Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

The 77th Reincarnation

[The 77th Reincarnation] 

The man woke up with a deep gasp of breath, filling lungs with sweet oxygen as a heart once more started to beat. Blood once more began to run beneath the surface, and all 5 senses slowly returned to the frame of the man lying on the uneven ground. He was unmoving; simply breathing in and out deeply as thoughts flew past his mind, behind his closed lids.

Sounds trickled into his ears, slowly registering as sounds ongoing tussles and fight. Someone was engaged in a fight near him –a fight that consisted of guns and clashing metal. That sound was strangely comforting; he had come into an era where guns existed.

Finally feeling as if his sight had recovered, the man opened his eyes slowly to meet the dim surroundings of a depressing-looking plain of nothingness. He saw something that resembled a massive tree with its trunk covered with twisted vines far in the background; its height so massive that it reached into the clouds and disappeared into the sky.

He looked left and right, but there was nothing in his surrounding that was a tell-tale of his location. Well-travelled as the man was, he could not place a name to his immediate surrounding. At least, he would not be able to do so until he spent the effort to delve into his existing memories to search for the answer.

He recognized the creatures that tainted his full view of his surroundings, however. These creatures were everywhere on this depressing-looking plain –there were layers on layers of the dead version of such creatures. There were occasional piles of the dead creatures, and many more alive creatures populating the plain with their grotesque and unnatural movements. The man looked down to find himself lying on a layer of the dead version of such creatures as well.

What he thought was uneven ground had turned out to be a bed of dead demons. Yet strangely, he felt no fear in gripping in his heart.

His rational mind observed this bodily non-reaction, and made a mental note. He was most likely not fully human.

Eager for another nugget of information, the man looked towards the thickest part of the mess, where the sounds of fight were still going on. He did not have to squint to focus on the main character in the middle of the fight –a man whose hair was a faint metallic red, and whose blood ran down the side of his face like a paint. Cuts, tears and tatters substituted for what was supposed to be a duster-like coat, and though the man was still doing all that he could to defend himself from the large wave of never-ending demons that approached him, the man could see that this stranger was on his last leg.

Instincts –the first thing that was pushing him to take action even while his mind slowly processed information –pushed the man to his feet. He picked up the weapon that laid on the floor beside him, his fingers curling naturally over the sheath. It had to be his weapon of choice, then.

His footsteps were calm as he chose his steps towards the fight scene. A surge of powers fought to rise from his being, and he –out of unfamiliarity –allowed it to run. He both saw and felt the aura rising from his skin –an intangible, yet visible blue mist that escaped his pores –even as he put one foot in front of the other. The closer he got to the group of demons and the slowing man, the more they took notice of his presence and his exuding aura. It was all too soon that the wave of demons started to turn their attention on him, clearly recognizing that he was the stronger and more dangerous individual.

"Vergil... You're okay..." The other man had fallen to his knees by now; finally given a respite now that the demons were focusing their attention on him. "I'm just going to take a rest... don't wake me up."

With those words spoken, the man watched as the other man closed his eyes and fell flat to the floor, the big sword that had been clutched in his hand loosened.