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Darkened Whispers	By : Britt_601 Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 3837 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the DMC series nor is any money being made off of this.

Chapter List
- 1-Trial
- 2-Restraint
- 3-Cycle
- 4-Greed
- 5-Mirage
- 2
- 3
- 4
Cycle
This is the house where Dark lives.
This is the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the car with the bloodied horn,
That hit the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the woman all frowning and scorned,
That banged her head on the bloodied horn,
That hit the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the monster all scratched and torn,
That bit the woman all frowning and scorned,
That banged her head on the bloodied horn,
That hit the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the priest all covered with gore,
That cut the monster all scratched and torn,
That bit the woman all frowning and scorned,
That banged her head on the bloodied horn,
That hit the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the father that screamed in the morn,
That alerted the priest all covered with gore,
That cut the monster all scratched and torn,
That bit the woman all frowning and scorned,
That banged her head on the bloodied horn,
That hit the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the daughter, crying and forlorn,
That told her father that screamed in the morn,
That alerted the priest all covered with gore,
That cut the monster all scratched and torn,
That bit the woman all frowning and scorned,
That banged her head on the bloodied horn,
That hit the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
This is the teddy bear smelling of decay and worn,
That was held by the daughter, crying and forlorn,
That told her father that screamed in the morn,
That alerted the priest all covered with gore,
That cut the monster all scratched and torn,
That bit the woman all frowning and scorned,
That banged her head on the bloodied horn,
That hit the dog,
That killed the cat,
That ate the rat,
That licked the blood
That lay in the house where Dark lives.
Dark wasn't a fan of sunlight, or basic light for that matter. For weeks he scoured for a residence to call home, away from humans and the bullshit trailing after them.
When he found his abode nestled deep in the woods, he took to re-furnishing his place... by means of stealing furniture and décor right out of stores inside his shadows. He fashioned his house out of the swarthy colors of black, red, and silver, supplying the abode in styles of Gothic haute couture. But soon he discovered he wasn't alone.
About forty years back, a scientist created this house for his wife, son and daughter. With rejected funding from the board of directors he wallowed in despair and anger, soon taking his failed experiments to his family. His wife and son didn't make it through the night with their biological enhancements, but his daughter prevailed as the victor. He kept her locked inside her room, feeding her scraps while increasing the dosages and blood work. When he “trained” her enough, he took her out for some bonding time.
The scientist followed the board members and their personal schedules, remembering their daily habits in preparation for his retaliation. Every night at the darkest hour he unleashed his scarecrow-looking, disfigured daughter onto the unsuspecting men, leaving their gnarled bodies to discovery by the public and their families to see.
One night, in a drunken rage, he didn't lock the door properly, the daughter sneaking inside his room to wait for him in silence. The scientist became the victim of his own creation when she tore open his throat and gorged on his flesh... or so the rumors go.
Her only solace linking her to any memories of her mother and sibling resided in her teddy bear, the one she cradled onto as if her life would be nothing without it. When Dark read the article in an old newspaper in the library archives he couldn't find himself to throw the stuffed animal away, leaving the room in its tattered condition.
And the scarecrow-looking girl who still lived there.
For some odd reason she didn't bother Dark, sometimes following him or slowly lagging behind while he took walks around his property. He didn't mind it, though. Perhaps she sensed that he dwelled as a lonely soul in a sea of chaos. Or maybe she deemed, like her, that he was a monster created from the selfish desires from those who once governed them.
While reading up and learning more about the house, some carefree child had gone into his home and explored one day. By the way she navigated the premises it wasn’t her first go-around. She knew where the kitchen was, the living room and bedrooms with practiced ease, however she seemed a bit startled by the updated décor. Dark melded into the shadows, watching her with curiosity after he followed her up to the daughter's room.
“Hi, Mr. Teddy-kins,” she said in a voice full of radiance and sunshine. Her auburn-gold hair and dark blue dress provided an ethereal light brightening the pale, toneless room.
Dark phased into the umbran corners of the bedroom, only peeking his head out from the mist. How unprecedented. He didn't see a reason for a little girl to know about a place like this. And how in the hell did she slip away from her parents to be over here, if she had any? If it so happened that a family lived in or near this forest, then they deserved to lose her.
“Father Phillips is coming today to see me. He says that you're a bad influence on me and mommy wants you thrown away, but I won't let her!” The child pouted in dismay, her tanned cheeks rosy and puffy with her mouth pulling downwards. Her green eyes glassed over when she hugged the worse-for-wear toy. “I'll show them to you, Teddy-kins. I'll bring you home with me so they can see what good friends we are.”
Oh... that was so not a good idea.
He wondered how this child remained alive if the scarecrow-girl hadn't ripped her to pieces yet. Did they happen to form an alliance and they became friends? Did this little girl remind the monster of a time that she would no longer get to experience? Surely if this fledgling was some random drifter, then scarecrow would have picked up on her scent. Nevertheless, for some reason, she stayed out all morning and only returned at nighttime.
“Let's go,” she smiled, voice laced with mirth, cradling the teddy bear close to her heart, skipping all the way to the door and leaving.
What a peculiar display. Not only did this little girl contain bravery to trout through this place all on her lonesome, but she made friends with a cotton animal in the worst shape of its life. He supposed he should have said something to her to scare her away, but he figured since she trotted around here like no one's business, she knew what she was doing.
Crimson irises watched her run in the long grasses, drawing wonder to the innocence of childhood; so many young minds ignorant of the dog-eat-dog world surrounding them. Often times, he wondered how it would be if he remained oblivious to society, but that would remain the biggest fable he'd ever endure. He would much rather live a bitter truth than a sweet lie. What's the point of sugar-coating shit when the reality of it would reveal itself eventually?
Protecting young virtues from the cruelty of nature damages them with expectations seldom to be met when they reach adulthood, if at all.
Her petite form shrunk to a tiny shadow disappearing into the early morning rays, carrying that old toy with her. To what purpose she befriended the thing he could only speculate, but if he knew anything about attachment, his roommate would have one hell of a hissy fit when she saw her property missing.
And she probably sensed a disturbance already. He recognized another dark figure moving in quick strides in a diagonal, soon to intersect the happy girl and the teddy bear.
A/N: The poem came from the poem This Is the House That Jack Built originating in England and has since gone through some changes as time waged on. It doesn’t have a definite author so I can't tell you who created it.
As you can see I modified the lyrics to fit that thing you call Dark so I hope it somewhat matches. Geez, due to this hot weather I had it written a week ago, but it was too hot to type so my apologies!
And Dark has gained a new friend! Aww... or is it eww?
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Darkened Whispers