Summary: Based off the DMC3 mangas, set one year before the prequel. Events are accurately said, but not the situation, so some Code 2 spoilers. Definitely used artistic license and tried to keep in character. 3rd POV is very hard to write for me.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;

--Poe.

The basement was cold, icy and smelt of burnt flesh. Vergil watched Arkham at his work, taking out the books to show off his extensive knowledge of the ancient words. They were still in good condition, yet the pages were lined with yellow stains and the half devil watched the middle aged man wipe off the small book worms aside. Arkham had finished off translating half a book of the history of ancient demon mythology to Vergil, droning on and on about how the most powerful demon decided to wage war against his own kind. The young half breed tolerated the entirety of his tale, until the older man mentioned the human female.

"Are you done with your ramblings? I'd like to read a few of those books if you don't mind?" Vergil laconically replied, giving his somewhat new partner an icy glare, his arms folded, then pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and walked towards the other man, "The seals? You said the seals are the seven sins?"

Arkham smiled eerily, "Of course. They are in areas you would never find. But we must take one step at a time and in due time, the sins can be visualized from the outside, not from the inside of man's soul."

The silver haired young man snorted, tired of the bald man's tirade. His icy blue eyes scanned the books that the older man had just taken out of the shelves. Faded blue and red books alternating in sizes, but the one that Arkham kept with him by his side was the fading color of red and tucked it inside his starch dark grey attire.

Arkham had a very patient nature, but his eagerness in Vergil's company kept him going on and on. The knowledge that the true son of Sparda was within his presence held him in awe, yet he bided his time. He slightly bowed in the half breed's direction,

"If you wish, you may glance over them. Are you familiar with the language?"

He asked this question hesitantly to the younger man. The room was encased in shadows and the smell was disturbing even to Vergil who wished eagerly to be away, just to get away from the room and sit quietly so he could scan through the texts to find anything. The silent slumbers of his lonely years were comfort to him and he tolerated the presence of the older man, because he knew that Arkham had devoted his entire life to the history of his family. It didn't matter to him if he talked about his father, for it was the mention of his mother that incensed him into any action.

"I understand a little." Vergil finally said.

"Good then, if you have any problems, I can translate them for you."

Vergil said nothing and took two books. As he enclosed his gloved fingers over them, Arkham interrupted him, "You may sit out on the balcony upstairs and I also have many rooms. That is of course, if you also wish to read in one of my quiet chambers, but I recommend the view from the west wing. Fascinating moon out don't you think?" He had paused from his little chat, to find acknowledgement in the younger man's eyes to find nothing, so he continued on, "The color of the lunar eclipse is much more deadlier to the human eye than the solar for the effects of it can lure a mans soul without him knowing, or understanding, while the sun……."

The older man was beginning to grate on Vergil's nerves although he needed him for his purpose, he'd come to understand how much Arkham had acquired. Not only did he understand the ancient words of demonology, but had all of the amenities from hell. Instead of shutting him up, Vergil walked away, ignoring the incessant chattering of the old fool. Though the moon was indeed unusual tonight, he ignored the reference of it. The rows of skulls lined the cabinets, deep sunken eyes seem to watch him and the half breed remembered each memory of the past. When those emerged, he would become a full devil, beckoning him to tap into his father's powers. But they always brought a faint loss of memory and sensation, the human side of his emotion. The strong sensations he felt were overwhelming, dominating his every need and desire and if he could take more of his father's full power, he would be able to avenge the death of his mother and she would be proud of him.

He gritted his teeth; a muscle along his jaw ticked and he became silently angry thinking about her. About the time of his youth and all the things that could have been, but would never be. And so he wandered aimlessly for so long in his late childhood. He could not return to his brother until the moment for the re birth into his twins life.

As he walked out of the basement and into the center of a great hall, Vergil looked up from that heart of the room to view rows and rows of stairways spiraled upward to many levels. The demon powers in him pushed his body upwards, with elegance and finesse, to fly up high on one of the floors. His sharp blue eyes had focused on a floor where there was light from one of the long gothic windows.

The momentum of his push from the floor brought him upwards, finally to soar down gracefully on the 6th floor. The last dying rays of sun filtered through the windows. There at the end of the hallway, he glanced at a small ghostly figure of a little girl, about the same age of the time he left his mother's death to the demons. His eyes flickered over to her long blonde hair and freckles, the innocent look on her baby face registered not recognition as she walked towards him.

Her small voice, eerily floated to his ears, but she didn't make any sense and spoke the language of the ancients. Vergil disregarded her and found a place by the window. Ghosts came in and out of his life and he cared not of their incessant chatting either. The world, from the human, demon and the realm of the dead left him scarred. Though the scars healed from the outside, his insides were cut up so deeply that only a mother's love could save him. Finding a high backed chair of velvet material, this cushioned his weary body as he resignedly sat back and closed his eyes for a moment. He leaned his elbow on one armchair and pushed his silver hair back with the other hand. Taking a deep sigh, he glanced over at the empty street. There was a small figure encased in shadows approaching. A female figure, but the ghostly small girl came up to him, interrupted him before the woman walking on the streets could show herself in the dying light uncovering her appearance.

