A/N: First update of 2018. Hope everyone has been having a great year so far. This story was requested by @randywesker, who wanted a Vergil-Oneshot mashup with Beauty and The Beast.

[Beauty And The Demon]

"Sign here, Miss Alvarez."

She did as she was told, and then her life was officially sold to a person whose face she had never seen before. Not that her life was going to last much longer; she had just signed herself to die.

17 year old Skye Alvarez had been just your average neighbourhood girl. She did not have many close friends, did not stand out too much in class, and did not do anything very particular to be specially noted in school. She attended school as per normal, did her homework as per normal, and struggled and studied hard for exams as per normal. Normalcy was part of her, and even though a secret part of her had wanted her life to be a little bit more exciting –maybe meeting a lover, or getting caught in some tiny adventure –this was not what she had hoped for.

Her life wasn't going to be exciting.

It was going to end.

All because of her father.

Ok, so maybe Skye was not the most average of girls in a normal neighbourhood, though she was not far off. The only thing that distinguished her from the rest was that her father was an alcoholic unemployed. Her mother was the sole breadwinner of the household, and often too busy to take care of her and her little brother. Her father was usually asleep when they were in school, and out drinking when they finished school. Skye did not see much of her father at all, and was secretly glad that she didn't have to, because she was rather sure that he would be abusive to his family members they were at home if he came home drunk.

Understandably, the relationship between Skye and her father was strained, but she had always done her best to be normal and stay out of trouble while making sure her little brother did the same as well. She didn't want to attract the irritated attention of her almost-permanently-drunk father, after all.

Thus, she had been cautiously wary when her father came back home one day, looking surprisingly sober and actually sporting a new haircut and shave that made him look actually decent. Her brother had been out with friends while she watched the house when her father had come back with a smile that was for once fatherly. Her scared caution had only heightened when he had talked to her in his most gentle tone –one that he hadn't used on her ever since he got fired from his job near 10 years ago –and told her to pack some clothes for an overnight stay.

Skye had tried to ask what her father was up to, but he had only said that he had struck lottery, and that he wanted to bring the family out for a vacation. When Skye asked about her mother and brother, her father simply replied that the both of them had already been contacted and were on their way back, and would meet Skye and her father at the airport. The destination of their vacation was supposed to be a surprise, and Skye was cautiously happy that her father had finally taken a turn for the better when she packed.

Innocently, she had gotten onto the cab after her father, who apparently had given the cab driver the address beforehand.

Skye should have realised that she didn't see her father packing his belongings, or put his luggage into the trunk beside hers.

Because Skye had never gone overseas since her father had been unemployed, she was not very familiar about the route to the airport and had trusted the cab driver to bring them there. 2 hours into the ride, however, her suspicions were once more aroused when they did not seem to near any airports and instead, closer to the countryside. In fact, the sound of airplanes seemed farther and farther away as they rode.

Her fears solidified when the cab driver finally turned into an estate that was more than just countryside trees and fields. It was a very large estate with polished gates and a heavy foreboding sense of opulence that they drove into. Through the front, Skye saw a large mansion looming in front of them. It looked almost like a palatial residence, but a deep pit in Skye's stomach had grown, because she somehow knew that she wasn't coming here for a vacation anymore.

"Dad," She remembered saying, "Where is this?"

"Your new home." Her father had replied, his face hard as stone. The gentle smile and tone had disappeared entirely, and his eyes were pinned forwards. There was an inch of fear in his eyes, but Skye saw a measure of relief. Relief; that he was going to leave his daughter here and abandon her.

"What do you mean?"

"This is your new home. Service your new master well, Skye, and don't make trouble. You don't want your new master to go after us, do you? Think about your poor mother and brother."

The hard, cold words were what Skye thought she would only hear in TV dramas, but that was simply not the truth.

"W-What did you do?" She could only demand in reply. There was no chance in praying that her father might be joking –Skye had given up hope of her father waking up from his decadent lifestyle near 5 years ago.

"I stole enough to give your mother and brother a good life. The man who owns this place caught me, and asked me for compensation."

"I am your compensation?" Skye had asked in horror. "You are selling me?"

"I am exchanging you for a better life for your mother and brother." Her father had answered in a self-righteous tone that could possibly have been justified if he wasn't talking about selling her. "Look at this mansion. You will be living in such a posh estate. You should be thanking me for giving you a chance to experience such opulence for once in your life. All you have to do is serve your master well. Do whatever he wants you to do, and don't make a noise if he touches you. He owns you now."

"How can I thank you for selling me away? Are you even a proper father? Mom will call the cops once she knows!" Skye had demanded with her voice raised –because the desperation and fear were rising inside her. The fear of being sold as a slave was a bitter taste on her tongue. She could hardly believe what her reality was turning into –she never imagined that slavery would be in her future.

"She won't. I'll help you write a letter saying that you've had enough of life and that you decided to run away." Her father had answered with a grim smile –as if he was struggling to refrain from grinning outright at her. He had all the reasons to; Skye had literally become his lottery ticket.

"You can't do this to me, Dad." Skye's tears had turned on by then, clinging onto the man that she had thought was family for the past 17 years of her life. "I am your daughter..."

"It is precisely because you are my daughter that I am doing this. I can't go around picking a girl off the street as compensation, can I? I will get a lawsuit on my hands." The rational answer from her heartless father only confirmed to her right there and then how hopeless it was for her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Skye gave up. She knew that even if she managed to beg her father to somehow bring her back home, he wouldn't stop trying to sell her to other people since he was so close to the treasure this time.

