You are my mirror
And I'm on my knees pleading
You are my mirror
Oh, don't stop loving me
I can see the changes within me
What I feel or what I need or what I've become
I still feel I'm your slave and I hardly ever lie
I need you like my faith in the divine
You are my mirror
And I'm on my knees bleeding
You are my mirror
Oh, don't stop loving me-Mirror, Claire Voyant

DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:

This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to): domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!

Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna, Miguel de Cerna, & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.

This chapter also has elements of self-harm.

Victoria let out a blood curdling scream as I looked over my shoulder to behold Miguel—the man revealed by fate to actually be my stepfather-uncle and the man who I thought I had killed long ago—standing in the doorway, a wicked smirk on his face.

The afternoon sun streaming through the windows cast a long, dark shadow over him, obscuring the other side of his face like a mask. A haze of dust floating through beams of light appeared around him like smoke, making his sudden unholy appearance like the Devil himself.

He was still as ugly as ever; a neatly trimmed beard peppered with gray and dark brown framed his face, disguising the horrific marks I remember accenting his face from before, his dark brown hair slicked back in an oily mess. His dark eyes gleamed with malice and hate.

I bounded off the bed in a heroic leap, placing myself between him and her.

"You!" I roared.

Victoria cowered behind me. Her body shook violently and I reached back to grab her wrist in an effort to comfort her; her pulse raced beneath my fingers, just as mine did. I glanced back to see the horror in her eyes.

"Miguel! Ai, Déu mieu!" she crossed herself. "It can't be!"

"I killed you!" I hissed. "You were dead!"

"Evidently not...did you really think your pathetic little blade could kill me?"

"If your heart was not so small I would not have missed, Uncle!" I sneered.

"She finally told you the truth, did she, boy? Well done! I would have never believed she was capable of it!"

She took my hand, silently lacing her fingers through mine tight. Her fear radiated through me like an electric shock, but I was not afraid.

"But are you certain she told you everything?"

I turned to her, putting my hands on her face, pressing her forehead to mine, searching her eyes for a moment.

"We have no more secrets?"

"No! No, my love, no more secrets." she promised.

"You two make me sick!" he spat.

I turned to him, secure in my devotion to her but he merely smirked at me.

"She's a whore and a liar and she will say anything to get what she wants. I tried to warn you, boy, but now it seems I am too late."

She pressed her face against my back.

"Don't be afraid," I whispered to her. "I'll protect you."

The reminder of her betrayal stung my heart for only a moment as I let my hatred for this evil man consume me.

My jaw set and I let go of her hand, my own balled into fists of rage.

"This is not your fight, boy. It never has been. She's poisoned you, she's poisoned our whole family. Best that we rid ourselves of her now." he growled, his voice as cold and cruel as I had remembered.

"It has always been my fight! Our fight. She's my mother, my blood. She's never done anything to you, ugly pig! I swore to protect her and I will!"

He snarled at me.

"Do you think that just because you believe yourself a man now, I won't kill you where you stand?"

I snickered and began to circle him. My heart raced like the adrenaline in my body as I prepared to bring this beast finally to bey.

"I am more of a man than you will ever be, Uncle! I do not beat defenseless women and children for want of a big cock!" I sneered. "Come and try it!"

"With pleasure! After I kill your whore of a worthless mother!"

"No!" she screamed, bolting in front of me. "You won't harm him!"

He backhanded her, sending her flying back against me, her lips bleeding. She collapsed to the ground, covering her face. Before I could react, he kicked her in the stomach.

"Worthless bitch!" he spat.

She groaned, bile erupting from her mouth and she began to crawl away.

"Crawl! Crawl like the bitch you are, you wretched excuse for a mother!"

I watched with horror as the same scenes I had witnessed as a child began to play right in front of me. It was only a few seconds, but I was utterly paralyzed, watching helplessly as she crawled back against a wall like a beaten dog.

"Victoria…" I muttered, digging my long manicured nails into my palms, blood dripping down to the floor.

"Get out of here!" I cried, my fury blinding me, and I laid a kick solidly to his chest, pushing the burly man back, knocking him against the edge of her vanity, knocking a lamp over.

Wheezing and growling, Uncle Miguel came lumbering towards me, swinging his fists wildly. I easily ducked and dodged his attacks.

"So you've learned to fight, eh, pussy boy?"

I gave a furious growl, throwing a high kick towards his ugly face. To my surprise, he caught my foot, twisting it and throwing me across the room. I landed on my back and the force knocked the air out of me for only a few seconds. I shook off the blow and sprang back to my feet.

I only had a second to glance back at my beloved mother as she tried to crawl out the door. The ugly brute followed my glance.

"Where do you think you're going, slut?" he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. Something ominous grew in his eyes and he grinned.

"No one will save you now. They're all gone…"

She gasped and moaned, sitting up and holding her stomach.

"What-what have you done, Miguel?"

"I've waited for this day for years! Do you think I want witnesses?"

