Thanks to those who supported me. If you want to see more of this, Dark Knight 2 is up in my other pen name: Devil Sunday. Go to my profile and you'll see the link. The continuation has more action and adventure, a more kick ass, mature Lady and the same bad ass, cold half devil Vergil.
Dark Knight: Orions Tears, Part 2
"You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe,
deserve your love and affection."
"Go on, Vergil, do tell my daughter. She's waiting you know." My father taunted. It brought an edgy response from the half demon and I can tell he tried to avoid his annoyance beneath a calm front.
Vergil looked at me and though his face softened, I was met with cool light blue eyes, which I've become so familiar with, "I think, Arkham, you should call for a doctor and then I shall dispatch all to your daughters ears."
"It shall be done," was my father's reply, but he looked at me with those different colored eyes and with a swift retreat, walked out of the room. When Vergil and I were alone, I eyed him with a kind of confused doubt; my voice I hoped was steady,
"There are so many things I want to know. Why have you locked me in that place? Were you not exchanging your solid form to come out of there by using me as a medium?"
He nodded his silver head, "Naturally."
I began to fidget from his truth, preparing myself for the worst, "Then if I didn't get out of there, I'd be there forever. What was I thinking?" The truth was now seeping in, making me feel horrible again and I was disgusted at my inability to trust.
"Before you think of all the horrible things that I am, Lady, there are things you should know……Just once, slow your mind to understand this…"
His voice calmed me and I settled back into the couch, my leg felt as if it were on fire and my once brave front came tumbling down like dominoes. The tears fell down my cheeks and I cursed my weakness. I cursed the broken leg, my awful luck, my father's harshness and my mother's own mental health. Most of all, I felt like cursing the devil himself. Right here in front of me so it was with shame that I wiped the tear with the back of my hand. I nearly reached out to the other tear but Vergil brought out his hand to stop me and with the gentlest touch, used the pad of his thumb to wipe away that remaining tear.
"It has always been difficult for me to cry." He openly stated, "I never saw the need for it. It is such a human trait. I've always wanted to be like my father, who was by right, stronger than the Prince of Darkness himself."
With this bit of news, I remained somewhat callous, "So? I'm sure guys don't cry that often and I'm sure demons like you don't." I wanted to sound harsh really, but the pain in my right leg and in my heart wouldn't stop. Just great, my leg broke and now I felt my heart breaking….
"Yes, devils may cry, but you'll never see a devil cry now would you?" His light-blue eyes sparkled with icicles and if I had looked closely, I might have seen something else. He continued jokingly, "After all, demons don't cry for those they love."
"How could demons love?"
"Indeed. Vile creatures we are. Are we not?" He countered with another rhetorical question, although I knew he was mocking me, challenging my prejudices over such as his fathers' kind. This made me aware of how terribly like my father I could turn out to be...I didn't want that.
We looked at each other for a moment, but the noises coming from my father's laboratory made us jump and he stood up quickly and ran towards the noise, a curse on his lips.
I struggled to get up, the pain shooting through my leg but I was determined to find out what had happened. My father, knowing him, would be doing something horrible again. It was so predictable. What awaited us, I would try to be prepared. So I leaned purposefully on my left leg, grabbed hold of one of my father's poker stick nearby and slightly hopped towards the noise. My gun now strapped to the leather ties around my thigh was now loaded. As I stood at the entrance of the laboratory, there stood Centaurs by the huge towering dream contraption and they were holding my father's limp form. The shock I received took away any pain I felt at that instance.
Vergil stood there, his sword in his grip and was about to raise the sword until the Centaurs called out, "If you strike us here you will be responsible for this miserable humans death." And the cold candour from Vergil stilled my blood, "Better by your hand than mine."
It was the bearded centaur Vergil spared for my sake. The horror of their presence here; the open skylight displaying mythical creatures in the reality could not be more astonishing. Everything with my father's will to pursue the Sparda blood and power went beyond my own realities for he had not only in his obsession brought myth and magic into the world; he had brought with it an inexchangeable curse. Vergil's superior quickness dodged the blow the first centaur charged, taking a step back, giving himself some room, to hit harder with a downward swipe on the flank of the horse.
The centaur felt the flat edge of the sword from his attacker and quickly lifted his hind legs to buck, his voice angry," Fool demon! Are you trying to spare me again?"
Vergil reacted with such smooth movements as he sidestepped to avoid another assault, making the other centaur seem bulky with their aggressive attacks. His counters and deflecting abilities made me watch him as would a snake charmer charms their victims. Vergil slid back from each blow, his silver blue eyes glinted with a sense of amusement and avoided another attack, feeling wind brush against him from the speed of the hooves that came crashing upon him. As the centaur charged again, his opponent brought his blade down with a smooth downward u-shape swing, which sent the half breed slamming over the metal tables, breaking them and the items made shattering noises upon gravity impact. There were arrows flying but they missed the mark each time.