Still, Skye had fought with desperation to stay on the cab when it finally stopped in front of a set of posh stairs that led to a opulent double-door entrance. She had begged, cried and clawed, but nothing had worked. Her father –or rather, the man she thought was her father –had kicked her roughly, threw her belongings on the floor beside her, jumped back into the cab and sped off without a second word or look backwards.

From then, it had only been a matter of time before someone came out to collect her distraught self. In all honesty, the man who came out to collect her was not a bad man –at least on first impressions. He had introduced himself as Butler Cross, and had led her inside to a simple study with no one inside. She had been sat at the table, where a contract had been laid out in front of her, and a pen ready to sign.

The conditions of her father's selling her became crystal clear when she read the contract. She was not sent here as a slave.

She was sent here as a sacrifice.

The words 'pledge my life' jumped out at her.

But the worst thing was that the number of zeros in the amount paid to her father in compensation also popped out at her. Regardless of how disgusted she felt at being sold, a sour relief had also settled in her core. The money was truly enough to give her poor mother and brother a comfortable life.

While Skye waited for the ink on the contract to dry, she took the time to examine the other signature already penned at the bottom of the paper. It was a very professional signature, and she could clearly make out the initials V and S.

Scrolling through her internal memory, Skye could not place the initials to any man within her town that she knew to be this rich.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Alvarez." Butler Cross said politely to her. "Please follow me. You may leave your belongings here. I will send some people to collect it and bring it to your room."

Skye saw no reason to resist the butler's instructions and obeyed silently, feeling completely emotionally exhausted. What could be a worse feeling than being betrayed by a man who one had assumed was a father for the past 17 years? Skye didn't even feel the fear anymore now that she knew very well that she was about to die. Even if she didn't, Skye was sure that her future would not be anything to look forward to since she would spend it all within the walls of this mansion, never to see the light of day outside again.

"Mr V will receive you personally, and it will be wise of you to remain polite. He does not appreciate loud noises and rude questions." Butler Cross said as they walked the hallways. Skye did not reply –mostly because she didn't know how to reply. She had a million questions about this Mr V who had apparently bought her, but at the same time, she felt no need to know. The man was going to be her murderer, after all. She wasn't interested in the background of her murderer.

They stopped outside another double-door.

"It will be pitch black inside. Mr V hates light. When you go in, count 7 steps in front. Turn right and count 3 steps. There will be a chair there. Mr V will speak with you once you are seated."

Again with the mystery. Skye would have been dying of curiosity by now if she was still a normal schoolgirl meeting a stranger for the first time. But she was no longer a normal schoolgirl, and thus didn't question a single thing as she obeyed.

Butler Cross had not been kidding. It was really pitch black.

Well, better for Skye anyway. She wouldn't be able to see what was coming. She might not even realise if she was dying until too late if she couldn't see a single thing. Counting 7 steps forwards and 3 steps rightwards, Skye found her seat to be rather comfortable and velvety as she waited for something to happen.

"Very good." The voice came out from the darkness, but she couldn't pinpoint where it came from. "Your father has done well giving me what I want."

Skye didn't answer, because she wasn't sure how to.

"Do you not fear what is about to happen?" Skye profiled the voice to belong to someone in his early 30s, though she could easily be wrong. What struck her, however, was how diplomatic and regal the man sounded. He made a threatening question like his sound like an important announcement.

"Yes, but there's nothing I can do. My father sold me to you, so do your worst."

"Do my worst? Why will I do my worst on my sacrifice? I need you in one piece, Miss Alvarez."

"How heartening." Skye was not sarcastic on purpose –her defence mechanism against strangers insulting her was being sarcastic. "I don't suppose you need me fattened up like a livestock?"

"Actually, that is what I need." The answer was short and informative. There was a short pause, then, "I thought it would be good for you to understand the role of what you are about to be sacrificed for."

"I thought livestock just lived to make animal sounds, and get killed and eaten? I don't think human flesh is very delicious, and I heard it tastes like tougher than pig meat." As Skye got increasingly defensive, her words became increasingly rebellious, which was not a surprise giving her current situation. Her fight-or-flight instincts was running amok.

"Unfortunately, I don't see you as a livestock. Harvesting livestock and processing meat takes effort. It will not take much effort to kill you."

"How heart-warming."

"Since you don't seem particularly inclined to want to know what you have just signed yourself to, then you and I are done today, Miss Alvarez." The voice sounded, and this time it sounded strangely far away. "Cross will bring you to your room. We will see each other when you are ready to be killed."

The protest died on her lips when something cold blew past her, and she shivered with a chill that travelled all over her body. The hairs on her skin stood up, and Skye could almost swear that she could feel someone standing in front of her. But she could see nothing, and when she waved her hand in front of her, she felt no one.

There was a click, and the sound of a door closing.

A second later, another click, and the door that she had just come from opened. Squinting against the sudden light that had flooded the room from the tiny shaft between the door and frame, making out a dark silhouette standing against the light, Skye put her hand up to shield her eyes from the glare.

"Miss Alvarez," Butler Cross called. "I will bring you to your room."

And that was it.

The end of the first day that Skye Alvarez was sold to die.

________________________________________________________________________________

Was she really going to die?

