The Crystal Sarcophagus

Autor's Note: Thank you to Deaththewolf32 and XIII Xemnaz for following this story.


PART 2

The thinking entity that once had been Vergil was trapped in darkness like a mosquito stuck in amber. There was one crucial difference though. The mosquito was dead. He definitely was not. Sometimes he believed death would be preferable to the daily torture of his memories and thoughts.

Daily, yes. There were regular periods that he was 'out'. At first he thought he lost consciousness for a while. He had presumed those periods would become longer and longer with shorter and shorter clear moments in between, until he would not come round again. When he started to have vague memories of dreams, he realised that he had slept. Not that that was something to be happy about. It just added dreams and nightmares to the torture of memories.

Whether or not his 'days' were really twenty-four hour periods, he could not tell. They just felt that way and he had had a lot of them. It felt like an eternity which no doubt meant he had been trapped for years now.

He realised his entrapment was changing when he had a sensation of greyness rather than blackness. Quite some time back it had seemed to him that the darkness that surrounded him had become less dense, but he had just assumed it was because he had gotten used to it. Now he thought that perhaps what held him trapped was losing its power. He struggled to get free but failed.

Instead of being trapped in solid blackness, he was seemingly floating in a grey, featureless bubble, surrounded by a substance that became less dense, and possibly brighter. Intermittently he tried to break free but he never succeeded, and afterwards he just felt drained. One day when he woke up from a refreshing, dreamless sleep, he felt power surge through him. He willed himself to break out of his prison. The darkness fractured. Light flooded his consciousness and he soared up into glorious sunlight. Beneath him lay the remains of Mallet Island. Charred rocks and a few bits of wall were all that remained of the fort that had once held him. How much time had passed since his defeat? Years no doubt, judging by the lichen and rock pools, seaweed and nest of seabirds that covered the ruins of the island.

A strange feeling flooded his entire being. He could not place it until a memory that had caused the same feeling came into his mind.

"Vergil, Dante, you are now old enough to start your training. I want you to continue my legacy, become knights, defenders of the weak. Therefore I will give each of you a sword that in time will be yours and only yours. Vergil, I give you Yamato. Take good care of it and it will serve you faithfully."

Back then he had felt the same. And he knew what it was. Joy. For the first time since his childhood, since before the day his home had been destroyed, he felt joy. He was free!

The joy did not last when he realised that he was bodiless. He was like one of those lowly demons forced to possess a human's body in order to hold something, or feel something. He did not relish the idea that he was doomed to wander like a pointless ghost.

Of course, Mundus had not allowed him to die. Transferring him to the armour had threatened to fail, until they incorporated his amulet in the Nelo Angelo body that would be his prison. What had happened to his one link with his mother? Destroyed with the body? Probably. And what if it had not been destroyed? Would it still be there among the remnants of the island? Or could his brother have found it? When the body shattered, was it possible that one piece, the heaviest no doubt, could have fallen at his brother's feet? Dante would have picked it up, of that Vergil was certain.

And what about Yamato, his beloved katana? His last memory of the sword was charging at Mundus, Yamato in hand. He had no idea what had happened to it afterwards. Had he used it as Nelo Angelo? Had it been destroyed, or was it lying somewhere under the rubble?

There was no point in looking for the amulet or the katana among the debris of Mallet Island. Nothing was left of the courtyard where he had fought and lost the last battle with his brother. If his amulet and Yamato had not been destroyed then they were in Dante's possession and Vergil knew where to start looking, Capulet City. If Dante didn't live there anymore, then perhaps he might find out where his brother had gone to.

ooOOoo

Vergil's spirit rode the currents like a bird. Sometimes the currents took him off course but as long as he travelled in the general direction that was a minor irritant. More annoying was that he still fell asleep, just like he had done when trapped in the darkness.

At first he had tried to ignore the tiredness. Ghosts didn't feel tired. Even bodiless demons didn't feel tired. He continued on his way. Not until he had been jerked out of his sleep because he was plummeting down from the clouds, did he accept that he had to stop for the night. He settled in the crook of a tree. He could somehow 'feel' the tree. As a spirit being he could pass through solid objects like walls, trees, or living things, and yet there was a strange kind of substance to him – or at least a feeling of substance – that allowed him to 'sit' in the tree.