My father awoke with a groan in the grip of the other centaur; there were three of them, one throwing his weight around at Vergil, attacking with brute force, the other shot arrows at the demon. The one holding Arkham held the neck securely that when he came to; he had nearly choked out with his legs flailing in the air, screaming with a sort of fear, "No! I brought you here so you could get revenge on the demon! See! I brought you to him!"
"Foolish mortal," The proud centaur who held him wore disgust in his voice, "We don't take orders from anyone. Nor do we care to be fooled into your scam to get what you want."
My eyes scanned everything around me and seeing that Vergil had brought down his sword on the ankle of his opponent, putting all his weight behind the strike, it would end the fight without killing the beast.
Gun shots fired in the air, sending bullets over their heads and out into the open skylight….they were from my own gun. My fingers twitched as it pulled back the trigger, holding it down, commencing rapid fire all along the walls and sending bullets to take them by surprise.
I had hoped it worked; they all stopped and my voice, sure and steady, called out," Mind telling me all what the hell is going on around here!" my eyes shot over to the bearded Centaur, his face heavily drenched in sweat from the small battle. And being such a huge beast, it must have been difficult to fight in such a small enclosure despite how large the laboratory appeared.
My fathers voice was the first to call out, "Mary my dear, these centaurs came out of the machine trying to threaten my life. I can only thank Vergil here for interrupting their purpose." When the words were out, the centaur holding him spat out,
"Lying human, you brought us here for your own agenda so that we would kill him!" His head indicated towards Vergil and as soon as the words were out, he was being choked again only enough so that he couldn't make out any coherent words. I felt nothing but pity for him if even that I should feel. He was pathetic in his evil genius; pathetic and weak. It is perhaps why he wanted Spardas power. Or why he needed Vergil.
The half demon laughed," Botched up your plans, did it, Arkham?" He sheathed his blade into the scabbard and turned to the bearded centaur that was now injured, "I know your breed and they are not the lying manipulative kind, so you tell your version of the story."
"It is just like my friends have said, demon, that scheming old man brought us here to destroy you. We do not want quarrel with you anymore than you with us. We merely wanted to give him a slow death, but not before we have returned to our realm." He ended with a grave stare, his proud chin raised up and I knew that he was telling the truth.
I shuffled myself closer, my gun still in my hands pointing at them, my voice rising, "Father! Return them to their world. They do not belong here…" I trailed off, my leg now starting to hurt and I nearly fell from the shooting sparks that appeared like fireworks behind my eyes. The next minute I was in Vergil's arms and my weight fell on him. I still held on to my gun.
"You should have stayed where you were, little girl, this is no place for you in your condition."
He said that so matter of factly that it incensed me, "I want to make sure my father does what he has to do…and don't tell me what to do!"
"Your little spit-firing personality isn't on display here, Lady, what is important is your fragile condition." Without waiting for my reply, he turned to the others, "Well? Are you not going to allow her father to return you back to your homes?"
The bearded centaur, the one called Roland considered this with a comment, "We would like that, yes, but there is another condition……."
"If it's within our ability to give you that condition." Vergil laconically replied, his eyes lit blue-fire that held authority.
"Then this is what we want…." Roland agreeably nodded.
It was days, weeks later that everything seemed to calm down to normalcy. Many things came clear to me. Vergil gave me his version of the truth as well. He had been contacted by my father suggesting to him about a dream contraption in where Vergil could meet his father in the netherworld. And to extract power and strength so as he could be just like his father, but he didn't realize how much like his father he was.
Since my father wanted more than just Vergil's presence inside the dream realm, he would have to devise a way to get the soul of Vergil's into his own. Arkham wanted more than just the Sparda bloodline; he wanted Vergils spirit and his essence. Of course by Vergil trapped in that realm, he'd be able to procure his goal by sapping bit by bit of his demon spirit. Hoping in his devious plan to incorporate that through the machine but things went awry and he had to use me. This was where father had failed to realize that although my human chromosomes had the perfect sequence of purity and laced with his own tainted blood, my father forgot to include my mother's pure soul, which was already incorporated so deep within me.
Realizing too that Vergil had to get out of the realm through me, he had to devise a plan to make it so that he was in league with Arkham, so as to get exchange for his parole out of that place and to take revenge on my father. The exchange was so that he would give Arkham what he needed, only so that he may see his father. Leaving me in the realm was part of the plan, because he knew that I would not sit idly by and cry myself with pity when I was left alone. He had known my own spirit better than me. My father also tried to have a back up plan, which enabled him to have Vergil's form unsolidify in the real world, but that went awry as well. There were more details I needed to know, but right now, I realized through the peaceful clarity of my mind how Vergil came to be:
When I thought he was being cruel to me, he was trying to be merciful. When I thought he was trying to destroy me, he was trying to save me.
