#redgil

Indeed it was a simple and short comment, but it was clear how much Vergil's words flustered the other. Due to his current state, all he could do was fight to stand and bare his fangs at the original. Ouro tried squinting past the fog of war that was building in his vision. For a moment he felt like something of himself was being pulled towards his rival. He couldn't make out what exactly.

With no reply, Vergil gripped his weapon more firmly. His March towards the clone began again with an intent to kill now glistening in his steely gaze. Strangely, the more he approached, the slower his movements got. He was nearly at a halt when Ouroboros tried clearing his vision with a few rapid blinks.

Still slow, but he couldn't help but notice that pull again. It felt like it came from his chest--his heart? It was as if it had become magnetized towards Vergil. Other parts of himself began to feel the same. He could feel his hair stand as it raced over him as if he were about to be struck by lightning.

'What's going on? I can't move–I feel sick…'

Questions began racing through his mind. He could feel the fear building. Condensing… somewhere. Condensing? Hadn't he felt this before? When… in front of?...

That's when he realized he was becoming more and more unable to recall his past. That was also the same moment when he saw odd pieces of aura float off and away from himself and towards Vergil. That fear that was building was floating away in an almost relieving way.

"Hmph… Pitiful, really."

Suddenly he felt the visceral pain of a blade running him through. His mouth opened to give a pained sound but was instead interrupted by the force of his own bleached blood coming up his throat. The agony through his torso was amplified by a twist of his shoulder. Vergil had grabbed it then. Ouroboros no longer had the energy to even look up at the other anymore. He could only stare at the splatters of white he left on Vergil's coat.

It was all too clear now. His very life force was quickly being pulled into the other in feathery steady streams of violet. By now he had no recollection of his past or even the name people often referred him to. It was all becoming replaced by Vergil's current memories. Even his vision was shifting and melding with that of his mirror's.

The clone looked upon himself. His once red eyes were dulled into a dusty rose and his expression frozen in a state of complete terror. What was left of him was whisked away in the air currents.

No memories. No body. Not even a soul lingered. There was only Vergil and not a single trace of the other. The very monster he sought to destroy for he knew this devouring would happen. 

A simple smile was offered from Vergil, but that was quickly followed by the ugly sound of his face cracking. Suddenly he really did look like a monster between his shattering flesh and gaping dark voids for eyes. After all, this was how Ouroboros always imagined Vergil.

A shrill gasp brought Ouroboros back to his senses. Laying in bed and staring at the ceiling of his cell. The night wasn't silent however. Not with the pounding of his heart drumming away in his ears. He could still see the silhouette of Vergil's monstrous face against the dark backdrop of the night.

With a trembling sigh, he lifted his hands to press his palms against his own eyes. The gentle pressure gave a small amount of relief from the burned image by replacing it with small, colourful bursts of light. It was still something even if it was short lived.

"I hate this…"

His hands relaxed only to firm his nails against his face, letting them shallowly dig there. Another shuddering breath, "I can't-I can't… I can't face that-... Is that what will happen to me if I do?"

Ouroboros indeed hated who he was and how he was created and treated. It was something he could never let go as his every heartbeat was a constant reminder to that. Between this and his mixture of obsession and petrifying fear of Vergil it was no wonder why he couldn't move forward in life.