Os iusti meditabitur sapientiam,

Et lingua eius loquetur indicium.

Beatus vir qui suffert tentationem,
Quoniqm cum probates fuerit accipient coronam vitae.

Kyrie, fons bonitatis.
Kyrie, ignis divine, eleison.
O quam sancta, quam serena,
Quam benigma, quam amoena esse Virgo creditur.
O quam sancta, quam serena,
Quam benigma, quam amoena,
O castitatis lilium.


Kyrie, fons bonitatis.
Kyrie, ignis divine, eleison.

O quam sancta, quam serena,
Quam benigma, quam amoena,
O castitatis lilium.

'Come Son of The Traitor...let me show you, what your Father has refused
to show you...a world or pleasures untold...' Came a voice, laced with a
startling amount of hunger and bloodlust that nothing would ever quench.
Nothing...on this plain...

'Ngn...lay not a hand upon me you lecherous wretch! I do not care to know
what you have to offer! L-Let me be! Unchain me! I said uncha-..' His reply,
though hastened, was cut off by a sudden blow to his stomach. The air
rushed out of his lungs as he fought back the urge to scream, refusing to
give the beast what it so yearned to hear.

He could only bow his head, allowing the blood that had pooled in his
mouth to trickle down his chin and onto his already crimson stained chest.

There was a brilliance before those that were observing his
punishment...seeing such a beautiful creature covered in deep wounds,
painted red by the color of his own essence and bound by barbed wire...
It was truly a sight to behold.

It had been...years since he arrived down here. This Hell.

Here, time did not stand still. No, it progressed far faster then what was
deemed normal. Down here, in this pit; years could pass. Centuries
even...while up on earth...only days would go by.

Cruel...is it not?

He had endured a Millena of tortures...tortures that would scar the Hunter
for the entirety of his life.

The silver tresses that were normally kept bound in a pony tail had grown,
gracing his ever changing form. The length had come to be down to his
ankles, hanging in tangles down around him, stained red in various places.

Truly...he was beautiful.

'Come now, sweet pet. You mustn't argue with teacher. This is not up for
debate. You will feel the new pleasures I've thought up. I wish to see that
beautiful face enraptured in my delights.' That voice, turned malicious.
There was something laced within that sent a chill through his heart and a
spike through his resolve.

He was unsure of what would happen...but he knew it would not be pleasa...
Dimmed hues of azure grew wide, shaken by the images that stood beside
that beast that had been torturing him. Those figures weren't meant to be in
this world...it was not meant to be here...

'F-Father? Dante?' He shuddered, hope coiled in his heart as he looked up
to them, pulling against the makeshift bonds that dug into his skin.

'How...how did you come here? Have you a way out? Please...tell me!'
However, as he spoke, dread coiled in his gut at the sight of them looking to
one another, their grins sickening, making him want to wretch. He jolted at
the sight of them stripping, his pulse slowly rising, adrenaline rushing through
his aching form.

They...they meant to...

'F-Father...please...you don't have to do this...fight them...make them stop.
Don't let them do this to me...don't...Dante. Make them see reason!' He
spoke, this time, fear laced his voice, he was terrified, not wishing to endure
this torture. Not this, anything but this.

The Dark Knight strode over, his gait commanding the attention of those
around them, those observing the torture. He took hold of the silver hair
atop Vergil's head, yanking his head back, making him look up. 'You would
do well to listen to your new Masters.'

His eyes snapped wide open, his face quickly paled before a scream tore
from his lips.'N-NOOO!'

Sitting straight up, he let out a ragged scream that shook the very windows
in the room he had taken up refuge in. Sweat ran down his body, soaked
the bedding under him. His face, every inch of him had become pale. That
memory...that time that he had spent in Hell...would forever haunt him.
Looking down to the scars covered his hands, wrists, his upper arms...every
inch of him was scarred. Forever a testament of what he had survived.

What he had escaped from...

But to what cost? To what end?

Was he truly free? Or would Abidel come for him?

Come back to claim his prize?

His stomach lurched, quickly pulling back the sheet, he fought down the urge
to scream as he limped to the bathroom. Thankful that he had tied back his
hair, he hunched over the sink as he wretched.

It had been days since he had eaten...he wanted nothing...needed nothing.
He wished only for those memories to cease. For those touches to go

The ache to subside.

For it all to end.

When he had finished, he slumped down against the wall, breathing heavily
as bile ran down his chin. He was a shadow of his former self. This...he had
to get past it...he had to.

Or his escape would be for naught...