Every evening, when sleepiness overtook him, the ghost that was Vergil settled down for the night. In the morning he would wake up where he had stopped the previous day. Occasionally he would have a feeling of darkness and being enclosed, just before becoming fully awake. At first he thought he had been dreaming of the darkness that had held him trapped for so long. One morning he did wake up to darkness. He could not move. However much he hated being nothing but a bodiless, lowly entity, it was vastly better than being entombed while fully conscious. He could not bear the hopelessness and helplessness of it. He tried to trigger to break out of his constraint, but nothing happened.

He was wondering what he could do to escape the darkness that suffocated his spirit when a disorientating rush pulled him out of his prison. When the dizziness had disappeared and he could focus again he recognised the area as the place where he had stopped last, hopefully the night before. The only logical conclusion, he decided, was that his consciousness was drawn to his body every night, only to be flung out of it again when waking up, ending up in the place where sleepiness had overtaken him. Perhaps it was this connexion that gave his spirit the strange sensation of being physically there.

ooOOoo

In time, he arrived in Capulet City. He knew exactly where he could find his brother's shop if it was still in the same place. When he saw the cheap neon sign above the shop he knew Dante was still there. Only his brother could choose a name like 'Devil May Cry' and advertise it in the colour of a common brothel. To his annoyance he could not get in because of the protection Dante had put in place around the building. He realised that even as a ghost his only way in was through the front door with a customer providing his demonic side was not detected.

He found that Dante's business was definitely not booming. He had to wait until evening when a young woman approached the place. She grabbed the door handle, hesitated, let go of it again, and turned to go. Vergil felt frustration bubble up inside him at the dithering female. She had only taken a couple of steps away from the entrance, when she turned around again, grabbed the handle firmly, pushed it and opened the door. She walked in and surveyed the inside of the office while holding on to the door handle, as if she still wasn't sure that she would stay. It gave Vergil time to go in as well.

He heard his brother's voice.

"If nature calls, the bathroom's in the back. If it's business, close the door, come in, and tell me what the problem is. You're in luck; I'm in the mood for some action."

"It's my brother," the female explained. "He's always hanging around with these people he calls his new friends, but I don't trust them."

"Surely the kid's allowed to have some fun, babe. Don't be so hard on him."

"I think these friends are actually demons, and I'm afraid that they mean to harm him."

"What makes you think that? Teenage behaviour can be pretty obnoxious. Doesn't mean they're demons though. Cut the kids some slack, why don't ya?"

Vergil didn't listen to the woman's reply. He was looking for the amulet but wasn't sure where he could find it. When he approached the desk, he came closer to his brother. Dante suddenly sat upright, looking round him, sniffing the air. The woman had stopped talking. With a puzzled look on her face she stared at the man she'd come to for help. When he stood up the red leather coat opened and Vergil saw the Perfect Amulet on a chain round his brother's neck. He grabbed the amulet as it was, with both his and Dante's part forming the powerful gem.

Only when his hand went through it did he realise his predicament. Despite feeling his arms, legs, and body, he could not use them. It was the same as an amputee still sensing the amputated limb.

He had been thwarted again. He had wanted the amulet, because that would make everything okay. He had been sure it would bring his body back to him, but of course in order to grab the chain and take it from Dante he needed his body in the first place. Coming to his brother's place had been foolish. The result of rampant emotions, not logical thought. At least he knew exactly what he needed to do: locate his body. He still could not bring himself to possess someone, like the female in the room with him and his twin. It was beneath him, dishonourable.

He retreated to a spot near the ceiling, away from Dante, whom he heard mumble, "That's impossible. He died."

He realised his brother had felt his presence, perhaps still felt it, though not as strong now that he had moved away. The woman distracted Dante further.

"Who died? My brother didn't die!"

"No, of course not. Where does he hang out? I'll have a look at those friends, and I'll do what needs doing. Okay, babe?"

"Thank you, thank you for believing me. They're always at the old Park Lane Movie Theatre. They say that used to be a temple long ago."

"I know the one. You go home. I'll take care of the rest."

The woman hadn't heard the slight shift in tone, but Vergil knew that his brother was concerned. He knew why too. In the beginning of their search for Temen-ni-gru, Arkham had presumed the temple underneath the Movie Theatre was the foundation for the mighty tower. Later they had found out the temple was dedicated to Abaddon. Not long after they had located the correct site of Temen-ni-gru. The boy was indeed in danger if demons had taken him to the temple of Abaddon The Destroyer.

Humans were not Vergil's concern though. When the female opened the door and looked back at Dante, thanking him again for his help, Vergil slipped out. He had a new mission: to find his body. Once he was whole again, he would come back to claim his part of the amulet and Yamato. He was sure his brother had it, stacked away somewhere amongst his collection of Devil Arms.

ooOOoo