There was blackness. Nothing but darkness surrounding him. He could not see nor could he hear, it was as if he was plunged into an eternal void of nothingness where his screams and pleading could never be heard no matter the effort.

The last thing he could remember was dying. It was an odd and yet frightening feeling. Dying was the only thing he could remember? No, there had to be something else. Something other then dying. But the issue was that his mind was not exactly in a state of remembering or thinking for that matter.

It feels as though his mind was in a state of peace, or limbo as others put it. Feeling as though that he didn't want to think. And that he would push aside any memory that was beginning to enter his brain and flood him with images and visions. However, it proved to be futile for he began to feel movement. And it was not movement from an outside force either.

It was his. His own movement. He could not explain exactly, but he felt it nonetheless. It gave him a sense of deep relief but also pain for some reason. Seething pain, as if his very bones were being burned and his muscles were sore. It felt as if he had not moved in many an age.

But that was not all. More movement was felt, and more pain alongside it.

He soon felt his limbs twitching slightly. At least he hoped that it was he who was controlling his limbs. He couldn't exactly place it, but he was extremely relieved that it was he for once that was controlling his own body. His limbs, from fingers, to toes, feet, and so forth. His entire body. He could cry, but battled it. But the relief was overwhelming. But then another feeling flooded him, and flooded being the keyword.

He couldn't breathe. And every time he tried, he could feel something forcibly enter his throat and nostrils, like liquid, and within his lungs. It was all too much for him and he began to tremble and violently thrash about. However, his thrashing created no sound, but only bubbles. And he soon discovered that he was in water. But the water was unlike the normal blue or grayish blue. It was red. A rather crimson red.

Like blood.

His eyes snapped open. And his eyes were a rather steel blue color, but were bloodshot. They shifted around frantically and in panic. Movement in his eyes as well? He couldn't bare it any longer and exerted every ounce of strength he had in his body and swiftly emerged from the surface of the red pool. And while the water was red, it was not blood.

He sat up causing a large splash as he wailed at the top of his lungs, gasping and shouting. Before he then forcibly coughed out the water that he inadvertently breathed in within the pool. He moved his arms around frantically attempting to find any sort of ledge. The movement he exerted was painful but he could care less.

Somehow he felt that this pain was unlike the one he experienced before.

He kicked his legs in the red water. His memories consisting of his actions were swiftly returning. He recalled on how to swim as he moved towards the edge of whatever pool he erupted from. He grasped the edge tightly, breathing and panting heavily. Trying to suck in the air and coughing profusely. His eyes were shut tight as they ached. His white hair flowed down, covering his eyes as they dripped water on the floor.

He remained gripping the edge of the pool for many long moments as his breathing and panting began to soften and calm.

The sore pain of even moving remained to ravage his muscles and body, but he shrugged it off. Or tried at least. He felt like a newborn infant. But one that could partially see at least. He felt as though he was born into a world. A world that he was not quite aware of. He didn't know how it worked.

But this was a rather violent birth.

He tried to open his eyes, and after a moment he succeeded. Blinking several times, as his vision was blurry. He felt as though he could not see for a long time. Time? That's right. He didn't know how long it's been. But he dreaded to know. He felt as though that he's been gone for weeks, months, or even years possibly. As his vision soon began to repair itself he glanced at the ledge he was gripping tightly. In fact it was so tight, that cracks were visible.

The ledge was made of a glimmering stone. Or carving. It appeared to be marble. But for some reason, he felt as though that this carving was unlike the one's he had encountered before.

He no longer wished to question it. But he knew that if he did at this state, he would likely go mad and primal.

He soon glanced up very slowly, his head trembling slightly, feeling as though that it's being weighed down by gravity or that it's being filled by something. Due to his white hair being drenched, water constantly poured down his face. The expression of his face was one of confusion, panic, but something else. It looked as if it was once of strong determination.

It was a combination of all three. Confusion, panic, and...strength. Strength returned to him. The same one that he felt that he was born with. And the one that would never leave his body. And the one that would aid him in facing all odds. He soon exerted further effort in lifting himself up, attempting to exit this pool. Groaning, with his teeth grit, and his eyes shut tightly, he at least succeeded in removing himself from the red water as he collapsed on the ground with a thud and pained grunt.

As he was out of the pool, another experience washed over him. This was all simply too much to absorb. So much so, it is beginning to make him fall into unconsciousness. He was fighting it as his eye lids were slowly opening and closing, and his eyes nearly rolled back as if he was intoxicated by a strong drug.

He felt a cool breeze impact against his body, his vision growing blurry once more, and soon realized that he was not wearing any clothing. Although he could understand why.

He soon felt steady and calm thumping. They were more then that. They sounded like steps. And soon became apparent that they were foot steps. He couldn't pin point where they were exactly. He felt really weak. Defenseless. And vulnerable. He didn't know what was here. Was it a monster? A...demon? He didn't know. But whatever it was. It sounded like it was close.

And it was beginning to get closer. It was echoing. As if he was surrounded.

As he turned his head, and despite his vision being blurry, he could vaguely witness a figure approaching. And while it was not the entirety of the figure, he could see its what appear to be a swaying fabric. Possibly the end of some kind of cloak. This was it. Darkness surrounded him once more, and it was engulfing his vision as the figure stopped before him.

He wanted to stand up. To confront the figure. To fight it. Fight for his life. And escape. But these thoughts were imagination. And he was hoping that they would be reality soon.

And before his thoughts and vision were completely engulfed, he heard a voice. A gentle and calm voice.

"Hello Vergil. Welcome back."

Don't worry folks. I plan to make this story a big one. It acts like my imagination on how the next Devil May Cry game should be. I don't own the characters of Devil May Cry, the future characters I plan to introduce are created by me. Read and Review.