Skye had assumed it was so when she signed the contact, but somehow, the end of life was not happening to her. But if she wasn't dying, then what the heck was she here in this mansion for? It had already been a month, and Skye's caution was dwindling by the day. It was not surprising that her curiosity was climbing by the day.

The questions that should have accompanied her since Day 1 began to build up over the days, until she was almost bursting at the seams with them. Where was this mansion? What is the real name of the owner of the mansion? Why was Mr V so mysterious? Why didn't he ever appear around the house? Which room was his bedroom? What did he do for a living? What did he look like? Why did he hire people to keep the house clean when he never stepped into any room at all? Why were there no guests or visitors at all?

Most importantly, Skye's main question still held: Why was she still here and alive?

None of the servants could answer those questions, and neither could Butler Cross. Skye had initially assumed that Butler Cross did not want to give the answer, but as the days passed, she became more and more aware of the fact that Butler Cross really did not know. He obeyed instructions given to him from the darkness, followed his routines religiously, fulfilled what he was hired for, and received a good pay check in return. The man did not question where his money came from, because he knew he would not keep his pay check for long if he did. Ignorance was his bliss.

The same could not be said for Skye, who had come here to die, but left with nothing to do except to die. She wasn't even sure what her position within the mansion was. She had been bought into the mansion, but was still treated like an esteemed guest by the servants. Butler Cross always addressed her politely and spoke to her like she was a VIP when she clearly wasn't.

Bored to death with nothing to do, and wanting to do her best to avoid Butler Cross who had a habit of asking her to go back to her room and wait (for nothing) every time he met her, Skye wandered along the corridor that the butler had initially told her to avoid. It was the same corridor that she had been taken down when they were approaching the dark room, where she had had her first and only conversation with Mr V.

Understandably, that room was supposed to be strictly off-limits to her, but Skye was already a prisoner on death row. She had no fear for breaking rules since she was already set to die, and thus had infiltrated the room a few times. The strange thing was that no matter how hard she searched within the room, she could never find a power switch. Even when she left the room door wide open, the light from the corridor only showed a very small portion of the room –an armchair, a low table with nothing on it, and carpeted floor. Nothing else could be seen, and try as she might, Skye could not get a sense of how big the room was.

It was the only place that Skye had yet to tire herself of within the mansion. Fuelled by the fact that this was also the only place she had met the owner of the mansion, she had come back a few times in hopes of catching him again. She was rather sure that there was another door somewhere within the room –because she was sure to have heard a click right after the voice had announced his intention to depart.

This was her goal now, as she slipped back into the dark room, closing the door behind her because she didn't want to leave a trail. Besides, leaving the door open did not help her with visibility at all.

Deciding to be a lot more adventurous than she had been the past times, Skye bravely let her hands lift from the walls that she had always used as a guide to bring her around the perimeter of the room. This time, she was going to try exploring the middle of the room in full darkness. Taking one step at a time, the heavy silence of the room made Skye's breathing loud in her own ears. Her senses focused on the touch and hearing since sight was now gone, and a cold chill of exhilarating excitement and caution made her shiver a little.

What if she got lost inside the room? Butler Cross had told her that he himself could not see in the dark room. The man had always taken the seat, listened to instructions, and left without a sense of adventure. She couldn't blame him (since he was collecting a good pay check from Mr V), but this also meant that if she got lost, or somehow lost consciousness within this room, there might not be anyone who would realise.

Well, maybe except for Mr V, who somehow seemed to have a very uncanny ability of navigating himself through complete darkness.

A loud thunk, accompanied by stinging pain on her forehead made Skye stumble backwards a few steps, rubbing her forehead with a grumble as she felt in front of her with a free hand. The touch was cold, and the previous sound made from the impact of her forehead to the material had been metallic. She wasn't surprised to feel a metal bar of sorts in front of her, but what kept her curious was the form that her fingers were telling her.

Slowly, Skye slid her fingers up and down, left and right. She bent down a little, then straightened and tip toed to feel everything, confirming her suspicions. Then, excited that she had found something, she took a step, still feeling her way with her hands before every step that she took. It was a slow process, and she counted ten steps before her fingers brushed a different material surface.

She knocked a few times, and was glad to hear a wooden hollow thunk in reply. She pushed, but the door did not budge. Careful not to be disheartened, Skye felt all around, until her fingers wrapped around something cold again. Investigating with her fingers and imagining, she closed her fingers around the cold metal and turned.

The click was familiar, and soft, ember light suddenly appeared in the tiny seam.

Smiling silently to herself and careful not to shout her joy, Skye climbed the rest of the steps on the ladder, climbing through the trapdoor on what she assumed had to be the ceiling of the dark room.

"Oh wow...... Ahhh!" Skye's exclamation of awe turned into one of shock when the tip of something sharp appeared between her eyes out of nowhere.

"Did Cross never tell you that this place is out of bounds, Miss Alvarez?" The voice was familiar –one that Skye remembered very clearly, because she had had multiple nightmares with that voice.

Skye would have liked to reply the man, but her mouth was too busy hanging open, gaping at the thing in front of her that was supposed to be a man. It was strange; it had the voice of a man, and the silhouette of a man.

Well, at least a man in a heavy set of armour.

"Did you lose your tongue in the past month, Miss Alvarez?" The voice asked again, and Skye looked around just to make sure that there was no second person in the room that was turning out to be a bedroom of sorts. A bed sat in the far corner with tousled sheets. A bookshelf stood near the bed, and a comfortable chair beside it. There was even a small table of light refreshments close to the desk where papers sat neatly.

