Hello everyone. I was bored and VERY VERY VERY angry which explains the utter CRAPNESS of this fic. Meh. But anyway, whatever. If you enjoy it, you get a bonus prize of a fic written by me. (shrugs)
Tragedy
The rain continued to fall, just the way he always knew it would when it came to this.
He just never thought that it would happen so soon, after so little time.
He hadn't done enough, and he hadn't seen enough.
He hadn't experienced enough…
But Fate was a cruel woman, as was Luck and they both hadn't taken any of this into account.
No, it was time for him to go, and they had decreed it to be so, and he had no way of fighting physically against their wishes, even if his mind railed and screamed against it, begging an invisible something for more time.
A lone tear made its slow, tortuous way down his cheek, coming to mingle with the blood that pooled around him on the ground of the Underworld. Somewhere, through the midst of all that pain, he was somehow able to smile crookedly, as blood spewed out of his mouth in a thick crimson river.
What was it that had his beloved once said?
That devils never cry…
It had become a mantra for them all, a mantra for the small, perfect family.
When his sons fell, he would pick them up, or his beloved would, and they would brush the dirt off their delicate skin and would smile.
"Devils never cry…so don't cry…be a brave boy…because devils never cry…"
He groaned softly, more blood gushing out of his mouth, the smell of it making him dizzy, almost faint.
Had it really come to this so soon?
He could barely believe it.
Another wave of pain raped his mind and body, made him scream out with agony. And each time the cries escaped his mouth, he loathed himself. He loathed the fact that he had been so weak, he hated the fact that he had been so foolish and he abhorred the idea of all that lost time, time, precious time, that he could have spent with his family instead of out playing cat and mouse with stray demons that walked the mortal realm.
He was faintly aware that his mouth was hanging open, was trying to move, to try and form words that refused to sound. The agony that crashed through his body over and over drowned out everything else and blinded his vision, pulling him further into the unconsciousness that heralds death.
He swallowed hard, but as soon as he did so he regretted it. He coughed weakly, spitting up blood, gagging on his own body fluids. His head fell onto the ground, and before he was even fully aware of what was happening, his entire body had sagged.
He couldn't move.
Everything felt too heavy.
He screwed his eyes shut, feeling the pain dimming, only to be replaced by a terrible feeling of light-headedness.
He wanted Eva. He wanted to see his children's faces one last time.
He wanted to tell them how much he loved them, that this had been done because of them, that his death was a symbol for the love and the pride he poured upon them.
After all, his death meant that the demonic world had been sealed. His death meant their safety.
And so it was that the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, passed away.
