely recoils and instantly lifts the black pistol of his pair up to me, firing off seven rounds in quick succession. Already prepared for his gun slinging tricks, I spin my blade like a windmill and take down each one of his bullets, lining four of them up neatly on the ground. With a burst of waning strength, I fling the gold projectiles back at him with Yamato. He also seems ready for this, and cuts through all four of them with Rebellion. They explode like firecrackers at his sides and he is spared any injury.

As I focus my gaze on him, I notice the look of set determination on his face. It frustrates me, but I don’t let it show in my voice.

“Why do you refuse to gain power? The power of our father Sparda?” I question.
He laughs humorlessly, and continues to do so as he says, “Father? I don’t have a father. I just don’t like you, that’s all.”

I sigh inwardly. He’s being childish now and trying to turn away from the subject at hand. Escapism. It disgusts me.

Once again, he runs at me with his sword drawn. I can tell that he is just as worn out as I am, but he is still quite dangerous – then again, so am I.

We clash, and he holds his blade against mine with all of his strength. I can tell, because it’s taking everything I have just to hold my own. Sparks fly as metal grinds on metal, but neither of us flinch. A red spot begins to glow on each of our blades, the heat transmitting even through this cold rain.

I take a chance and move my blade sharply. It works. Rebellion goes flying, and between one breath and the next, I find myself unthinkingly ramming the deadly weapon halfway through my twin’s torso. He gasps in pain, and I feel the faintest glimmer of this through our link. However, that wall is still very much in place, and Dante does not allow me to feel any more than that.

His hand grabs at the blade, now embedded in his stomach. I stare at him with a stony face.

“Foolishness, Dante. Foolishness. Might controls everything. And without strength, you cannot protect anything. Let alone yourself,” I tell him, accenting each statement with an agonizing thrust or twist of Yamato.

Savagely, I pull the weapon out of Dante, grabbing for my ultimate prize as my brother falls to the ground – his amulet. No sooner than my hand makes contact with it does he reach up to try and keep it from me. Swiftly, I slash at the offending appendage with my blade, and his feeble effort is subdued. I hold the jewel in my hand for a moment, and then bring it close to my face. A fleeting image of our mother appears in my mind, but vanishes as I sweep my hair back once more.

For one, long moment, I stare at the figure on the ground. He is splayed on his back, arms out to his sides and eyes closed in delirium – biblical, almost. I scowl to myself at that thought. Slowly, I turn away, fully intending to take this new acquisition to a more useful place. As I stride away, though, I feel a touch on the back of my mind. Casually, I take his blade from the concrete.

He attempts to rise, reaching out to me, but I promptly pin his body back down to the pavement with his own sword. He will not stop me. I turn once more.

“Do you finally have it?” Arkham questions, seeming to appear out of nowhere as usual.
“Yes. Now the spell Sparda cast will be broken,” I respond, more to shut him up than anything.

As I saunter off, I feel...something. A power grows in my wake, and I turn just in time to see a cascade of rainwater surge upward. My brother nearly flies through the wave of water, ready to kill me with his bare hands. I take the fraction of the second that I have to prepare by drawing Yamato from its sheath. He’s barely a step away, and I let my instincts tell me the right moment to attack. I manage to spear his clenched fist cleanly, but not even so much as a flash of pain comes from his side of the still-closed link.

“I see a devil inside you has awakened as well,” I comment, impressed with his newfound strength.

He moves his hand in what should have been an agonizing manner, intentionally cutting through the flesh to remove it from the blade. Then, my twin grips the blade. He jerks on it roughly, attempting to throw me off balance. I evade with a jump, twisting my body to face him. Reasserting my grip on Yamato, I move to draw the elegant weapon again, prepared for another battle, but Arkham interrupts.

“Wait. We should leave. For the moment we have all that we need,” he says.

For once, I’m inclined to believe him. The energy emanating from my twin is giving me second thoughts about my chances of victory. I hesitate, but then turn away, knowing that I have more pressing matters to attend to than my little brother’s very first devil trigger.

I leap off of the tower, wondering how he is going to deal with this new experience. I hear Arkham follow a second later.

I turn in midair, watching the top of Temen-ni-gru fall away from me as I descend. As I thought, a burst of light appears from the summit, followed by a scream – and then...nothing. Well, I suppose he didn’t take that so well, now did he?