But no; there was no other person. The voice came from this person-thing in front of her.

"M-Mr V?"

"I see your tongue is still in there. Good for you, because it at least you seem to have retained your tongue when you lost your brains."

"E-Excuse me?" Skye asked, not really comprehending. When she climbed through the trapdoor, a cosy room with a strange thing with the voice of Mr V was not what she expected. Maybe an attic full of treasures, yes, but not a bedroom, and definitely not a sword pointed between her eyes.

"A pity. If I were to sacrifice someone, I prefer someone with a brain. It seems like I will just have to make do with you and hope that my mother's amulet is not picky."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr V." Skye's guts came back to her –though a little bit late. A sense of self-righteous anger pushed away the fear and shock, and she stepped calmly further away from the sword tip, standing safely in the room before letting the trap door slam close beneath her. The soft candlelight threw a good view of the armour that the man was clad in, but Skye couldn't understand why the man was crazy enough to want to wear armour in a secret room. "I was wondering when you would finally kill me. I thought you'd forgotten about me, so I thought I would give you a reminder that I'm still alive."

"No worries, Miss Alvarez, you are not forgotten. It is just that things are not yet ready for you. I am still preparing the details for your sacrifice."

"Then would you get on with it already?" Skye didn't know why, but she felt super brave as she carelessly pushed the sword pointed at her away. Perhaps this false bravery was coming from the adrenaline of having a sword pointed threateningly at her. "I'm fine without a sacrificial altar. I don't mind dying on the cold hard floor."

"There was no intention for a sacrificial altar for you." The voice answered, as the man sheathed his sword. Skye almost couldn't believe how smooth and silent the man made his action despite his armour. "It would be a waste of investment. And dying on the floor will take terrible effort to clean up."

"Glad to hear that." Skye answered, then deliberately took her time to look around again slowly. "Will you explain to me what is up with your getup?"

"No."

"Okay. So what do you intend to do now that I've infiltrated your secret bedroom?"

"Keep you here until all the preparations are done." The man answered. "Since you do not seem to appreciate sleeping in a comfortable bed back in your room, you may sleep on the floor beside me."

"Huh," Skye scoffed. "As if I will willingly do whatever you want me to. You may have bought me, Mr V, but it'll take more than threats to keep me here."

"Don't worry, my words meant more than light-hearted threats." The man answered, and turned away. Claw-armoured hand picked up a book skilfully from the table without scratching it, and he found his seat easily on the chair in a pose that meant that he was rather used to doing things with his armour. Weirdo. "You may try to open the door."

Skye tried.

"I forgot to tell you, Miss Alvarez, to not measure me by your human standards, because I am not fully one. I locked the door, so you're not going out again until I say so."

"What?"

"I enjoy some silence when I read my books, Miss Alvarez. I am sure you don't appreciate me using my abilities to keep you quiet, so consider what is wise for you with whatever you have in your head to replace that missing brain. I will inform Cross to bring your basic necessities here, so I suggest you make yourself at home. These 4 walls will be the last walls you see for long in your life."

Skye really really wanted to make a fuss and piss the guy off. Her frustration, irritation and helplessness boiled inside her, burning strong and bright. But suddenly, a fourth emotion came into her and flooded everything else.

She had a deep sense that it was caused by the man's so-called abilities, but the lethargy was almost too much to take now. Skye slowly lowered herself to the cold, hard floor, curled up as much as she could on her side, and closed her eyes.

________________________________________________________________________________

Skye didn't want to be arrogant, but she had the man figured out.

"Vergil," she said, glad that she now knew his real name because she had managed to talk it out of him, "you haven't told me what you are still preparing for."

"I have no obligation to tell you that." Vergil answered without looking up. Initially, Skye had wondered how the man could see through his armour, and how she would know if his gaze was on her. Over time, however, she had realised that she could literally feel his gaze on her whenever he glanced her way.

As for how he could see through his armour... the man had told her that he was actually one with the armour. Vergil Sparda turned out to be a half-demon who had experienced a whole lot of adventure during his younger years. The young Vergil Sparda had been a complete douchebag (and Skye had told the man of her opinion honestly, and earned a silent treatment in reply for a few hours after that), and he had gone around killing everything in his sight because he had thirsted for power. Young Vergil had basically been on the path to being a supervillain until his twin brother came along and (helpfully) killed him.

Skye had been rather horrified that she was spending her days with a dead man, but dead man wasn't exactly what she would describe Vergil for now, because he explained that he had awoken afterwards in an unfamiliar place after his 'death', in full devil-trigger. His mother's amulet –a beautiful sapphire-coloured gem sitting in silver chain –had been glowing when he woke up, and Vergil had suspected from then that it was his mother's amulet that had saved him from death, but cursed him into a permanent devil-trigger. That explained why the man was in his armour 24/7; he couldn't take it off, because it was literally a part of him until he somehow found a way to turn off the devil-trigger that apparently could be turned off and on like a switch.

Skye had learnt, too, after bugging the man for a few days afterwards that Vergil was trying to turn off the devil-trigger by making a blood sacrifice to the amulet in hopes of triggering the glow again. There was no asking who the blood sacrifice was, but at least Skye knew what she was dying for. She was no more empowered to change her situation of being destined as a sacrifice, but at least Skye was a little less disgruntled about being sacrificed for something she didn't understand. She thought of it like plastic surgery; except that her life instead of money would be offered in exchange for Vergil to get his normal face and body back.