Her eyes widened with terror but he simply continued to grin at her.

"The servants are fine. I've given them time off—fully paid—which is more than they deserve but, I cannot afford distractions, now can I?"

His distraction worked in my favor as I swung a kick to his head and chest, my foot crushing his ugly nose. Miguel staggered back, his eyes watering and blinded by my attack.

I laid a few more quick punches to his face, pushing him back again in his disorientation.

Miguel roared like a bear, reaching towards me to grab me but I was too quick and I dodged his attack.

He spit out the blood, erupting like a grotesque fountain from his nose.

"You fucking bastard! I'll kill you!"

"Not before I do, Uncle!"

Something shattered over his head as I realized it was the rose vase she had broken over his head; blood began to drip down his head like a ghastly rain, and he staggered to the ground, momentarily dazed by the blow.

Victoria screamed as he lifted his head with a grunt and crawled along the floor like a snake. He grabbed her foot and she tried to fight him off, kicking him in the face with her other foot, her high heel digging into his cheek. He continued after her, grabbing the other foot as she tried to kick him once more and she fell.

I scrambled to get over to her. This beast would not devour its prey—I would not allow it.

With a cry, I reached around his torso and flipped him again over my shoulder and he made an impressive crash. I grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head.

The monster hobbled to his feet and began to charge toward Victoria once more, but I jumped in his path.

A ghastly sight indeed, with his broken, bloody nose and the blood pouring from his head, he began to resemble a creature from a horror movie.

"You little bastard!" he hissed, although I was hardly little. My tall, slender frame towered over him. "I do not know who taught you to fight, but I should kill them, too!"

I kicked him back and he struggled to keep his balance as we stood a few feet apart.

"Why, you should know! Marc Antoní Gauldera, of course."

The burly man's eyes widened and then narrowed, glaring back at me with a scowl.

"That Communist bastard!" he roared. "He taught you that savate kickboxing bullshit? I should have known..."

He roared, grabbing for me and it gave me the moment I needed to gain leverage.

I jumped into the air, landing on his shoulders and pushing off, locking his head between my legs and throwing him over my shoulder. He landed on the chaise lounge at the foot of the bed, forcefully shattering it into pieces.

Slowly the monster rose again, picking up one of the broken legs of the chair. I spun around, kicking the makeshift weapon from his hand, scraping my nails across his face.

"How like you to fight like a girl!" he snickered. He spit the blood out as it ran down his face and into his mouth.

I smirked at his feeble attempt to insult me, sauntering over to where the claw case laid on the floor, near the mantle.

I strapped on my claw after removing it from its black velvet lined case. Victoria cowered behind a large armchair.

I stretched out my clawed hand casually, the steel blades gleaming in the light.

"Had enough?"

"Kitty has claws now, does he?" he retorted.

With a growl, I swiped his arm with my claw, satisfied to see him bleed and I drew my tongue across the blades with a smirk.

"I'm going to gut you! You'll never hurt her...or me ever again!" I hissed.

He groaned, covering his wound with his other hand, spit foaming at the corner of his mouth.

"I never beat anyone that didn't deserve it!" he paused his outburst with a groan, "She...sh'isn't worth it, boy. She drove this family into the ground! Your own father died because of her insolence! I warned my brother she was trouble but, no! He wanted her." he growled. I could see the spit flying from his mouth.

"My father was killed by a bull! She had nothing to do with it!"

"Oh no? She's the one who led him to the protests! She's the one who told him about the people fighting against the government—"

"Liar!" I roared, swiping his chest with my claw.

I had taken far too long to corner and kill this beast. I was losing patience and the blood was starting to dry on my claw. I would not be satisfied until his blood painted it red and he lay dead.

I circled around him, anxious to end this fight. He spun around frantically, trying to hit me but I dodged at each strike and paid his misses with more cuts across his arms and chest. I danced about him, laughing at each clumsy swing.

"Toro, toro…" I taunted.

His frustration grew the more I hit him and I could see him slowing down.

Every matador knows it is exhaustion that kills the bull; the killing blow is just a final mercy—one which I was not ready to give. I wanted to torture him for the years of pain and suffering we had endured.

My uncle Miguel growled and continued on his tirade:

"I am the liar, am I? Bah! It doesn't really matter! I had to save him from being executed by Generalíssimo Franco! I had to beg that wretched man to let me keep my wealth and title! Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to beg a man like him? My little brother was a shameful mark on the family that deserved to die! If I had known all the trouble it would have caused, I would have let General Franco take his head!"

"You monster!" my mother screamed.

Desperately holding his chest and his arm, he wheezed and gasped.

"And you, woman! You are nothing but a sniveling slut! Carrying on with two older men at the same time! In the same bed, no less!"

She approached him now, I could see a fierceness in her eyes, her face blackened with tears.

"No…" she sobbed. "I loved them!"

"You loved nothing but their money and their cocks! Gold-digging whore!"

"Mother! Stay back!" I turned to her, urging her to stay away. Unfortunately, this left me vulnerable to his next attack.