The air shifts around me, and I turn myself in the opposite direction curiously, only to find myself face to...eye...with a rather sizable demon. It blinks its blood red orb at me once, seeming to evaluate who and what I am. I give it the most powerful looking expression I can muster, trying to convey thoughts of me defeating it should it attempt to challenge me. It holds its stare for a moment, as if pitting its will against my own. Then, the sky demon turns away lazily, presumably to find some other easy prey.

I might have sighed in relief at that moment, but Arkham was staring at me too intently for my comfort.

However, I do finally sigh once – in irritation.

***

It seems as if this is the millionth time I’ve sighed today, but, then again, this also feels like the millionth door I’ve had to enter while listening to Arkham’s incessant babbling about the tower. I can tell that something is distracting him. He continues to fiddle with that book, despite knowing nearly all of its contents by heart.

I think back to the woman he was supposed to have disposed of earlier. I know he didn’t follow through, because I can still feel a distinctly human presence wandering about Temen-ni-gru. The glimmer of her soul is dim in comparison to myself and my twin, as well as Arkham, but it is there. Pulling me out of my thoughts, he tells me that this door leads to the lair of judgment – the final door, if memory serves. I listen in for once, seeing as how this information might actually mean something to me.

“Temen-ni-gru will finally regain its full function and lead us into the Demon World. The world where Sparda’s power has been sealed” he says, continuing his explanation of the tower’s purpose. “And the one who will lift the incantation is you, his own son. It must be fate.”

Each time that man mentions my father, I feel an overwhelming urge to draw Yamato against him. No one but Mother ever had the right to speak about Sparda – and her stories were always tales of bravery and noble actions. She never spoke ill of him, even though his absence always caused her such pain. I clench my fist at the memory, reminding myself firmly of my purpose at this place.

I was here to gain the power of my father – the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda. After doing so, I could finally return to my brother. He would be enraged at me at first, I know, but...I think even stubborn Dante would come to understand my motives eventually.

No one is ever going to separate us again after this.

I touch the silver-backed jewel that lines my pocket.

No one.

With newfound purpose, I wait for the door to open. In an odd gesture of respect, Arkham bows and puts his arm out, as if giving me the first honors of entering the large chamber. I walk past him, but I do not hear his footsteps echoing mine.

I think I’ve had about enough of this. I remain facing away from him, but finally pose a question he can’t avoid.

“Does that woman really bother you?” I ask, cold as ice.
“What are you talking about?” he replies, and I can tell that he’s looking for a way out of the question.
“Why didn’t you kill her? Perhaps, because she’s your daughter? Did some pesky fatherly love get in your way?” I inquire, finally allowing a bit of my irritation to come through as sarcasm.
“That is none of your – ”

Enough. In a fluid motion that has come from years of training, I draw my katana and thrust it cleanly into Arkham. I decide to prolong his pain for a while – after all, he’s just a human.

“To further your study of the black arts, you sacrificed your loving wife - to become a devil as well. Knowing this, I thought you’d be more useful to me...but I was wrong,” I state, twisting and driving the blade deeper to accentuate my last point. “No wonder your attainment of power is incomplete.”
“What about you?” he counters. “You’re an incomplete being as well. Both demon and human blood mingle in your veins.”
“Shut up.”

Disgust and rage overtake me, and I violently withdraw the blade from his body, flicking it expertly to the side to clean it of blood. That...human...isn’t even worth the effort it took to bring about his death. I sheath the blade, timing it perfectly as always. His body collapses just as Yamato clicks into its holding place. I turn to walk away, taking a moment to inform him of what my plan has been from the beginning.

“Now that the final door is open, I have no use for you.”

And with that, I forge onward.

***

This is the moment. The room is decorated with several large bells, all sporting skeletons with angel wings. This must be an important place, but I don’t waste time gawking at the scenery. A circle of light glows on the floor in the center of the room, and I make strides for it instantly, a thin smile on my lips.

Although I reach my goal, an intruding noise comes from behind me. Something catches the corner of my vision...a feather? I turn around to see what has interrupted my actions and there stands a creature of formidable power – most likely one of the most powerful demons within this tower. One of its eyes looks to be scarred, and the other looks freshly ripped apart. It resembles something of a reptilian dog but immensely stronger than either one.