"That's right; you have no obligation to." Skye admitted with an unfaltering smile. Ever she learnt how to press the correct buttons, Vergil was basically an open book. He desperately tried to keep things and secrets from her, but Skye knew where to press now to get the honest answers out of him. She could tell that he was surprised from his tone that she accepted the ugly parts of his past without judging his current self. What Skye herself was surprised at, instead, was how soft the man was actually on the inside beneath all that bark and bite.

"There's no obligation, but doesn't powerful Mr Vergil want to enlighten stupid little Skye about why he's delaying her death? Little Skye is so stupid; she wants to know why she can't die earlier than what Great Mr Vergil promised her!" Skye made herself sound as infuriating as she possibly could, which was very. The trick, as it turned out, was not to please or butter up the man. No, the trick to make Vergil spill the beans was to annoy and irritate the crap out of him.

The man hated to be disturbed, and relied on death threats to make people leave him alone. But once it was clear that Skye was no afraid of dying at his hands, he had been left with nothing he could do against her. She had simply just continued to annoy him until he finally gave in to all her questionings in hopes of shutting her up.

Skye simply just loved to push her limits further and further.

There was a long pause, where Skye could almost hear the gears in the man's mind turning, trying to think of a way to threaten Skye and make her back down from her pushing.

"The other side of my mother's amulet. The one my brother has. I need both gems for it to work."

"Where is it?" Skye grinned at how the man was giving in without a fight as if he knew that he couldn't win.

"By my best guess? My grave."

"Your what?"

"I told you once before, Miss Alvarez. I am a dead man. My brother erected a grave for me."

"You mean to say you never went back to visit your brother after you woke up?"

"Murderer."

"What?" Skye asked again, dumbfounded by the calm one-worded reply.

"Murderer. Yes, I never went back to visit my murderer after I woke up from death. What am I supposed to say? 'I know you killed me, but I am back. You may want to request a refund for the grave you bought for me'?" Vergil finally looked up from his book. "Let us not forget for even a second that he will only think that I am still under the control of the Demon King while I am still in this armour."

"Are you?"

Skye had clearly expected a sharp 'no' in reply to her question, in the same way he always gave very sharp replies to her stupid and bland questions that was aimed at making her feel stupid. Skye had been made to feel stupid many times before in their previous conversations, but she had over time developed an immunity to feeling stupid. Besides, there was really nothing to be embarrassed about, because the only person who could witness her apparent stupidity was also the guy who was going to be her murderer in the time to come.

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?" Skye demanded with a frown. "Look here, buddy, I'm not about to be killed by you while you are still being controlled by the Demon King or Queen or whatever. If I'm going to die, you better be you, Vergil Sparda, or I'm going to come back and haunt your ass out."

"That's not what I mean. I still have control of my actions." The answer was quick and dismissive, and Skye was silently relieved that the man seemed to have neglected to pay attention on the 'haunting his ass' part. Skye's mouth tended to shoot off at times, and she was pretty sure that even if she wanted to haunt someone, her father was on the top of the list.

Then again, Vergil probably had a nice ass to haunt. Even with armour stuck to him, she could see that he had a nice shape.

"What I meant is that... I am feeling emotions that I would very much rather be rid without. These emotions did not appear before my death, which makes me think things that I have never considered before. If it were the me before my death, I would undoubtedly be disgusted with myself, but something must have changed when I died."

"Whoa, whoa, back up a little bit there." Skye raised both hands in a gesture for the man to stop his flow of words. "You mean that Demon King or Queen or whatever made you feel things that you would otherwise feel disgusted at yourself about if you were your old self? This is getting a little bit too deep for me. What exactly are you feeling that you will be disgusted about?"

It was pretty understandable for a man to hesitate telling someone else about an emotion that he himself was disgusted for having, but the man had nowhere to run. If Vergil had trapped her here in this room above the Dark Room, he had also effectively trapped himself with her. Because of his armour and demonic nature, he could not go out in the daylight to let anyone else see him –lest they cause more trouble.

"Reluctance." The man gave up. "And fear."

"Fear? Isn't that natural for everyone?" Skye asked.

"For humans, yes. But fear was not something I felt before I died. I never feared anything, because there was nothing for me to fear."

"Okay then..." Skye compromised, because she was rather sure the man would go on boasting about how he wasn't a proper human, and that she shouldn't measure him by her human standards, "what exactly are you fearing? We aren't in a terribly horrible situation for you to fear anything. Unless you're telling me you're actually afraid of the dark?"

"I can see in the dark, in case you have no noticed, Miss Alvarez." The very condescending tone came back –something else that Skye was also used to. Being talked down to was nothing to her, because Vergil Sparda held a tone that clearly said he talked down to everyone else. She wasn't that special. "And no matter how hard you beg and irritate me, I will never tell you my fears. It is disgraceful enough to me that you know that I have fears. The only consolation in all of this useless talking is that you are soon set to die, and my secrets shall die with you."

"You say soon," Skye gave a heavy sigh, flopping onto the man's bed without invitation, rolling herself in the man's sheets. She didn't want to admit it, but even with demonic armour, the man always left his sheets smelling nice. "But we're back to square one; I won't be dying soon unless you have your own grave dug up. For someone who has an awful lot of money and power, aren't you being a little bit to lacklustre in doing this?"

"Just be glad that you are still alive up till this point, Miss Alvarez." The man answered in a tone that was clearly exasperated. "Now, do keep your silence."

