Post by clairavance on Aug 12, 2010 10:26:09 GMT 7
IHEAY - Chapter x - Betrayer (non-revised version)
It was Thursday. Eva was at the library, no doubt – she attended her weekly book club with an almost religious fervour. Dante was lost somewhere in the city partying it up.
Vergil never left the house without good reason, he preferred to isolate himself within the fortress walls – the few who were privileged to know of his mere existence were Roman and Lorry.
That’s why people who didn’t know the Sparda family well would respond with a blank look when I mentioned ‘the brothers’; that’s why the demon in front of me had no clue that Sparda’s successor in blood and skill had an equally matched counterpart. He didn’t need to know about Dante.
It would be sweet revenge. I’d sworn to Vergil that he would pay for taking away everything I had left. It was only just, only fair, that I make good on my word.
“Yes,” I said slowly, knowing that one single word held the colossal power of change. “I can tell you where you can find the son of Sparda.”
It would be killing two birds with one stone – get rid of that cold-hearted demented dumbass once and for all, and spare Dante and Eva from being hunted down by vengeful demons. So what if it hurt them to lose Vergil? The world would be a better place without him. It was for the greater good – Sparda had always been big on that.
“The Dark Prince will reward you greatly...” the demon Kurst assured in his distorted voice.
“It will be reward enough to see the bastard die. I want nothing else.” I said brusquely.
“Oh, he will perish, as surely as the traitor Sparda had met his demise at Mundus’s hand, so his son shall greet his own end.”
“The only condition I have is that I want to be there to see it.” I said. “I want to look him in the eye when he breathes his last, I want him to know that it’s because of me that he will die.”
The procession of demons following close behind me was as discreet and stealthy as shadows dancing in the night. We weren’t seen, or heard, or smelled. We moved with swift purpose. I didn’t see myself allying with the enemy – this was purely a vendetta against Vergil, nothing more. If I could use others to do that one thing I knew I couldn’t, then why the hell not?
I worried only once on our way that Vergil might actually slice and dice up the demons and laugh in my face. But there were too many. He was outnumbered by hundreds, and these weren’t lesser demons. These things were in a higher rank; powerful demons with sharp minds and intimidating abilities. Vergil didn’t stand a chance in hell.
It was almost funny as the army of devils circled the Sparda fortress, hidden by the embrace of night, as silent as death. The drapes were all drawn open, but the only room in the house lit up was the family den. I sneaked closer to the bay window to get a better view. The anticipation in the air was prickly and oppressive, heavily veiling the night.
It was a black night – the moon had diverted its eye and turned its back to the carnage that was about to take place. The wind was still for a change, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
The light in the room came from the lit furnace, the flames reflecting against the walls playfully, peacefully. Rambo was lying at the foot of Sparda’s old arm chair, and his tail wagged once uncertainly when he sensed me nearby. Vergil was curled up on the chair, completely engrossed in some thick book opened up on his lap. Yamato was sheathed and lying on top of the fire mantelpiece.
Kurst signalled to several others to go round the back. I shook my head at him when he motioned me to join him, and made a slight nod toward the window. I had a good view from here. He understood, and melted around the side of the house.
I turned my attention back to Vergil. The first inkling that something was out of place hit me when I recognized the pale aquamarine and burgundy colours on the cover of the book he was studying intently. That was a textbook – a science textbook from school. What was Vergil doing staring at it with such a deep, thoughtful look?
He lifted his head and looked toward the arching doorway at the same time that Rambo’s head jerked up, ears twitching alertly, and then his fur stood on end and a menacing growl echoed through the room. The dog rose to its feet with predatory intent and slinked toward the arch.
A delicate frown swathed Vergil’s features as he slowly uncurled from the chair. He reached for the katana, and dropped the textbook on the coffee table, looking toward the couch closer to the window.
“Did you hear that?” Vergil asked.
“Mom?” Dante called.
Oh, shit. I felt my eyes widen, and shifted position outside the window. I hadn’t seen him before because he’d been hidden from my sight, spread out on the carpet beside the couch, surrounded by school books. Dante dropped the pencil he’d been chewing on and climbed to his feet. Fuck.
