The Sparda family household was silent, but for the soft pitter-patter of children feet. It must have only been one o'clock in the morning, but past the silence of the vast mansion, the giggles and footsteps of young Dante and Vergil could be heard throughout the hallways. Tonight was a special night, and they had a self-proclaimed mission that only they could fulfill.
The boys tip-toed past their father's study, past their mother's office, and into the living room where the large evergreen tree sat, giving off a soft glow from the red, blue, and purple lights that hung off of it, glittering in the reflections of ornaments that the boys themselves had put on it merely days ago. Dante and Vergil both crouched behind the couch there, peeking just above the backboard attentively, trying to see if something in the scenery had changed.
Nothing.
The family's empty stockings lay in front of the tree, nothing new had been placed to accompany the four presents that had already been placed there by each member of the family. The cup of milk and the three cookies hadn't been touched. Something was bitterly wrong. The same thoughts were running through both of the boy's minds. It's already one in the morning... Each of them thought. How could Santa have forgotten us... even all the way out here in the woods...
Both half demons took a tentative glance toward the hearth. A fire shone brightly in it's place, a few embers falling here or there to create a crackle and a sizzle and the pop of oxygen startled them every now and then. They listened closely, for any sound of boots against the chimney, or hooves on the roof. It was almost half past one when they heard a sound from inside the chimney, a scuffle, a soft curse.
Moments later, a large figure collapsed into the fireplace, it's boots almost snuffing out the fire completely, but in the ebbing glow of the embers both boys could make out the lower half of a large man, a bag of misshapen objects next to him, with his trousers tucked into his boots and a coat that hung near his knees. The man shuffled himself out onto the hearth and the boys watched in awe as he reached into his bag and pulled out package after package of neatly wrapped gifts, placing them under the tree that they had decorated with their family. The man took a break when he was done placing the presents under the tree, and Dante and Vergil saw him chuckle at the sight of the glass of milk and three cookies that sat on the end table waiting for him.
He ate one, then two, then finally all three and took a gulp of the milk. At last he put a gloved hand into his pocket and withdrew a small notepad from his coat, along with a pencil shaped like a candy-cane. He scribbled something down and placed a note on the plate that had held the cookies. Then, when done with that, he filled each of the family's stockings before going back through the fire, and up the chimney again with a powerful jump and a gust of wind.
Dante glanced over at his twin brother and Vergil glanced back, both sharing the same expression of awe. Suddenly, neither of them felt like being in the living room anymore, and both scuttled back to their room, quieter than before, hiding themselves with half-demonic stealth.
When the Sparda twins awoke the next morning, Christmas Morning, they scurried downstairs, and had a quick breakfast with their mother before they heard their father calling them from the living room. The twins went out to meet their father, still in his purple pajamas, a rare sight (for neither had often seen Sparda lounge around in his pajamas and slippers), and a note in his hand. "Well you two must have been busy last night," He said, handing the note that the demon twins had seen Santa write the night before.
Thanks boys- S.
Simple enough, yet each twin felt a thrill through their spines at reading the curved letters over and over again.
It would be about noon, after boy boys had unwrapped shiny new swords, Dante's Rebellion and Vergil's Yamato, that Vergil would notice the S in the letter looked vaguely like his father's own signature.