Damned Soul

The Second fan-fiction in the "Arson" series. This is a sequel to the first instalment, "Into The Flames" and it explores Arson's childhood. Warning: this may contain some upsetting material in the first few chapters. Another thing to warn everyone about is the fact that this fic was written one hell of a long time ago, before I even came to I decided to keep this fic in its original form, how it was when I first wrote it. That way, it will serve as a reminder to me of how far I have come since I first started out. I think I first wrote this fic in the year 2001 or so, a week after Devil May Cry 2 came out. My memory sucks so I can't really remember the exact year. But I know I was in my early teens when I did this.

So here it is, Arson's second fic. I hope you all enjoy this. I thank you all so very much.

Chapter 1

The boy slowly opened his eyes and smiled as he became aware of the sunlight that was filtering through his closed curtains of his window. His eyes slid towards the clock that lay on his bedside table. The boy's smile grew wider. His father would be coming into his bedroom soon to tell him to be a good boy, and to have a good day.

The boy loved his father more than anyone or thing in the world. The strength that his father possessed was incredible, but yet he was always so gentle and kind and loving. The boy loved it the most when his father called him by his favourite pet name, "Little Man". It always made him feel so grown up.

Minutes ticked past. The boy looked at his clock again. His dad was usually here by now. He was probably having a lie in. The boy knew that his father often had to work late, or go out at night, but he always came in, no matter what, to say hello. He would be coming soon.

Another hour ticked past, and by this time, the boy knew for certain that something was terribly wrong, and that he must go and investigate. He walked out of his bedroom and into his sitting room to be met with the sight of his mother sitting curled up and crying on the sofa.

For a few minutes, the boy did not know what to do. He stood there, watching her quietly. His mother didn't even seem to notice that he was there. At length, he quietly went up to her and put his arms around her, not sure as to what to do or say. It had always been his sister that cried, and whenever she was upset, his mother would always hug her and tell her not to worry. It seemed so strange that now it was he who was trying to comfort his mother. Slowly, he looked up into his mother's face.

'Mom? Where's Dad?' His mother's crying stopped abruptly and her eyes rose slightly so then they were staring directly into those of her son. However, she said nothing. 'Mom?' To the boy's vision, the soft brown eyes turned hard and angry and then shone with new grief, as though his mother had seen something about him that she didn't like. A dark cloud had even seemed to paste itself on her face, which was usually soft and cheerful. But now, the boy could see the stress and anger.

'Go to your room,' she said sharply.

'But-'

'Just do it!' The boy scampered back, unnerved by this sudden change. He had never seen this side to his mother before, and it frightened him. The boy lay on his bed, worried for his father. Maybe he had just forgotten. He'd be here by the time he woke up. So it was that the boy passed into an uneasy sleep, that was constantly riddled by disturbing dreams.

He woke up coughing wildly. His eyes stung for some reason that was unknown to him. He called out for help, but no one came. His eyes began to run, and he felt as though he were blind. He struggled hastily into his clothes and staggered out of his room. The sitting room was veiled in smoke and flame.

He ran outside after checking the rest of the room for any sign of his mother or twin sister. There had been no one. The boy had realised that he had been left alone to burn to death. Why hadn't anyone tried to wake him? Why had he been left behind? Questions ran through his mind, and scared him all the more.

Once he got outside, he stood by his sister's side. She didn't even acknowledge him. Her eyes were on the inferno. The flames seemed to reflect in her eyes, making them glow with a faint tinge of red. By this time, a congregation of people were standing outside, the thought of calling a fire station escaping everyone's mind as they stood and watched in awe as the building was rapidly eaten up by flames.

'It's arson,' said one woman unnecessarily. The boy's mother said nothing. The woman continued. 'You can tell that the fire started in your son's bedroom. Someone wanted to burn this place down, and wanted to get rid of the children first!' His mother's glazed eyes turned slowly onto the boy, who shuddered as he saw the hate filled glare.

'Yes…' she said flatly. Her eyes blazed with hate. 'It's Arson. Who else could it be?'