Despite its blindness, the demon is crouched in a battle stance. I smirk at the creature, impressed with its determination. Not unexpectedly, it speaks to me in a deep, growling voice.

“I found you, seed of Sparda! I told you that I remembered your rancid scent,” it begins. “No matter where you run to, you can never hide from me!”

It remembers my scent? Suddenly, the pieces fall together in my mind. Dante. That must be the reason behind the newly mangled eye as well. However, I find it rather offensive that this demon thinks I smell like my uncouth twin. I give a mental huff at that.

Just as that thought crosses my mind, the beast lunges forward with an enormous clawed paw. I leap into the air to evade, and twist my body to reach Yamato better and reposition myself upon landing. Between one breath and the next, I land atop the demon’s large head, already beginning to put my katana back in its sheath. Not even realizing its own demise, the beast speaks once more.

“You...you are not the one I faced before...but this smell...there are two of them! That excrement Sparda had two sons...!”

Upon its last statement and the complete sheathing of my weapon, the creature’s bulbous head splits cleanly into four chunks, severing at the neck. As the rest of the body collapses, I jump gracefully to the ground once more. A guardian of Temen-ni-gru. Staring at its corpse, I find that hard to believe. More feathers waft about the chamber, and I examine the dead body more closely. Something touches my thoughts, and I unconsciously reach out my hand. A light moves towards it, and as it makes contact, I feel warmth spread throughout my body. Fire? No. Light. Odd how a demon would wield the power of light, but considering the power now flowing through me, I’m certainly not going to complain.

I take a moment to admire the gauntlets and greaves I’m equipped with, and then smirk at the corpse. With my usual speed, I rush forward to attack it, testing the strength of my new toys. An uppercut sends the body flying, and I follow the movement with a slicing kick from above. Before the cleanly split parts of the body even have time to hit the ground, I land lightly. The feathers seem to multiply by a thousand, fading away as the demon’s corpse bleeds out.

I look once at my handiwork and give a feral grin. Not too bad. I favor the gauntlets with one last appraising look. Maybe these will help to convince Dante of my quest for power.

I lower my hands, and look to the circle of light once more. Striding over to the glowing ring, I examine it. As I stand above it, I can nearly hear thousands of voices calling out. I can’t make out what any of them are saying, but I can sense that they are crying out for something in desperation. The amulet around my neck seems to heat up, and the one lining my pocket responds in kind. Removing them both carefully, I hold them in my hands above the light. The twin jewels almost seem to communicate with one another, and they lift from my hands to spin around each other. Finally, they lock together as one and fall down into the light, which now looks to be a shallow pit of sorts.

More voices course through my head now, but just like when I was with Dante a year ago, I am somehow able to comprehend one word – Sparda. They are screaming out for my father. I touch the hilt of my sword. Arkham informed me of the process I would have to complete in order to lift the spell, and I continue on with it. Swiftly, but delicately, I draw the katana, positioning it roughly above the circle of light. Then, I take my other hand and grip the blade tightly. It hurts, but the edge is still razor-sharp and it cuts through my skin easily enough. I swipe the blade to make a deep gash in my hand, and then allow the falling droplets of blood to collect in the pit.

Soon, it is full, and I nod in satisfaction, backing away and sheathing my blade.

Now it is just a matter of time before I receive what is rightfully mine.

***

I. Am. Furious. It’s not often that I lose my composure, but the urgency of my goals and the speed, or lack thereof, at which this ritual is going are beginning to try my patience. I pace back and forth, feeling much like a caged animal waiting for its only meal of the day. My fists are clenched so tightly that I could have drawn blood had my nails been long enough to do so. Finally, I turn towards the shallow pool of blood and let out my frustration.

“Why isn’t this working!?” I roar. “Is there something missing? Must more blood be shed?
“You seem to be in a bad mood,” an irritatingly familiar voice says from behind me.

I turn, and sure enough...

“Dante...”

I reach for my sword, but he seems indifferent to the sight and continues talking.