"Or you'll what? Use your powers to make me sleep again?" Skye challenged. The man had done exactly just that to keep her silent for long periods of time, which had pissed her off terribly since it had been a very convenient way for him to get rid of her without her knowing.

"Yes, and the more you resist, I will put you in a box and send you straight to my brother. Dante and I used to be identical twins, but now that I am in my trigger, you will find no differences between me and him in looks and character. There, you will experience a very special sort of Hell –one that I am very sure your father assumed that you would be put through when he sold you to me."

"Huh? You mean your twin brother is an evil maniac as well?"

"No, I am." Vergil didn't look up, but an armoured hand gestured in Skye's direction, and made a dismissive gesture. Instantly, she could feel her body ten times heavier, her eyelids a hundred times. If she was not already on the bed, Skye was sure she would have fallen to the floor.

As it were, her body sank into the comfortable sheets of Vergil Sparda's, and her eyes closed, drifting into a deep sleep. The beginnings of her angry curse at a certain half-demons died on Skye's lips.

________________________________________________________________________________

"Ugh. You could have picked a better place for me to die." Skye complained as she picked her way through the wet muddied floor. She knew it was rude to be complaining and making so much noise in the dead of night in the middle of a graveyard, but why should she care? She was going to die soon anyway. Even if the spirits of these poor dead people wanted to haunt her, they would have to wait until she turned translucent like them.

"Tell that to my brother. He was the one who bought my grave." The man answered, making a beeline for his own grave without any distractions. His armour was making him easy to walk –since he didn't have to worry about his clothes getting dirty or anything.

"But he looks like a cheapskate." Skye commented. "This graveyard doesn't look very well maintained. He probably didn't pay for housekeeping fees."

"He doesn't pay for any fees." Vergil answered. "Come quick. Less talk, more walk."

"I'm not even walking. I'm practically tiptoeing." Skye answered, carefully flashing the torchlight in front of her to get a sense of where the mud was not the stickiest and thickest. It was hard to find a good spot to land her shoes in –every spot looked like it was ready to drag her to the ground.

"Hurry."

"In case you haven't noticed," Skye paused to take a careful step, shifting her weight only when she was confident that the mud wouldn't make her slip. "I don't have night vision like you, and I don't have a washable armour like you. I actually want to die spotless, without mud stains on my clothes."

"When you die, you will be falling to the ground. I wager half of you is going to be mud stained." The answer came, and Skye stopped, staring at the waiting man. She had not thought about how her body would be dirtied after she died.

"I'm going back!" She declared, turning back hastily. "Let's come back some other day when the ground is dryer!"

In all honestly, Skye wasn't sure if she was actually afraid of dying or not.

She had been faced with the idea that death was soon for the past few months, and she had done exceptionally well bracing for the end –enjoying her life away by eating good food brought by Butler Cross, and then annoying Vergil when she was bored. She slept a lot more since Vergil always made her sleep to shut her up, but sometimes, she read the books he did as well, learning many things about demons, spells and whatnot. Skye wasn't naturally interested in demonology, but there was really nothing else to do except learn about those things, so she had picked up the interested over time.

Life had been slow and easy for her –no worries at all –and in all honesty, it was actually the most relaxation she had enjoyed in her life. Death had always been looming in her head, and that had made Skye very careless and reckless in her words and thoughts, but she had enjoyed the freedom terribly. And even though Vergil was set to be her murderer, she had enjoyed his company very much –even if he only entertained her by his serious comments and constant threats on her life.

She enjoyed it so much that she almost felt reluctant to leave the mansion when Vergil declared to her that tonight was her death night. Skye couldn't back out of the deal, but she could sure complain a hell lot and try to find excuses to delay the inevitable. A part of her felt bad that delaying her death also meant that she was delaying Vergil's regaining of his original body, but hey, who had the time to care about others when one's own life was on the line? Selfishness was a human's inherent trait, after all. Skye wasn't altruistic enough to selflessly give up her life for the man who, in all honesty, had never led a proper righteous life before.

"You are not going anywhere except the Otherworld today." The levelled tone of a man who knew exactly what he was doing answered, and before Skye could take any more steps away, than she had already done, she felt something cold close over her wrist, pulling her back. Her shoes slipped, and she screamed a little, though she suddenly felt weightless.

"Do stop screaming and waking the poor spirits. I'll carry you to the grave if that's what will make you shut up and get things done faster." Vergil said as Skye blinked to find herself in a bride-carry. It would have been a lot nicer and fantasize-able if the body she was pressed to had some actual warmth and human skin to it. As it were, she was currently pressed against ice-cold armour, which kind of brought her to the next distraction.

"I never thought to ask you this before; but don't you feel cold in this armour?" The question was probably not something a person set to die was going to ask, but Skye wasn't going to die with unanswered questions. She only prayed that Vergil wouldn't be cruel enough to make her shut up by putting her to sleep, then killing her in her sleep.

"No. Half demons have particular tolerance to temperature changes." Maybe he was in a better mood –considering he was finally going to be rid of his armour –but Skye thought that Vergil was giving her answers without as much hesitation as usual.

"Must be good for you and your brother, huh? You guys can stay in the sauna for hours."

"Sauna is not exactly what we will put our abilities to good use."

"Well, bite me for being a shallow and uncreative human, then. Sauna is the best thing I can think of for your temperature immunity. That; and the fact that you don't have to wear any cumbersome winter clothes when the weather is trying to freeze all our asses off." Skye answered, shifting so that the design on the man's armour wouldn't be poking at her.

