The only audible noise was the irritating, stirring and yet calm sound of leaves slowly wafting through the air until they eventually alighted on the bare ground, some even next to his feet. Sometimes a light chirp cut the silence and if he didn't know better he'd say it was a bird. But birds didn't exist where he delayed. And so didn't pity.
It had been a just as always monotone day back at where he found himself. Raising his Katakana sword the silver-haired man rammed it into the already numb body of something similar to a deer, not hesitating to repeat his movements over and over again. The pure red, the satisfying sound of a sharp blade cutting through already dead flesh calmed him and brought back this evil smirk of his which, within the last months, had turned into his token.
Slowly pulling the sword out Vergil shoved it back into its scabbard, not even bothering to wipe the read liquid away. Yamato wouldn't stay clean for long, so why even polish it? At this thought Vergil shook his head, almost amused by the mere idea of stopping to kill. How would he be able to enjoy the softness, the touch of any emotions without it, then? No, stopping his actions only made him frown and he quickly shrugged this thought off.
The second his little "manoeuvre" was over his smile faded away, leaving back an emotionless expression on his almost numb face. Clearing his throat the man turned around, his navy blue coat swiftly swinging in the air, hoping he'd soon find another target. Another prey. At the least anything to occupy himself with. It was just then that he heard a familiar voice, a voice that used to plague him every night in his sleep and so he flinched, in the blink of an eye turning from a cold, callous soldier to a small, powerless ant buried underneath tons of horrifying images.
"What have you become?"
Vergil bid his lip. He was doing his best, truly trying to force himself to ignore the pained words of his dearly beloved mother's voice, yet every single letter got under his skin, sharply ramming small knives directly into his heart. Vergil's gaze fell until he finally faced the floor, swallowing as he hardly could control his breathing rhythm.
"Did you save me from that thing to break my heart?"
Vergil clenched his left hand, the other burying itself in his silver hair as he started to grab it, roughly tugging it in order to ignore the voice. And then he heard it, his own call, yet without his own lips even moving.
"He was always her favourite!"
In the split of a second Vergil eased his fist, just to get a hold of his sword as he quickly pulled it out, Yamato making a cutting noise as it sliced through the air. It took him the blink of an eye to turn around, ramming the blade into his previous victim again, cutting through flesh, veins, bones and whatever crushed into his Katakana as he was screaming, screaming louder than he'd ever had in his life.
"Shut up!" he shouted, continuously driving his sword against the lifeless body, almost animally. "Shut up, I don't want to hear all of this!" But the voices continued and so did his movements, only his speed increasing proportionately to his mental and physical fatigue. It was poisonous, lethal, dangerous, luring. Agony was luring. Happiness was luring. And slowly everything that had begun to tear him apart approached its success. And with a last, bone-cutting beat Vergil once again thrust his weapon into the body before exhaustedly collapsing next to it.
"You betrayed us. Me and your brother."
"Look who's on top now."
"Where's your heart?"
"Finish what you've started."
"She's always loved him more. How he could follow his heart."
"Everyone that you love has turned their back on you."
Vergil buried both his hands in his hair, again trying to shut the voices up, to stun the pain. Utterly Unsuccessful. And as he looked up, his own blood mixed with a thousand of other human's one staining his hands his eyes widened, almost in shock staring at his palms as his pupils swayed, a clamorous cry escaping his trembling lips.
"WHAT HAVE I BECOME?!"