“So...my mother’s amulet is the key that unlocks the door to the Demon World. Good plan, Pop,” he says, giving a humorless laugh.
“Just the opposite, actually,” I begin, correcting him, as I know it will only wind him up – and I’m itching for an outlet for my anger right now. “Originally it was the key to the Demon World, but was given to humans as a gift.”
“It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,” he responds, reacting exactly how I wanted him to. “More importantly, I’ve come all this way. I’m sure you have time for one more game...right?”
“Why not?” I say after a moment of ‘thought,’ as if I had not been expecting this. “After all, we share the same blood...I’ll just use more of yours to undo daddy’s little spell.”
“So, you want a piece of me literally. Okay bro, come and get it – if you can.”

We begin to battle, and it continues like it always does – neither one of us ever really gets the upper hand, and we end up more worn out than injured. I find that these gauntlets slow me down a bit more than usual, but their power more than makes up for it. I send my twin flying with just one punch. However, I can tell that Dante is quickly evaluating my strengths and weaknesses with this new weapon. He soon learns strategic moments to attack, and I find myself unbelievably on the losing side of the fight.

There is warmth all around me – my body, my face, even the air surrounding me. The heat grows and grows in its intensity, and as it swells, I feel my rage rise up with it. My movements are wilder, but there is far more power behind them. I can sense that my body is becoming tired, but I simply cannot allow Dante to defeat me. Gradually, I get a sense of another self...as if I’m watching the fight more than taking part in it. The heat becomes nearly unbearable, and I almost gasp in realization of what is happening to me.

Grinning wickedly at my twin, I let the dark power overtake me, whispering, “You will not underestimate this devil’s power” as a sphere of energy surrounds my frame. The demon half of my heritage consumes my mind, and I revel in the unbridled strength of my very own devil trigger.

Dante seems taken aback for a moment, but raises his sword to me again and continues his onslaught. Of course, I’m not about to let him win. I attack relentlessly with the gauntlets. I kick my twin across the room, but he gets up instantly, not letting injury or fatigue get the better of him. He rushes towards me, and just as I am about to attack, he leaps high into the air and brings his blade down upon me. The demonic protection over me feels like it is about to short circuit and suddenly, I find myself in human form again. I growl in frustration, leaping away from Dante.

I draw Yamato, muttering something about my brother not being a worthy opponent, and attack him viciously with the katana. The gauntlets were powerful, but they are no match for my sword.

It’s time to end this.

Blow after blow, and neither one of us can get a fatal attack in. Even when he wields his own devil trigger against me, we cannot overcome one another.

Abruptly, my ears catch a noise off to my left, and it seems as if Dante has reacted as well. He sweeps Rebellion to the side and I slash downward just in time to split a projectile rocket into four pieces. Rocket?

I look to the source of the surprise attack, but Dante is already addressing the young woman.

“Sorry, but this is no place for a little girl. So beat it!”
“Shut up!” she yells in return, obviously enraged for some reason – although the look on her face would tell me that that’s a daily emotion for her.

Intending to take him off guard, I assail my twin once more. He counters, not a bit out of sync, despite the current distraction. The woman rushes towards us, gripping her rocket launcher – which is nearly as tall as she is, I might add. She begins to shove the weapon into my face – my face? – but I parry the modern metal contraption with my far more reliable blade. Dante tries to get between us (and I wonder briefly if he is attempting to guard her), but I am able to send her soaring across the room. She makes painful contact with the ground, and I follow up my blow with a powerful downward cut. Dante attempts to stop me, but I leap into the air, parrying his sword. I will rid myself of this nuisance once and for all.

Surprisingly, she is fast enough to bring her bulky gun up to block me. I keep the pressure on, and I can practically see her weak human muscles straining with all their might to defend their owner. She spits accusing words at me, and I nearly laugh at how gullible she is.

“You forced him into this!” she says, glaring at me with pure rage.
“Is that what you think?” I respond, looking at her like a child. “Foolish girl...”

She gapes at me for a moment, unbelieving, and I leave her to her own thoughts. I have more pressing matters to attend to. Dante is ready when I go to attack him again. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the woman aiming her weapon uncertainly between the two of us, but she eventually looks away entirely. I turn my attention fully back to my twin, just as he manages to nail me with a slash from Rebellion. I retaliate instantly, gashing his torso similarly.

Suddenly drained of strength, we both collapse to our knees. For a moment, all is silent, but then...

“Bravo! Bravo! I never dreamed that things would go so smoothly. Well done, everyone! Well done!” the strange clown says, applauding...our fight...?
“You!” Dante mutters, and I realize that he has probably encountered this...person...before – is it a demon?

