Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or any of its characters. I am merely borrowing Vergil so I can torture him to death. :D

Rating: K

A/N: I am taking some time off from Breaking Point, as I'm a little low on ideas, and I wanted to take some time and talk to the little plot bunny I met on my vacation time. :D This is our conversation. xD (I'll get to updating Breaking Point…eventually…)

The eldest son of Sparda hacked through teeming masses of devils that surged like a massive tidal wave in front of him, the high-pitched screams of death becoming increasingly quieter as the majority overloaded his acute hearing.

He was getting out. After all these years locked away in the highest-security dungeons after Dante defeated Mundus, he was going to make sure he made it back to the human realm.

Hell was in chaos.

Now, one would think hell is always chaotic. But this was much different. There was a great battle for power amongst the most formidable demons in hell, leaving their minions without someone to keep them in line, and they plagued the human world unchallenged. Vergil had considered dueling the other great demons for the position, but decided against the idea. His energy had slowly drained away all the time he had spent locked away. The charmed shackles that leeched away his demonic energy most definitely didn't help, either. So, what better time to escape than now?

Dante must be busy.

Finally, he had cleared a path to the portal that led to the sixth level. One down; only six more to go. Oh, weren't things looking up for him?

Unfortunately, a cloaked figure barred his way. He gripped the hilt of Yamato harder and glared at the shape.

"Want some help to up there?" the figure asked, its glowing crimson eyes glittering mirthfully at the chagrined half-demon. Vergil instantly knew who that figure was.

The figure was known as what we humans know to be the Grim Reaper, but she collected the souls of sinners who were condemned to hell. She was bound to the powerful devil Mephistopheles, once one of Mundus closest advisors, but great enemy. As many say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. He had seen her several times in Mundus' court when he was Nelo Angelo, when she was called to his bidding and collect those who had signed over their souls to him. It was common fact that she was one of the oldest demons in existence, as she was created to mirror God's angel of death when Lucifer deemed himself ruler of the Underworld and became the root to all evil. She was also proclaimed to be immensely powerful, as she had many a millennia to hone her fine skills, and could effortlessly defeat those in power, had it not been for the constricting seals that bound her to a master.

And he had never seen her face. She was quite cheery, considering her current post. Vergil rather despised it. It reminded too much of his own brother and mother.

"I don't want your sympathy, woman," he growled threateningly, his icy azure orbs burning with anger.

"You're in no position to issue such threats, Son of Sparda. So, you can take my sympathy whether you wish to or not."

With a wave of a slender, lovely hand, an invisible force snaked around Vergil's strong, lean body, and he became aware of his limbs growing numb. His beloved Devil Arm fell to the ground with a clatter.

"Now, I do believe you are going to need that. I will save it for you for a later time."

The being of the sword expelled into an explosion of many dark molecules, and flittered gracefully into the large sleeves of the female's robes. "I will call for it when we return to the human realm."

She turned her back to him, and with a swing of her great, and terribly beautiful, scythe, a pulsing, glowing blue portal appeared before them like a giant beacon, beckoning them to Vergil's first home.

"Vergil, Son of Sparda, Hell doesn't want you, and Heaven won't accept you. But, it seems, that Earth has a need for you. And I could get you there much faster than you could on your own. If you didn't die from exhaustion and starvation, or even by getting killed, you would die from old age."

"How would you know?" he muttered, still utterly infuriated at her interference.

Her voice suddenly became very weary and forlorn. "I have seen many brave, clever demons, many of whom I became rather fond of, even from afar, try to reach the world above. They all failed."

"My father did it."

"And would you believe he had my help?"

Vergil scowled even more fiercely. There seemed to be no way out of his current situation.

"Do not worry, Vergil. I don't think I would be bad company." She gazed around with her uncanny eyes, spotting an undulation of heavily armed devils.

"And I believe we should be going…"

Before Vergil could retort, she flickered in front of him. She pressed her slim fingers against his forehead, causing him to flinch from surprise and pain. Her fingers were tremendously cold against his warm forehead. A sudden warm, soft sensation drifted over him and made him feel pleasantly drowsy.

And as she scooped him up in her arms and fled into the portal, his world faded into black.

Reviews= LOVE

(Let me know if you like it, so I can talk to that plot bunny some more, possibly!)