Vergil (ex_sanctus477) wrote in voicesinmyhead, @ 2007-06-11 10:11:00 |
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Andre Gide once said, "It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not."
I am something so terrible, God himself tried to destroy all of my kind with the Great Flood. Wipe the disbelieving looks away, stop relying on that King James version of the Bible, and find yourself a copy of the Book of Enoch. In this day and age, even the most uneducated of fools have massive knowledge at their fingertips, if only they weren't so lazy. It's a failing of human kind as a whole.
My father was not a Watcher, per se, in the traditional sense. Yes, he was a demon. Yes, I am sure at some point in his history, he was an angel before, and fell when the Prince of Darkness did so. And yes, I am sure I can't begin to fathom, with my nineteen years walking this earth how long he existed beforehand. Frankly, I don't give a damn. His history, while intriguing on an impersonal level, is not my concern. Sparda lived, Sparda loved, Sparda fathered hybrid children - perfect mirrors of himself and each other - and Sparda died.
The only thing that remains of Sparda is his power.
Do I define myself by my father? No. But I do define myself on my own terms, with the hybrid mesh of my genetics. I am a nephilim. I know the dictionary definition as well as anyone. However, I have the unique chance to experience it as one born into it, as though it were like the Free Masons or the Skull and Bones (of which, I'm sure, my brother and myself would have belonged, had our parents lived past our adolescent years). As a secret society where the handshake is your very genetic code.
I am not alone. I have never been alone. Even now, in my chosen solitude, there exists an ephemeral thread linking me to one other of my kind; wholly, undeniably, and eternally. Not only was I a born a nephilim, I was born, of all things, an identical twin. My brother is a slovenly mess of wibbles and emotion, verging on the fringe of lunacy from trying so hard to be what he is not. What he cannot be. Refusing to acknowledge what he truly is; going so far as to deny it altogether, as though he could ever be 'normal'. As though he could ever be human, whatever human truly means. But even I cannot deny what grows in the womb together, stays together.
Of course, I never said my brother would know about any of that. It's better, in that sense and as the quote goes, that he hate me for what I am than it is for him to wear blinders of 'brotherly love'.
Who am I? It is not who, but what. I am my father's son, wholly so. I am my brother's keeper, a cross I chose to rest upon my own shoulders willingly. I am the eldest son of the Dark Knight Sparda. I am the brother of Dante the Demon Slayer.
But most importantly, I am Vergil, he who will do what his father did before him, and cut down the Dark Emperor Mundus from his throne. After all, what threat is Hell to family, when family rules Hell?