He grabbed the brass fire poker from the fireplace, wrapping his arm in a chokehold around my neck from behind. I flailed, trying to pry his arm from my throat and I could feel the prick of the fire poker pressed against my neck.

I gasped for breath, my vision blurring. I knew if I did not find a way to escape, he would kill me—and her.

"'Mother', is it now?" he hissed in my ear. "She's a whore! She brought you into her bed! And you call her 'mother'? ¡Por Dios!"

"Let him go!" my mother screamed.

I continued to flail desperately in his grasp, her voice ringing in my ears. I worked my arm free and reached down behind me, grabbing his testicles. Not something I would ever imagine doing but, he did not deserve them anyway.

I made a quick elbow jab to his ribs as he staggered back and I somersaulted back behind him. I never liked fighting so close and that was a reminder of why.

"Don't you dare hurt my Vega!"

"You make me sick, woman!" he groaned. "Look at you! I took you off the streets. Destitute and destined to become the whore you are...you're an abomination, Victoria Maria de Cerna! A poison, a festering cancer in this world!"

Before I could react, she lunged at him, pounding her fists on his chest.

"You did this to me! You did!" she screamed.

In that moment, there was deafening silence and I heard nothing, not even my own heartbeat. And then, there was a mournful scream coming from somewhere, realizing that it was in fact, coming from me. It was something inhuman, the sound of primal agony.

I sprinted to her with all my strength, only to catch her as she fell into my arms. Miguel had driven the poker deep into her chest and we fell backwards to the floor.

Miguel stood before us with a horrific grin, the poker dripping with her precious blood. I lifted her in my arms to see the ghastly sucking wound in her chest. Her body lay limp and her warmth began to fade.

"You're still nothing but a nancy-boy, still begging for his mamá! It's no use fighting it! She poisoned you and you are already dead."

Blinded by fury, I rose up, her body sliding gently to the floor and I began to swipe at him.

"She...never...did...anything...to...you!" I roared, punctuating each word with a cut across his chest and neck.

He made a horrific choking sound, blood beginning to spray down on me like a warm rain as he collapsed to the ground. I fell to my knees. I was shaking so violently, my vision blinded with my tears as I crawled back over on my hands and knees to her, my heart completely ripped from my chest.

"Victoria! No! No no no! You can't leave me! Please, no! Stay with me, stay stay stay..."

I hugged her against me, rocking her.

"I won't allow you to leave me! I won't! If you die, I will die, too."

Wracking pain consumed me; I was dying as the light died in her eyes and I would never allow it to happen.

I drew my claw down my arm, cutting it open. I lifted her head, pouring the blood into her mouth.

"Blood! Blood is the life...blood is the life…" I whispered, rocking myself; I had read that phrase somewhere before, the Bible maybe, but I knew as in all things in my life, blood was our salvation. "Drink, Victoria! Drink! You have to! Please!"

I felt no pain as I watched my blood gush from my vein into her mouth, though undrunk, and I prayed that it would save her.

"You have to take it!" I whispered frantically. "I don't need it now. Just live!"

I hugged her against me tight, rocking her, and not daring to let go.

I drew my lips against hers, tasting my blood mingling with hers and I remembered all those bloodied kisses she gave me as a child, sweet and tender, after being beaten so mercilessly by Uncle Miguel. How it must have hurt her lips to kiss me then, but she always comforted me no matter what.

The smell of the blood overwhelmed my senses, its copper tang sharp in my nose, yet sweet on my tongue like a holy ambrosia. In my mind, I could scarcely register the fact that this would be the last time I would ever feel her lips, or smell her scent, or hold her.

Death and I had become constant companions over the years, but my beautiful mother was the one person I had hoped he would spare—even if I knew it was inevitable. I would have given myself to him if she could live again.

I held her close again, continuing to try and feed her more of my blood. It overflowed from her lips and ran down her mouth, the dead blood already in her mouth seeped out dark and thick like some foreboding ooze.

Through my tears, I could see her eyes open and lifeless, the sunlight shining through them and making them glow like crystal. She could no longer see me.

I felt strong warm arms around me, dragging me from her body and I could vaguely register a voice.

"Vega! We have to go! You're dying!"

I began to kick and thrash from their grasp, desperate to get back to her.

"No, come on! We don't have time for this now, Vega! You'll die! She's gone now, she's gone."

It was Marc Antoní, of course. I had no idea how he found us or when he had gotten there, but it was obviously too late.

"Let me go, bastard!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

The more I thrashed, the harder he held me, using all of his strength to control me. I stopped moving for a moment and I felt his arms around me, pinning me from behind. I felt his warmth against me and it was a strange, yet welcoming sensation. My voice was hoarse, my mouth ached and my throat burned.
I felt cold coming over me, a chill running up my body, and I felt pressure on my arm as he had torn up his shirt to wrap it around my wound.
"Damn you, Vega!" he cursed. "I have to get you to the hospital—now!"