(AN : Okay. So, I'm not dead. Surprised? You should be. This is probably the first thing I've written since… oh, I don't know… like last July? I wrote it for my very good friend Bustahead, a.k.a. Simi, for her birthday. I actually started writing this before DMC3 came out, but after I played a little bit of it I went back to this and used some dialogue from the game. So… yes. It's Vergil-centric, just because I wanted to dive into his mind a little bit. He's got quite a complicated personality. Anyways, enjoi.)

Blood Bound

The boy shrank away from the scorching flames, looking around wildly. He wrapped his long nightshirt around his tiny body and shivered, despite the immeasurable heat in the room. Orange-blue flames danced a dangerous game around him as his beautiful home fell to ash. He quickly put a hand to cover his face as he felt himself begin to cry.

"Mom! Dante! Where are you?" he said softly, trying hard to raise his voice but failing.

The fire quieted for a moment, long enough for Vergil to hear the scream of his little brother. The cry ended abruptly as he heard his mother talking over the roar of the flames for Dante to calm down.

"Vergil! Where are you?" she cried over the flames, rocking back and forth with a tiny Dante curled up in her lap, hanging on to her for dear life.

As Vergil was about to cry out to his mother for help, he stopped as he saw a pair of red eyes in the orange of the fire. In the flames, a black mass moved itself easily through as if it could care less about the heat. As the figure came closer, Vergil could see a reptilian face, connected to a huge, rotting body that stank of meat. The last thing that Vergil could remember seeing was sharp yellow fangs glinting in a blood-oozing mouth…

Vergil chuckled as he opened his eyes. Why, of all of his memories, would he think of that? He remembered he had almost died that day. He remembered how his eyes had still been covered with a child's innocence. He had had a lot back then.

Now what did he have? Two dead parents and an annoying twit for a little brother.

Come on Dante. Don't you remember your own childhood? We used to be such loving brothers. Twins, even! Twins are supposed to be bound together with a bond tighter than any other bond in this world.

Vergil chuckled again. He couldn't help it. Even thinking about once being so naïve made him smile.

Don't you worry, little brother. I'll fulfill father's true nature. This human world won't remain pure for too much longer.

Twirling his Yamata, Vergil looked back to Arkham, who was sitting on one of the magnificent sin statues, reading the book that he had been carrying with him for so long.

"Does he still have it, Arkham?" Vergil asked, looking down again from atop Temen-Ni-Gru.

"Yes, he still has it. He's been taking good care of it. Why wouldn't he, seeing as it's the only memento left from your dear mother?" Arkham smiled as he looked back down at his book.

"But he has no idea of its true power." Vergil held onto his half of his mother's amulet, imagining it completed after he had attained Dante's half.

I still think I may love you, little brother. But don't think my blood ties will stop me from killing you, if I must. Nothing will impede my dream. Nothing.