The woman hoists her launcher up to the violet-clad jester, but he snags the barrel of her weapon with ease, slithering out his tongue disgustingly.

“Don’t be a bad girl, Mary,” he says, flinging her to the ground and stealing her gun, “or you can expect a spanking from daddy later. Jester’s gonna spank your butt. Spank you on the bu – ?”
“Insane buffoon!” I yell, annoyed at this creature already. “I don’t know where you came from, but you don’t belong here. Now leave!” I continue, rushing at him with Yamato.

My steps falter slightly, but I don’t let it stop me. However, when I reach him, I find my slash abruptly cut off. Astonished and angered, I let out a noise of confusion and look up to see the brainless clown holding my katana!

“Zowie, that was close,” he says casually, “but you’ve taken quite a trouncing today, haven’t you Vergil? You could have chopped me into confetti by now if you were in tip-top condition,” he continues, tipping my blade to the side.

I breathe heavily. Despite how frustrated it makes me, I have to admit this “demon” is right and I am indeed exhausted.

“Damn you!” I respond angrily.
“You have lost...” he says simply, in a disturbingly familiar voice.

In a fraction of a second, I find myself skidding across the ground painfully. I continue to lay there as the clown speaks, unable to summon the energy needed to upright myself. I think Dante is looking at me, but it’s difficult to tell. Attempting to move my head at all is making it spin wildly.

The woman says something to him, but I can’t concentrate on it. Arkham responds – yes...yes, that is Arkham...I can tell now – saying something to the woman with false sincerity. He mentions “mother,” so this woman must be the one he was to dispose of earlier. His daughter. She retorts back with name-calling, pulling a weapon on him. My body aches everywhere, but it is healing and I think I can stand now. Slowly, I begin climbing to my feet. Arkham takes the form of the clown again, saying something about it being time for her spanking, and roughly bashes her head into the ground. She cries out, her human body obviously unable to take that kind of punishment.

He turns slightly in my direction, now addressing me.

“You want to know why the spell didn’t break, hmm, Vergil? You have two amulets, and Sparda’s blood. You had everything you needed to unleash the evil...”
“I told you before. I don’t like anybody who has a bigger mouth than mine,” my brother interjects, raising his pistols and firing off a constant stream of bullets at the jester.

The clown Arkham seems to teleport about the room, taking great joy in evading Dante’s attacks.

“You are wounded and weak,” he taunts. “Even I can do...this to you!” he calls out in glee, striking and standing directly upon my twin’s face in a painful-looking way.

He takes on the form of Arkham again, walking slowly towards his still-prone daughter.

“Two amulets...a set of Sparda’s blood. Now I need one more key. He sacrificed two things to suppress the tremendous force of this tower: his own devil’s blood...and a mortal priestess,” he explains, bending down briefly to grasp the woman’s rocket launcher from the ground.

He hoists the weapon slightly, and then brings down the blade tip of it so that it pierces the woman’s leg. She cries out in pain, but lowers her head, continuing to make strained noises as he speaks.

“I needed you, in whose body flows the same blood as the sacrificed woman. His spell cannot be undone without your blood!”
“It was quite a ride, you know,” Arkham continues, now the clown again. “If any of you had died before getting here, our little plan would have gone to waste! Therefore, my job was to make you battle each other in order to weaken you, but at the same time I had to guide you here and make sure that you were kept alive. I even went so far as dressing like a complete idiot!” he concludes, laughing obnoxiously.

He leans close to his daughter, hefting the launcher once more.

“It’s time for bed, Mary. You can visit your dear mother,” he says, cackling even more than before.

Despite her pain, the woman is obviously poised to move, but it goes unnoticed by the clown. Fortunately, my brother and I are a bit more attentive. She kicks the launcher out from his hands, returning it to her own possession with a satisfied look and a “try me” aimed at this twisted form of her father. Instantly, Dante and I are both at her side, crossing our blades and forming an effective barrier against any attempts at escape.

“It’s time for the clown to bow out, Arkham,” I tell him.
“Dude, the show’s over!” Dante offers.
“Impressive,” he states, seemingly unperturbed that he is facing his doom from all three of us. “I expected nothing less from the devil’s descendents. But aren’t you forgetting something, Vergil? The spell is broken. What do you think will happen next?”