I thought he was not only beautiful, in a marvellously severe and unsmiling way, but also kind and good.
A Knight with the powerful darkness in his veins: A true dark knight.
Vergil walked over to me while I lay there on the bed; pillows propped up behind me. As for my leg; the doctor said would heal remarkably for it would have a clean break since after all, I was young and active. I pushed myself over so that he could sit next to me. The light from the window streamed sun beams on the carpeted floors and along the bed; lines of shadow and light creating a vertical design and everything looked as magical as in the dream. It's amazing how days seem to be so much more glorious when everything was right in the world. Thanks to Vergil, he had extracted my mother from the institution. She was healing astonishingly fast; her mental capabilities it would seem were stemmed from the fact that my father's brutal mental abuses caused her.
It has been only a few weeks and the manor was alive; where once was obscurity and gloom that hovered in every corner is now replaced with light touches of poignant past memories. Memories of my childhood, before the abuse, before my father's growing desire for power and his vicious behaviour to my mother. She must know, instinctively that he was gone because her eyes sparkled with mental awareness and called me by my first name.
He brought me a glass of water and I drank it. My eyes watched him through dark sooty lashes and afterward, he carefully took the glass away, setting it upon the table and settled himself next to me. Somehow, the intimacy of our situation didn't seem so scandalous since the past few weeks; we've been together so often. We even sparred several times, though my condition with my leg was most challenging, t'was not impossible. Those were fun. He was such an accomplished fighter and I was only grateful that he didn't always take it easy on me. I liked it when he actually allowed himself to fight me with some of his true might. Though I got pretty bruised and banged up from those fights, barely getting away. Though I think in truth, he always refrained in the end at least for my sake. How much my human bloodline must seem so weak to him in comparison.
Would not a demon like him who wants so much to be like his father want to be with a female demon? The thought had crossed my mind a few times. I have oftened wondered of the sadness I sometimes see in the depths of his light-cobalt eyes. He mentioned a twin brother once before during our conversation. Was that the cause of his deep sadness? Or the father and mother he has lost? Whatever the case, we were both a like in our tragedy. I've lost a father through evil and his parents have been taken away. The only family he has left is his twin brother. Somewhere out there. Maybe one day I shall ask him about Dante.
His thoughtful expression turned to me and I felt like cuddling deeper within the folds of the fluffy pillows at my back, my hands resting peacefully by on my lap. My right leg on the other hand was fully secure with bindings and the pain no longer bothered me. Our conversation turned to the events past. Vergil broke the peaceful contemplation surrounding us, his voice a soothing balm for my senses,
"T'would it be presumptuous of me to presume that your father's fate is rather fitting? After all, he had created the dream machine for you and me. A noble gift returning the favour really."
He was looking at me for confirmation, or for approval in my eyes and a feeling of mischievousness rushed to me, motivating me, because he above all things, inspire me,
"It was so fitting. As the good daughter that I should be, perhaps I should for my fathers sake wish he'll be happy in that realm. And yes, Vergil, it was genius really. A fitting prison. It's a shame because it's such a lovely imprisonment. The centaurs wanted to kill him with a slow death as their plan, I know, but I think this was most generous of you. Serves him right."
Vergil raised a sleek white brow at me, "What a worthy compliment coming from you, Lady, since after all, demons were never your thing."
"You're right. They still aren't. But….I'll make an exception for you."
"Ah, another compliment? Two in one day? Can I expect more?" He was teasing, I knew, but it was nice to see him play with me. I think he will always play with me in that way. I hoped that he would. That he would always spar with me, in wit and battle.
"Just promise me one thing….," I gave him a knowing look; my eyes gave him an impish appeal, hoping for a more flirtatious expression. The effect was not missed by him.
"What…" his whisper was hushed.
"That you'll always call me Lady." I breathed and a blush crept suspiciously around my cheeks, suffusing me with embarrassment. I didn't know why. It was truly the first time I felt this way.
"Your wish is my command, Lady…" He trailed off and allowed his hand to touch mine, raised them to his lips and kissed them while his eyes never left mine. Then turned my hand over and ceremoniously kissed the scar there. He leaned closer and with the lightest touch, kissed the scar that slightly grazed my nose. This definitely made the whole situation between us very intimate, but I wasn't shocked or frightened. The feeling I felt bordered on scandalous. I knew he wouldn't do anything I didn't want for he was such an honorable devil. Just like his father….
The Legendary Dark Knight….
I lowered my eyes, knowing full well my entire body must be suffused with blushes. Though my own voice betrayed me. Silly me……, "Are you going to kiss all my scars?"
"Why, Lady, I like this side of you." His silver-blue eyes glanced at the scar along my leg, "I was actually planning on it…"