"Vergil." The little girl said, "Your mother's amulet. Do you have it?"

He glared at her, drew his silver brows together, narrowing his glacial eyes, "What is it to you? Are you here to be watch dog over me? Was this Arkham's intention for me to relax and read in one of his rooms only to be hounded by you?"

"Beware, Vergil. Beware of the blood black moon."

She faded from sight, flickering on and off, then vanished. The half breed stood up and took his satiny blue jacket off, the books inside he carefully pulled out of his pockets and noted the edges of the pages, torn and saw-toothed. When he opened it from where the bright blue book mark sat inside, the pages smelt of strong acid and cedar. Placing his jacket over the chair he sat back down and was glad that the ghostly girl had left him.

"What is with these ghosts? They become incoherent as they remain on earth too long."

Returning to the book, his light blue eyes scanned the pages; his long fingers traced the wordings and with some difficulty couldn't decipher some of the text. Some words he could recognize, but the letters were mixed, and he thought of the variant ways he could try and solve the puzzle.

Meanwhile, Mary walked towards her home and she heard a thousand wings from a distance and looked up at the heavens above. A large white moon had already graced the sky and she wondered at the noise, but then at that moment, what appeared as birds from a great distance flocked together across the moon, encasing half of it in a faint crimson shadow. Mary watched them fly off until they disappeared from sight.

She paused before the gate and saw a girl there. Mary looked down and noticed that she was crying. "What's wrong? Are you lost?" The girl didn't answer then Mary looked about if anyone was around and found no guardian or presence to accompany the little girl.

"Will you play with me? Yes, I'm lost." The wraithlike girl suddenly said, as she lifted her head up to gaze at Mary.

The ebony haired young woman smiled as she kneeled down beside her.

"Do you know your address number? I can bring you back home." The girl didn't say anything and Mary continued with her probing, "Or….you can come inside my home and we'll call the police and ask around. Maybe your parents have reported you missing."

"No. I don't want to go inside." The little girl shook her head. Then the sound of flapping wings returned and the youth screamed, "Blood black moon!" She pointed frantically, and started to fade off.

Mary's eyes widened, "What?" she looked around, "What's going on?" She was getting rather tired of all the strange occurrences around her neighborhood lately. No one seemed to notice, but she did. All her friends were acting very strange, whilst she, untouched by everything around her, found to her disconcertment, acts of deprivation.

Standing up, she straightened, then backed up against the gate, looked back up to the sky and noticed that the 'birds' grew larger in number.

She turned around and opened the entrance to her home, pushing the black ironed gates forward. After locking them up, she ran to the other side of the manor, close to where her room is situated.

Upon entering the large room to her house, the entrance hall was quiet and echoed her steps. She knew her mother was upstairs sewing or keeping herself busy and she wanted to talk to her before she turned in. Ask her about the strange girl that she encountered.

But something pulled her towards the West Wing. Her father was down in the basement as usual and she never went down there. She did once, when she was little, but found to her dislike the foul smell of animal and flesh to be very disturbing. Kalina Ann told Arkham that she didn't want Mary to be subjected to his laboratory. It was just as well, because her father didn't want her there anyway, but he didn't mind her snooping around either. He called it free will to Kalina. Let the girl look if she wants. But she didn't really care to.

There were times when she was curious and wonder at his research, but found to her dislike again that she never wanted to ever come back there. Her father told her he had to do extensive study and that he was a skilled professor in the history of demonology, occult, forensics and the dark arts of magic. Said that it will be for greater good of mankind and to teach it to those who are ignorant of this and that the world would be a better place if people knew about the darkness in their souls.

She was so very young and very naive.

The West Wing was the most beautiful area of the manor. She liked it there and it was peaceful and it had great big tall windows where you can see the whole entire block of the city streets. Also, on one side of the west wing, there was the view to the park.

Mary treaded upstairs, her slender fingers touched on the black lacquered banisters, her long legs moved gracefully up the winding stairway and finally she was on the 6th floor. Walking up and down the long halls and the multiple stairs gave her much exercise. When finally she came to the area of one of her favorite spots in the manor, she saw him.

A tall man with his back to her. White hair, or was it silver? Short and glazed back, his midnight shirt fitted well on his body, the dark pants fitted very much. She realized this must be one of her father's apprentices. Or one of father's strange house guests?

He turned, revealing his face and their eyes clashed, blue and red with the iciest eyes. They were eyes so cold they immobilized her for a moment.

"Arkham's daughter I presume?" Vergil said with a slight disdain.

He raised one sleek white brow and his eyes didn't miss a thing. She was an innocent. Unlike her father. He snorted, and inwardly thought, how the hell did Arkham sire this woman?

Even as ridiculous the thought was, it still made him laugh out loud despite himself.

She was immediately offended, "I'm sorry? Did I miss a joke?"

"Nothing," he straightened, his eyes never left her face, but they strayed over to her body, then turned back to his former position, "I'm just reading some of your father's books."

"Oh." She nodded, "Pardon me for disturbing you."