“Let’s welcome chaos.”

He smiles unattractively just as the huge platform begins to rotate, the circle of light – now blood red – rising up and becoming the center point for the entire tower. All three of us attack at once, but we meet nothing but each other’s weapons. Before I realize it, Arkham is down on the ground sweeping a leg beneath all of us and kicking us from the platform.

Dante and the woman are flung in one direction and I in another. I stare after my twin for as long as it takes me to hit the ground. Then, everything goes black.

***

Rock. Grey, bland rock. It takes my mind a few moments to register that that is, in fact, what I’m looking at. There is a dull ache in every inch of my body. It hurts to breathe. The main bulk of my injuries have healed completely, which tells me that I’ve been unconscious for some time. However, considering that I still seem to be alive, I think it’s safe to assume that I still have time to get up and find that madman Arkham. I shift carefully (and somewhat painfully) to my back, pondering the possibilities and examining the area I’m in.

I seem to have fallen in a chasm created by the platform’s uprising, if the large crack of light above me is any indication. The cool stone against my body soothes some of the aches still stubbornly residing within my frame. I take a rough estimate of the distance upward, and note that I could probably jump up to the surface easily enough. I tell myself to get up and do just that, but nothing moves. It occurs to me that my body is playing a game of pros and cons.

Situation: stay laying here on the floor and heal, and, more importantly, rest
Pro: feel better physically for when you do have to get up
Con: get a crick in your neck and back from laying on stone
Pro: next brotherly fight is delayed for at least a few hours
Con: next fight with curious demons wanting your flesh only delayed for fifteen minutes
Pro: don’t have to hear one of Arkham’s megalomaniac speeches for a while
Con: have to start calling Arkham “Daddy” because you waited too long

Damn it. I sigh in defeat. Carefully, I rise to my feet, still stiff, but not in as much pain as I expected. I give my best effort to brush off the dust and pebbles still clinging to me and arrange my hair properly once more. I do a quick check to make sure Yamato is secure, look for the best spot to start leaping, and make my way up to the surface of the chasm.

This just isn’t my day.

***

I do have to give credit to the humans who built this place. For them to make each area connect so perfectly, especially after the tower transforms, is a great feat. As I admire the scenery, I step into a library, where I see something decidedly un-ancient. Bullet shells are strewn about the floor, and there are several gashes in the bookshelves, as well as giant black marks on the walls. However, the most notable feature of the room by far is the woman sitting against one of the many bookcases.

Naive as she may be – and human as she may be – this woman (Mary, wasn’t it?) has earned my respect, both for her fighting prowess and her unwavering determination. I like that in a person. So, as a gesture of my respect, I leave her be and simply walk past to my next destination. Besides, she didn’t look like she was going to be putting up much of a fight for a while at least. Best not to disturb her.

I walk out of the library, feeling a little closer to my goal.

***

It truly baffles me that Hell is such an ornate place, beautiful and unholy at the same time. As I stride down walkways that create themselves when you approach, I find myself wondering if Dante has made it here already. I can only assume that he has, because the final gate guardian didn’t seem to be “at his post,” so to speak.

Before I had arrived at this tower, Arkham had spent time telling me of the gate guardians and under what circumstances I would encounter them. As such, I had expected to have to fight the shadow guardian, Doppelganger, when I arrived at the Hell Gate. However, since that demon was not there, Dante obviously came through here before I did. That relieved me in some way.

As I walked through each already-completed obstacle, it was comforting to know that my brother hadn’t died on any of them. After all, my plan is useless if he does.

I keep telling myself this over and over – that this is for Dante. That when I gain the power of our father, no one will dare to challenge us again.

Still...I can’t help the thoughts that creep into my mind occasionally. I lust for power. I always have, ever since I was a child, but now...it’s different somehow. It’s a thought that consumes my mind and disregards any logical reasoning. But I know everything will be fine this time. It may take some time, but I know I can win Dante over again. I know I can get him to forgive all of my sins and accept that this is all for him. I know I can.

***

How revolting.

I can hardly believe that that thing claims to have the power of my father. It is grotesque, misshapen, and virtually formless. The darkness flows from it freely, unlike the calm, collected image that my mother always painted in her descriptions of my father. I can vaguely see a face somewhere inside of the amorphous mass, but that is none too attractive either. I suddenly feel sorry for Mary, but she must have gotten her looks from her mother, thankfully.

