Broken
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Summary: Dante at his lowest, when those shadows of doubt and guilt rear their ugly heads. He's not always the cocky, spitfire everyone is accostumed to. My first Devil May Cry story ever. I hope i did well.
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All was silent save for the dripping of neverending blood.
A strangled couh echoes in the still air as a mangled figure breaths once more,
it's lungs functioning again.
That never ceasing flow of blood splatters on the ground when the figure moves to stand.
The figure is pale, paler than pale, and covered in wounds of all sorts, mostly deep slices.
The wooden foorbourds creak as the pale, bloody figure walks ever so slowly to sit at the ancient vanity.
The figure, a male, slicks back his silver white hair with a bloody hand, staining it red.
A sigh left thin lips as the figure stared into his own ice blue eyes through the mirror.
devil eyes.
Blood and eyes that refuse to die.
Salten water rimmed crystaline eyes, flooding over in thin streams of tears.
Devil may cry.
How ironic.
Ice blue eyes drift over to the gaping wounds.
Self inflicted harm.
Time and time again self inflicted,
And yet each attempt ended in failure each time.
Why was he not allowed to die?
To escape this mental agony he went through each and every waking day and dreaming night?
To simply end it all?
Had he not killed?
Protected?
Hated?
Loved?
had he not lived his life to the fullest?
Feasting on Pizza and strawberry sundaes.
Taking on small jobs and big jobs.
Running up tabs.
Had he, Dante, Son of Sparda, not done enough?
No. of course not.
He wouldn't be allowed to die just yet.
A bell in the distance tolls the hour.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four
...four in the morning.
The sky still black as pitch.
The moon still casting it's gastly glow upon the lesser world.
And all is still as the Son of Sparda gazes upon himself while he heals with the time of a clock.
All is silent.
All is still.
But not everything is peaceful in the night.
A crash resounds in the closed room.
Fragments of glass fall to the floor, away from the devil's fist.
The never ceasing blood trickles down the remaining few shards of reflection.
Tears turn to silent sobs.
The shattered mirror reflecting all to show that the devil so strong is in all reality brocken like the mirror.
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Review please?
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