What was he doing home?
That’s when brutal reality became very clear to me. Mom?
They hadn’t gone out. They hadn’t gone out, and I’d just led certain death straight to their doorstep.
Eva glided into the from like some graceful queen adorned in a golden gauzy night robe, the pale hem rippling across the floor as she grabbed hold of a flustered Dante. She moved fast and with a silent urgency, tugging open the small square door in the wall that opened up to the laundry shaft. Dante barely had time to struggle before Eva propelled him into the small space.
“Hide, Dante,” Eva said in a trembling, petrified voice. “Stay put, and don’t come out...”
“But mom...” Dante fought back, shoving her hands away and trying to climb back out.
Vergil had unsheathed Yamato and stood guard in the doorway, every muscle in his body taut with anticipation.
“No, Dante, you mustn’t come out. No matter what happens, keep hiding. You mustn’t come out,” Eva broke into tears, cramming him back into the confined space with a ruthless desperation. She slammed the door shut on him, and twisted the lock in a violent action.
“Vergil let me out!”
Vergil glanced toward the door, and then at Eva.
“Mom, you need to hide. Get out of here.”
“No – I won’t leave you. They’re after me.” Eva wept, straightening to her feet and striding across the room to his side. She tried to hustle him toward one of the open windows, but unlike Dante who had been caught off guard, Vergil stood rooted to his position.
“Mother, they are after me and Dante.” Vergil gently opposed her. “You must take refuge; I will hold them off for as long as I can.”
He had the storage door open and was pushing Eva into it, when Rambo erupted into fiery red flames and barked a giant fireball in the direction of Kurst and his minions when the fleet blundered through the walls into the room.
Welcome chaos.
Vergil stood his ground, guarding the storage door with deadly swings of Yamato. There was indescribable violence behind every thrust and twist. But I’d been right before – he was outnumbered. Vergil put up a good fight, but the demons overwhelmed him and somehow Yamato got ripped from his grasp, and he was being severely beaten and mercilessly dragged toward the archway. Rambo went mad, setting everything he came in contact with on fire. It left the storage room unguarded, and my heart froze over when Kurst himself flung the door open and roughly yanked a helpless Eva from its confines.
“Mom!” Vergil screamed, twisting furiously to loosen the grip of his captors.
Eva crashed into the television stand and collapsed to the floor like golden lily blown flat by a gust of wind. “Vergil!”
Another pack of demons descended upon his form, and his screams took on the undeniable note of excruciating pain and rage. He broke free of their deadly claws, and desperately scrambled across the floor to reach his sword. His leg was bent out of proportion, and blood glazed the floor in his wake.
“Take the boy alive!” Kurst gargled at his comrades. “Mundus demands it.”
“Wh-what?” Vergil gasped through gritted teeth, and then Yamato was back in its rightful place in his hand.
“No...no...” Eva wept.
Kurst’s head snapped toward her for a second. “Kill the woman.” He ordered dismissively, clamping onto Vergil’s wrist and snapping it like a twig. Vergil didn’t fight them off, yet Yamato didn’t fall from his broken hand when they hauled him from the house.
The shaft door flew open with a barrage of resounding bullets, and Dante ducked out of his shelter. Demons exploded like balloons filled with gory blood.
“Vergil! Vergil, where are you?” Dante’s furious, panicked voice kept screaming.
“No... hide, you fool...” I could barely turn my head toward Vergil’s fearful voice. Kurst and his minions were lugging him through the front door, only a few steps away from me. I recoiled at the sight of all the blood. Vergil’s icy gaze locked onto mine, scorching me with a deep, bitter, frightening intensity that made me drop to my knees.
“You.” He ground out breathlessly.
“Vergil.” I squeaked out.
We were eye to eye, close enough for him to grab me and snap my neck if he’d had the strength. The fire in his eyes dulled when a clear swish cut through the air, and I wrenched my gaze from his to see Yamato’s edge protruding from his back. Vergil’s hands were clasped around the hilt in his chest. He’d driven the sword straight through his heart.
Kurst let out a string of demonic profanities at the unexpected act, dropping Vergil’s body with a roar and kicking it in livid terror. “Mundus is not going to like this.”