"Stay still, or I'm going to drop you in the mud." The man warned, and Skye froze instantly. Skye might be a little bit fearless when it came to dying, but she had a priorities right: she wanted to die spotless. Well, as spotless as she could after Vergil did whatever he wanted with her body.

"We're here." The man announced, and unceremoniously dumped Skye on her feet again. She was thankful to be able to find her feet before the man let her go, kneeling down in front of a gravestone marker and setting to work digging the mud-soil sludge that Skye was not going to help with.

She couldn't help her chuckle of laughter when moonlight shone on the gravestone.

"Your brother was so poor when he buried you that he couldn't get a proper carver?" Skye asked, holding back her laughter as much as she could.

"I am rather sure he didn't bother about one."

"And he couldn't spell your name right."

"Carvers aren't the only thing he didn't bother about. Books are another." The matter-of-fact answer came while the man dug.

"Does he know how to spell his own name?"

"When we were younger, he used to be too lazy to write extra strokes in his name, so he became 'Donle'."

"Jeez, you and your brother are really the world's best pair, aren't you?" Skye remarked, watching as the man finally stopped digging and reach to reclaim something shiny. She wasn't particularly surprised when he finally straightened up, turning around to show her amulet that looked almost identical to the one he possessed –except that this one had semi-gold plating.

"Great." Skye could swore right there and then that the man had a happy inflection in his tone of voice. "Now all that's left for us is for you to die."

"Wow, aren't we being so happy and all about my death..." Skye replied sarcastically to hide the fear that was beginning to rise. Damn all her readiness to die; it was still a humane instinct to be scared of the pain and the end. She secretly wanted to back out of the deal, but it was being terribly unfair to the guy who had probably put his hopes on her death to return back to normal. Back was the moral question: value her life, or be repay the guy who had honestly given her the best time of her life?

"Get on with it." She said, voice a little trembling, but still strong as she closed her eyes and crossed her arms. In all honesty, she didn't want to see her death coming. What if she accidentally peed herself from fear of seeing the end coming?

"Are you afraid?" The sudden question after a long moment of hesitation made Skye open her eyes again to see that Vergil hadn't moved from where he stood, now holding both amulets in both hands.

"Me?" Skye's voice squeaked. "N-No."

She wasn't sure if she heard the right thing, but the man seemed to chuckle at her obvious lie.

"Give me your hand."

"Are you going to chop it off?" She asked, but obeyed anyway; this time not closing her eyes because curiosity was being a bitch.

"Something like that." The vague answer came, and she watched as the man transfer both amulets in one hand, then wave the free one. She gasped in short surprise to see a sword shimmering into existence in his awaiting hand, then didn't feel so awed anymore when the cold tip of the sword pressed lightly on her palm.

"Can you... um... please make it not hurt so much?"

"No."

"Damn." Skye cursed, adrenaline screaming for her to run. "Okay."

Was that a chuckle she heard again? Before she could ask, however, a stinging pain started on her open palm, and she gave a shriek, jerking her hand back in quick reflex.

"Ow!" She complained, tears of pain and fear appearing at the corner of her eyes. The stinging hand was now bleeding –though it didn't seem as bad as it felt.

"I thought you were more prepared than this?" The question sounded somewhere between amusement and mocking –Skye couldn't decide for sure which was stronger.

"Yeah, well, bite me for being scared. I'm only human!" Skye protested, but her hand was jerked back in extension by a strong hand. She probably should have asked about what was going to happen first before coming, because the trepidation was making her heartbeat at the pace of a racing horse.

"Hold the amulets." The instruction came, and she could only obey, gripping the cold materials tightly once they were transferred to her still-stinging hand. "Take a few deep breaths, then repeat after me."

Skye did as she was told, looking up at the armoured-scaled face of the man. This was probably the last few times she would see this face, and she wondered if she would get to catch a glimpse of the man's real face before she died. "Okay."

"I, Skye Alvarez," He paused, waiting for her to repeat after him, "pledge my blood and life as a human, to Vergil Sparda. With my blood and proof of Sparda's love, I ask of you, Eva Sparda, to release your son from the protection that you have been giving him. Release him from his trigger because he has found something worth living for in his heart. I promise to watch over him, obey him and keep him entertained and happy for as long as I live. By the way, I love him."

"...as long as I live." Skye repeated carefully after the guy word for word, scared eyes pinned on the amulets in her hands since they were beginning to glow. Was she going to die by explosion? "By the way, I love-"

Skye stopped, suddenly forgetting everything as she looked back up at the man. "What the hell?"

"I told you to repeat after me, Miss Alvarez." The man replied evenly. "Finish the sentence."

She didn't think it was really possible, but her face heated up in an instant. "W-Why are you making me profess my love for you? W-Wait h-h-how did you even know?"

"Finish the sentence, Skye!" The man's voice boomed, the first time he ever called her by first name.

Jeez, Skye knew that he was going to kill her, but was he really going to make her die of shame?

"Fine! I love him! I love you! Can you hear me, huh? I love Vergil Sparda, so can you –whoever or whatever you are –please just change him back to his human state, and let me see how ugly he is so that I can die peaceful?!?" Skye huffed, throwing her hands up in defeat.

What came wasn't death, but it was something close. Her shock paralysed her, because armoured arms wrapped around her, and pulled her to cold armoured body.