Mary closed her eyes for a moment, then backed away, walking hurriedly away from where she came. Her heart was beating a little too loud against her chest. His eyes! She told herself that she wasn't afraid of anything, but his penitent stare told her many things. And in her own, she had seen more things than any normal human could.

This was inherited from her father.

Though young man's eyes disturbed her, they were filled with the deepest sorrow and regret that hollowed the fine masculine bones of his aristocratic face. She was instantly overcome with a tug of compassion.

When she approached her room, Mary opened them only to find the ghostly figure of the little girl she had seen outside. "How—what? Why are you here? What is your business?" Mary gasped out, wondering the cause of this little girl's haunt.

Mary had seen ghosts in her short life, on and off, but they never disturbed her, but this one, this one was the first one to talk to her, insistent enough to be in her room.

"Mary, the blood black moon! It's coming! Beware!"

She faded in and out again and then disappeared, but before she did, she said one more thing, "Your father is down in the basement. That young man is going to help him open up the blood black moon."

When the room was empty again, Mary stood there and gripped the door handle, then without another thought, walked back to the stranger.

The stranger must have been expecting her. He raised a sleek brow at her in question as he proceeded to don his leather, satin-esque jacket on him, "By the look in your eyes, you want to know my business here?" he paused. There was a slight change of atmosphere in the air. Vergil took a quick glance over at the window.

"What's going on? Who is that little girl, the one with the freckles and long hair?"

The stranger lifted the corner of his lip, narrowed his eyes and chuckled deeply, "I have not the slightest idea what you are rambling about."

"Then how does she know you? This girl, she's a ghost." Mary started to stammer, realizing she might have been too forward, "I'm sorry, for some reason, I had this idea that you may know of her existence." She shook her head to clear herself. Blinking away her embarrassment, she blushed furiously, thinking, she was going mad.

He slightly sneered, "If you're going to go around listening to ghosts, then I suggest you ask them."

"Look," Lady took a long steady sigh, "She mentioned you and my father."

"Did she, by any chance, tell you about some outlandish admonition as well?" His whispered silky voice grazed on her skin like the touch of a feather.

Goosebumps prickled her as the ghostly figure of the girl appeared again, "No, no! Your father will be angry at me! You're not supposed to be together!" Then she cried, her tears ran down her freckled cheek. "Now the blood black moon will be here and it's my entire fault…" then she sobbed into her chubby hands.

Vergil peered down at the unearthly girl then back at Mary, "I take it she's a friend of yours?" he derided, "I don't really like the sight of tears, but if you can't keep your little friend here to stop from crying, I'll just leave you two…." He bowed slightly, tipping his silver head slightly so at her, in a mocking gesture, and a stray lock fell over his forehead, giving him a boyish appearance against his masculine features. "You know, since you are familiar with ghosts, they do tend to fall into the despondent disease of a failing perspicuity."

Mary bit her full lips, wondering why this man grated on her nerves, for normally she was a good unassuming girl, never impolite, but her senses left her as she blurted out sarcastically,

"Obviously, as you're friends with my father, that's more important…."

Vergil suspended any motion to speak, watched Mary kneel down to the girl and whisper something soft to her, assuring her that there is no blood black moon out.

But at that instant, the moons glow was shut out, encasing the entire hallway with darkness, shadows lifted faster as the eclipse descended. Vergil's eyes glanced over to the window, noted the demonic entities that covered the moon.

He cursed beneath his breath, the muscle along his jaw ticked and he gripped the handle of the Yamato by his side.

Mary looked up, noted the darkness of the room and the little girl disappeared, her sobs could be heard as they faded from the lengthy hallway.

"What's going on?" Her eyes flew to the window and in a split second, the statues around them that stood at each corner of that room came to life. Vergil hurriedly used his projectiles quickly, as like a mercurial god, faster than the human eye could witness, but Mary's own were witness to them. The statues exploded before they could move towards them and the night closed around them.

Mary knew her way around the manor and tried to backtrack her steps, recalled where the flashlights or candles were put away. But before she could move, the young mans presence was at her back. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her slender neck, "Not so fast. It's very dangerous for you to leave my sight."

"This is my home. I'm not afraid." She breathed out.

"Yes, I know." He silkily drawled, "But you see, something has come up."

She could feel his hand glide up along her arm, and then in a split second, Mary was held fast against his chest as the shards from the windows came crashing down, exploding upon impact as invisible entities brought their way inside.

Mary could feel his strong arm, which had snaked around her, anchored her tight below her chest, against his body and before she could scream, they descended down six floors to the entrance hallway. As Vergil touched ground and let go immediately, he looked at her as she disentangled herself and fell on the floor. Vergil held out his hand, but she refused it as she immediately got up.

"Get yourself to your father's basement; I believe that is one of the safest areas in the house. You can ask your questions to him. He has all the answers."

Mary felt her nausea rising, "And what about you?" Even as her mind reeled at the powers he displayed in front of her, she was not at all surprised for some odd reason. It felt as if everything belonged. As if the movement of what's to come was waiting for her this day. Between her father and him. Vergil allowed his light eyes to linger on her,

"Why, to rescue your mother, I believe."

Then he was gone.

XXX