It was Thursday. Eva was at the library, no doubt – she attended her weekly book club with an almost religious fervour. Dante was lost somewhere in the city partying it up.
Vergil never left the house without good reason, he preferred to isolate himself within the fortress walls – the few who were privileged to know of his mere existence were Roman and Lorry.
That’s why people who didn’t know the Sparda family well would respond with a blank look when I mentioned ‘the brothers’; that’s why the demon in front of me had no clue that Sparda’s successor in blood and skill had an equally matched counterpart. He didn’t need to know about Dante.
It would be sweet revenge. I’d sworn to Vergil that he would pay for taking away everything I had left. It was only just, only fair, that I make good on my word.
“Yes,” I said slowly, knowing that one single word held the colossal power of change. “I can tell you where you can find the son of Sparda.”
It would be killing two birds with one stone – get rid of that cold-hearted demented dumbass once and for all, and spare Dante and Eva from being hunted down by vengeful demons. So what if it hurt them to lose Vergil? The world would be a better place without him. It was for the greater good – Sparda had always been big on that.
“The Dark Prince will reward you greatly...” the demon Kurst assured in his distorted voice.
“It will be reward enough to see the bastard die. I want nothing else.” I said brusquely.
“Oh, he will perish, as surely as the traitor Sparda had met his demise at Mundus’s hand, so his son shall greet his own end.”
“The only condition I have is that I want to be there to see it.” I said. “I want to look him in the eye when he breathes his last, I want him to know that it’s because of me that he will die.”
The procession of demons following close behind me was as discreet and stealthy as shadows dancing in the night. We weren’t seen, or heard, or smelled. We moved with swift purpose. I didn’t see myself allying with the enemy – this was purely a vendetta against Vergil, nothing more. If I could use others to do that one thing I knew I couldn’t, then why the hell not?
I worried only once on our way that Vergil might actually slice and dice up the demons and laugh in my face. But there were too many. He was outnumbered by hundreds, and these weren’t lesser demons. These things were in a higher rank; powerful demons with sharp minds and intimidating abilities. Vergil didn’t stand a chance in hell.
It was almost funny as the army of devils circled the Sparda fortress, hidden by the embrace of night, as silent as death. The drapes were all drawn open, but the only room in the house lit up was the family den. I sneaked closer to the bay window to get a better view. The anticipation in the air was prickly and oppressive, heavily veiling the night.
It was a black night – the moon had diverted its eye and turned its back to the carnage that was about to take place. The wind was still for a change, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
The light in the room came from the lit furnace, the flames reflecting against the walls playfully, peacefully. Rambo was lying at the foot of Sparda’s old arm chair, and his tail wagged once uncertainly when he sensed me nearby. Vergil was curled up on the chair, completely engrossed in some thick book opened up on his lap. Yamato was sheathed and lying on top of the fire mantelpiece.
Kurst signalled to several others to go round the back. I shook my head at him when he motioned me to join him, and made a slight nod toward the window. I had a good view from here. He understood, and melted around the side of the house.
I turned my attention back to Vergil. The first inkling that something was out of place hit me when I recognized the pale aquamarine and burgundy colours on the cover of the book he was studying intently. That was a textbook – a science textbook from school. What was Vergil doing staring at it with such a deep, thoughtful look?
He lifted his head and looked toward the arching doorway at the same time that Rambo’s head jerked up, ears twitching alertly, and then his fur stood on end and a menacing growl echoed through the room. The dog rose to its feet with predatory intent and slinked toward the arch.
A delicate frown swathed Vergil’s features as he slowly uncurled from the chair. He reached for the katana, and dropped the textbook on the coffee table, looking toward the couch closer to the window.
“Did you hear that?” Vergil asked.
“Mom?” Dante called.
Oh, shit. I felt my eyes widen, and shifted position outside the window. I hadn’t seen him before because he’d been hidden from my sight, spread out on the carpet beside the couch, surrounded by school books. Dante dropped the pencil he’d been chewing on and climbed to his feet. Fuck.
What was he doing home?
That’s when brutal reality became very clear to me. Mom?