As I take note of the situation, I decide that it’s a good thing I showed up when I did. Dante was about to get “his ass handed to him,” as he himself might say.

Turning my attention back to Arkham and the tentacle of his that I severed, I can hear him curse me.

“I’ve come to retrieve my power,” I say simply. “You can’t handle it.”

I leap down next to my twin and put my sword close to him, warning Dante not to try anything against me. He seems to understand what I’m getting at, but turns it into a joke, as usual.

“Look at you...making a big, dramatic entrance and stealing my spotlight.”
“Well,” I start, playing along, “you don’t possibly believe that he deserves to be our main event, now do you?”
“Now that you mention it...you’re right.”
“Do you feel you can defeat me? Defeat the power of your father? The great Sparda?” Arkham taunts, obviously trying to intimidate us.
“You should come to realize you cannot control the power of Sparda,” I respond, shaking a finger in admonishment as my brother and I advance on him.
“You’re wasting your time, buddy,” Dante adds, raising Rebellion and directing his next comment towards me. “I think he needs to learn the hard way.”

I couldn’t agree more.

***

The battle is almost laughably easy, despite Arkham’s best efforts. He should have realized that defeating the sons of Sparda as a team was an impossibility. Dante and I have fought both against and alongside each other for far too long to let a single flaw in our coordination show through.

As that hideous creature writhes in agony, my twin and I shove our blades simultaneously into his formless mass. He tries to shake us off, but we hold our footing. I can sense Dante rearing up for another attack, and he kicks his blade so that it begins to pass through the body. I, too, strike the hilt of my blade and watch it cut through Arkham’s form. I react just in time to snag Rebellion as it exits on my side, and I can hear Dante grasping Yamato on its way out as well.

We both leap to the side, standing aside one another for a moment. My twin’s body tenses, and I ready myself for another combination attack. We fly forward, slashing each other’s weapons deep into the gel-like flesh, and land safely next to each other again on the other side. Without missing a beat, I toss my brother’s sword back over to him, as he does likewise with mine. The beast protests, but we ignore him.

As he reattaches his blade to his back, Dante grins, drawing out his pistols instead. Arkham lashes out, knocking one from his grip, but my lightning fast reflexes catch the renegade gun in time.

“I’ll try it your way for once,” I tell my brother, pointing the black pistol at the monstrosity before us.
“Remember what we used to say?” he responds eagerly.

I smile.

“Jackpot.”

In unison, two streams of light burst forth from the barrels, fueled by magic and our own devils’ power. Arkham begins to rip apart, dissolving.

“I have the true power of Sparda!” he cries out.
“Not very classy for someone’s dying words,” I comment, tossing Dante’s pistol back over to him.

For a moment, everything is still, but then an oval of light where the mass was a few seconds before catches my eye.

The amulets. And the sword.

The instant I recognize them as such, I make a headlong dash for all three. Dante registers what I’m doing barely a moment later and sprints after me, diving down the hole I leapt into. I manage to snag my amulet on the way down, but my twin’s jewel, as well as the sword, is out of reach. A few meters above me, I can see my brother take hold of his amulet.

The fall doesn’t last long, and soon I find myself landing hard in a rushing river, which becomes a waterfall at the end of a cliff. Not more than an instant after I make contact, I run with all my might to the sword, seeing Dante do the same. My hand touches the hilt just a second before my brother reaches me, and I rip the sword from the ground before he can get a hand on it, brandishing the weapon against him quickly.

He backs off, clutching his pendant tightly.

“Give that to me,” I tell him, keeping a calm voice and gesturing with my hand at his amulet.
“No way. You’ve got your own,” he retorts, as I had expected him to.
“Well I want yours, too,” I insist, raising my blade at him.
“What are you gonna do with all that power, huh?” he questions me. “No matter how hard you try, you’re never gonna be like father.”

My frustration gets the better of me, and I rush angrily at him with the Force Edge.

“You’re wasting time!” I shout, but his face stays stony.

He grabs the sword and draws his own at the same time. Before I realize it, we’re both holding each other’s weapons, blood streaming down the blades.

