The Inner Beast

Mother always held you in such high regard. If she saw you today, she would smile and watch you, with pride shining all too clearly in those beautiful sapphire eyes of hers. If she was alive, she would most likely turn to me, point at you and ask me "Why can't you be more like that?" But mother is not here today. She wasn't here yesterday, nor the day before. Mother hasn't been around for a long long time. Those sapphire eyes are forever closed.

Do you wish to know why?

Because of you, Dante. Because of you.

I watch you carefully as you stride down corridors, as you examine artefacts, as you flick through books that have long been forgotten and only now reawakened. If I close my eyes, I can imagine you doing the self-same actions, yet in the house that we used to live in.

Our house, Dante. Do you remember? Do you remember anything save for the guilt that gnaws at your mind constantly? You should be ashamed or disgusted with yourself if you don't.

One might think that it should be the other way around, that it should be me who should feel sick to the stomach. One might be surprised perhaps, to know that when I turned to the darkness, to Mundus, that I did it not out of love of the darkness but because by giving my soul up to evil, I would be able to gain the power I needed to exact my revenge.

Revenge for what, you may ask? If you do Dante, then you are a fool. A stupid fool that mother should never have died for. Because that's exactly what she did, Dante. She died for you, for me. For us.

But you wouldn't think of that, would you? You were always so dense, always so slow to pick up on the obvious.

If mother saw you now, she would admire you. She was always so forgiving as far as you were concerned. If mother saw me today, her smile would vanish immediately, and the light in her eyes would blow out, just how it did twenty years ago. I don't blame her. After all, I am fighting for the side that our father Sparda fought against in the first place.

Darkness begins to fall as you walk outside. You stare around, your icy blue eyes taking in the smallest detail, yet you miss my shadow as it flickers on the walls. You never realize that I watch every step you take, and you never notice that I walk and stand beside you as you move. We are perfectly in synch you and I, as far as our movement is concerned, yet you never suspect a thing. Like I said, you were always somewhat dense, naive even.

I could take your life whenever I choose, but that's stooping down to the others' level. I don't fight like a Blade, or a puppet. I don't fight like a Shadow though I lurk in them as I watch your progress. I fight like a Sparda. I don't run away like a coward. I don't listen to orders and I always break the rules.

How can you wear the name Sparda with pride when you are no more than a worthless pathetic human that constantly lives in fear? Mother gave her orders that day, and like a weak coward you did exactly what she asked.

I still remember everything that happened that night. I can't forget it. I'm not the one here who's been wronged. The only one who has been wronged was our mother. Isn't it strange that you've come here thinking you can gain revenge for what happened that night when it is I who works to gain revenge?

Isn't it odd, an irony of life that we both work to get the same thing, for the same person, yet we follow entirely different methods? Isn't it strange that you think it was the fault of the demons when it is really your own?

We could have won, we could have saved her. I was so close to saving her and breaking through the horde. Had you stayed, we would have saved our mother, and things would never have come to this.

The fact is, Dante, that you ran when we needed you the most. I stayed to protect Mother. I stayed, I fought and I was taken away as a result. I fought so hard, tasted my mother's blood in my mouth as demons tore her apart. I did everything I could to save her.

What did you do?

You ran.

And she died screaming your name.