They hadn’t gone out. They hadn’t gone out, and I’d just led certain death straight to their doorstep.
Eva glided into the from like some graceful queen adorned in a golden gauzy night robe, the pale hem rippling across the floor as she grabbed hold of a flustered Dante. She moved fast and with a silent urgency, tugging open the small square door in the wall that opened up to the laundry shaft. Dante barely had time to struggle before Eva propelled him into the small space.
“Hide, Dante,” Eva said in a trembling, petrified voice. “Stay put, and don’t come out...”
“But mom...” Dante fought back, shoving her hands away and trying to climb back out.
Vergil had unsheathed Yamato and stood guard in the doorway, every muscle in his body taut with anticipation.
“No, Dante, you mustn’t come out. No matter what happens, keep hiding. You mustn’t come out,” Eva broke into tears, cramming him back into the confined space with a ruthless desperation. She slammed the door shut on him, and twisted the lock in a violent action.
“Vergil let me out!”
Vergil glanced toward the door, and then at Eva.
“Mom, you need to hide. Get out of here.”
“No – I won’t leave you. They’re after me.” Eva wept, straightening to her feet and striding across the room to his side. She tried to hustle him toward one of the open windows, but unlike Dante who had been caught off guard, Vergil stood rooted to his position.
“Mother, they are after me and Dante.” Vergil gently opposed her. “You must take refuge; I will hold them off for as long as I can.”
He had the storage door open and was pushing Eva into it, when Rambo erupted into fiery red flames and barked a giant fireball in the direction of Kurst and his minions when the fleet blundered through the walls into the room.
Welcome chaos.
Vergil stood his ground, guarding the storage door with deadly swings of Yamato. There was indescribable violence behind every thrust and twist. But I’d been right before – he was outnumbered. Vergil put up a good fight, but the demons overwhelmed him and somehow Yamato got ripped from his grasp, and he was being severely beaten and mercilessly dragged toward the archway. Rambo went mad, setting everything he came in contact with on fire. It left the storage room unguarded, and my heart froze over when Kurst himself flung the door open and roughly yanked a helpless Eva from its confines.
“Mom!” Vergil screamed, twisting furiously to loosen the grip of his captors.
Eva crashed into the television stand and collapsed to the floor like golden lily blown flat by a gust of wind. “Vergil!”
Another pack of demons descended upon his form, and his screams took on the undeniable note of excruciating pain and rage. He broke free of their deadly claws, and desperately scrambled across the floor to reach his sword. His leg was bent out of proportion, and blood glazed the floor in his wake.
“Take the boy alive!” Kurst gargled at his comrades. “Mundus demands it.”
“Wh-what?” Vergil gasped through gritted teeth, and then Yamato was back in its rightful place in his hand.
“No...no...” Eva wept.
Kurst’s head snapped toward her for a second. “Kill the woman.” He ordered dismissively, clamping onto Vergil’s wrist and snapping it like a twig. Vergil didn’t fight them off, yet Yamato didn’t fall from his broken hand when they hauled him from the house.
The shaft door flew open with a barrage of resounding bullets, and Dante ducked out of his shelter. Demons exploded like balloons filled with gory blood.
“Vergil! Vergil, where are you?” Dante’s furious, panicked voice kept screaming.
“No... hide, you fool...” I could barely turn my head toward Vergil’s fearful voice. Kurst and his minions were lugging him through the front door, only a few steps away from me. I recoiled at the sight of all the blood. Vergil’s icy gaze locked onto mine, scorching me with a deep, bitter, frightening intensity that made me drop to my knees.
“You.” He ground out breathlessly.
“Vergil.” I squeaked out.
We were eye to eye, close enough for him to grab me and snap my neck if he’d had the strength. The fire in his eyes dulled when a clear swish cut through the air, and I wrenched my gaze from his to see Yamato’s edge protruding from his back. Vergil’s hands were clasped around the hilt in his chest. He’d driven the sword straight through his heart.
Kurst let out a string of demonic profanities at the unexpected act, dropping Vergil’s body with a roar and kicking it in livid terror. “Mundus is not going to like this.”