Dante looks at me, pleading in his eyes. I know he’s trying to reason with me, but he just doesn’t understand! I’m doing all of this for his sake – for our sake! Why can’t he understand that? I’m furious with him now, and my vision is going red with my anger. He begins to speak to me, trying to calm me, to convince me...and I can feel a little push on my thoughts. It takes me a while to realize that he finally opened his end of our link, and I close my end viciously, not wanting this distraction from my objective.

“We are the sons of Sparda,” he insists. “Within each of us flows his blood...but more importantly...his soul!”

He lunges away from me this time, but continues his little speech.

“And now, my soul is saying it wants to stop you!”

“Unfortunately, our souls are at odds, brother,” I tell him, laughing mirthlessly – if only he knew. “I need more power,” I conclude, clenching my fist tightly for emphasis.
“And we’re supposed to be twins,” he says, and I can hear a note of sadness in his voice.
“Twins...right...” I finish, drawing out the last word.

What ensues after that is quite possibly the most difficult battle of my life. Endless power flows through me as I wield the Force Edge, and the darkness takes over my senses more than its fair share of times. I unleash attacks that I never thought were possible for me, and I can tell that Dante is responding with every fiber of his being. He battles furiously, triggering the devil within every time he builds up enough mental and physical energy to do so.

Still...even though I’m at peak condition, I can feel myself tiring. This power is immense, but short-lived it seems. All Dante needs to do is outlast me – and outlast me he does.

I come out of my final devil trigger violently, collapsing to the ground and breathing hard.

“Am I...being defeated?” I ask, unbelieving.
“What’s wrong? Is that all you got? Come on, get up! You can do better than that,” Dante taunts, and it drives me mad to hear those words from him.

I growl in fury, rising to my feet. A rumble from all around us nearly takes me back down again, but I endure it, knowing the source.

“The portal to the human world is closing, Dante,” I inform him, “because the amulets have been separated.”
“Let’s finish this, Vergil. I have to stop you...even if that means killing you,” he responds, his voice growing quiet on the last part.

Insistently, I can feel him prodding my mind, trying to get me to listen. I can feel his fear, but I haven’t a clue why he seems so scared.

I raise the Force Edge to him, and begin charging with the last of my strength. Dante does so as well. As he grows closer, I know I should be readying my sword. I know.

But it doesn’t happen.

A split second later, a line of fire draws itself across my torso. My scream dissolves into the air, along with that of my twin’s. For a moment, everything goes numb. Then, the pain kicks in again, and I drop the Force Edge behind me. My amulet falls just in front of me, and I lean down to grab the jewel out of the rushing water before anything can happen to it.

I turn to my brother, stumbling backwards a few paces. With frightening calm, my mind pieces together the next phase of my plan. It has to be this way.

“No one can have this, Dante,” I tell him, holding my amulet close to my body. “It’s mine. It belongs to a son of Sparda.”

I stumble back a few more steps painfully, and my twin’s eyes go wide, realizing my intention. He darts towards me, but in a fraction of a second I draw Yamato against him.

“Leave me and go,” I implore, taking a step back to the edge of the waterfall, “if you don’t want to be trapped in the Demon World. I’m staying. This place...was our father’s home.”

With that, I let myself fall, only taking a brief second to slash at Dante’s outstretched hand. His mouth is open, as if to cry out, and if it were possible for him to make dents in my mind, the mental pounding coming through his end of the link would have done so.

But...it’s better this way...

Isn’t it?

As I fall away from Dante, I can see an image in my mind’s eye of the children we once were. Pure and innocent. We lost that somewhere along the way, I think.

The inky blackness surrounds me now. I can no longer see my twin, although I’m sure he’s still staring down at the abyss.

I close my eyes tightly for a moment, thinking only of one thing. One person.

My brother.

My lover.

My sanity.

And...my sacrifice.


~End~ 12/21/05


______________________________

And there you have it. “The Ghost of You.” I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I liked writing it. For more information on the story, you can check out my (rather lengthy) author’s notes in the next “chapter” entry.

Silver – really? It seemed really long to me. Maybe cuz I’m always so long-winded any other time, I get more worried about rambling.

whacko_dante – um...I really don’t know what to say. I’m flattered. Thank you for your enthusiasm. I hope my other (future) stories will be appreciated as much. o^_^o