"I love you too. Now, Mother, I wish to change back to my human state, and live for as long as I can with Skye Alvarez. Grant me this wish, and I shall never let you down ever again."

Skye could swear she could hear someone whisper 'love her well' in her ear, but she couldn't imagine that creepy voice coming from Vergil. Not that she had the luxury of time to figure out who the owner of the voice was, because a strange warmth was starting from the skin-to-armour contact between her and Vergil who had taken her in a surprise hug.

She pretty much stood there, open-mouthed in a gape throughout the entire transformation process as armour faded away, and cold turned into warmth. Hard metal of armour turned into soft firm skin and comfortable cotton clothes (god forbid the guy change back naked). There must have been some added height from the armour's heels, because the general height of the armoured-man shrank slightly as armour and scales turned into shoes. Skye was still in a paralysed state even when the arms around her loosened naturally, and pulled back to show a stranger that she couldn't recognise.

"W-What the h-h-hell?!?"

The man ignored her, looking down at himself, touching his arms, body and face to make sure he felt skin. Skye couldn't blame him for his reactions to his own body returned, but she just stood there, staring.

"You're supposed to be ugly so that I can die in peace!" Skye shouted, her brain working on overload. She didn't even know what to prioritise now. Every corner of her brain was currently filled with cells on high alert about everything that she was seeing, smelling, touching, hearing and tasting.

"I don't recall ever telling you that I was ugly." The voice was exactly the same. The man's appearance had done a complete 180 degrees change, but his voice hadn't. This was the first time Skye was seeing a mouth move, and voice come out. All the while, the armour had been making the sounds, but she had never seen lips move. "And you are not dying. Quite the opposite; I am planning to make sure you live as long as humanely possible."

"Wait, what?" Skye couldn't help frowning. "That's not in the contract that I signed."

"You signed to give your life to me. I didn't say I was going to end it soon." Changing the man back to his human-self after a forced confession from Skye's end had completely kept his character unaffected. "You are still mine, Skye Alvarez. At first you were only mine on paper. Now, even my mother has agreed and bade for me to love you well."

"I don't get it! Isn't me dying part of the deal? Didn't I come here to die today?" Skye backtracked, not wanting to dwell on the word 'love', because that would throw so many more things into disarray. One thing at a time.

"You didn't." The man answered, putting a foot on his own gravestone and giving it a push with his strength. The grave must have really been very cheap, because it fell easily despite the fact that gravestones were probably supposed to stay upright for as long as possible. Part of Skye's mind couldn't get over how elegant he had made the move seem. "I admit that when I first prepared your contract, it was to punish your father and garner me a sacrifice. I read that the key to the gate between the Demon and Human World –which was my mother's combined amulet –held one wish that could only be unlocked with a great sacrifice. I naturally assumed that I would have to sacrifice someone to get the wish. But as I did more research on how exactly to go about it, I realised that the sacrifice had to be given by the person getting the wish. You became practically useless to me in my bid to free myself."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence." Skye grumbled softly beneath her breath.

"Practically useless; but still important to me." The man corrected, clearly having heard her. "As the days passed, and even though your incessant questions irritated me to no end, not hearing your voice and trying to figure you out became more and more insufferable to me. It was then that I began to realise that there was one thing that I could sacrifice to get my wish to turn back into my human form."

"What? You don't look like you've lost anything important to me." Skye asked, her face –if possible –turning even hotter at the man's explanation of how he had come to like her. Surely it was just because she was always the first and only person he faced every day? For someone who had been a loner for so many years because of his armour, surely he was just feeling good to have someone like her who accepted him?

"I've lost something that once used to be my everything." The man answered, waving his hand in the air as if in testing of something. A slight frown drew on his face when nothing happened, though it faded away to resignation after a short while. Skye refused to let herself admire how he could make expressions like those look like a dream. "Power."

"You still look pretty damn powerful to me." Skye answered honestly. He had some mean looking muscles in his lean frame. His broad chest had been really hard –almost as hard as his armour.

"My demonic power." The man corrected himself again. "The demonic side of me cannot exist with love. It gets weak when I love, so when I made the decision to love you, I gave him up."

"That......." Skye hesitated, then decided to just heck it. "Was the most cheesy thing you ever said to me, and I'm feel a little creeped out right now."

"Yeah, actually me too."

Holy Sweet F-, how could a man look so gorgeous with a sheepish smile pasted on his face?

Skye immediately felt her temperature shoot up like a rocket, the blood rushing to her face like a train. She had never been the type of girl to chase after superstars, but she was immediately becoming on, because she felt something wet sliding down from her nose and smelt something metallic.

"You're bleeding." Vergil blinked in surprise, hand (not armoured) reaching up and wiping her nose gently for her while she stood frozen like a statue. "Skye?"

"Help me." Skye whispered, the blood rushing loud in her ears even though her eyes were only pinned on Vergil's face, at the look of slightly concern on his face. "I might actually die from blood loss."

"What do you mean-" The man's sentence was cut off when the nosebleed came again, and this time, Skye swooned.

She had never imagined her life to turn out like this before, but if there was a story to be told here, then she would make it a fairy-tale about how she was sold to a demon by her father, how she had spent her time in the dark with this big, scary demon, how they had fallen in love with each other while he was still in his ugly armoured form, and how he turned out to be the most handsome and charming man she had ever met.

Jeez, she wasn't even a beauty, but she was going to have to call her story 'Beauty And The Demon'.