• As my father's claws plunged into my breast, I had no thoughts, no emotions. I simply cried out; not in pain, but in regret. I cried in regret because of the fact that my father and mine own relationship degraded so far as to where it would come to bloodshed at his unforgiving talons. I choked, coughing as the claws dug deeper, all the way to where his actual fingers began, and then, I felt the sharpest jab as the claws twisted sideways, tearing away flesh and muscle as it did so. The entire time my father gripped me that way, twisting, snarling, cursing, I simply wept in silence, fearful not for my own life, but for my father's.

    Long ago, I remember the day that my father rescued me from the lab in which I was bred. I was naught but a five year old boy then, the strange feathered dragonwings sticking from my back and I cried and stumbled through the darkened forest. My body was sticky from dried blood then; I'd had to hunt animals, had to chase down a small deer, just so I could have something to eat; so my desire for flesh was sated. I couldn't believe what I'd done; nor could I believe that the poor creature deserved death by my developing teeth and talons, yet.. I knew that if I didn't do something then, if I didn't kill the animal, I too, would die.

    Vincent found me that night, crying against a tree, my head tucked between my knees, sobbing to myself. He took me in, and from that night on, I lived my life where I felt normal, accepted, with a family of other dragons; though none of them were close to what I was. I'm an angelic silver dragon, an odd breed, infact, I'm probably the only one of my kind in existence. Anyway, where was I at now? Oh, right... My father was twisting his hating claws into my chest, attempting to rip my heart out. Luckily enough, I'd twisted to the side at the last moment, avoiding the death that was likely to follow his lunge.

    Our feud was signed in blood, upon that stone; the stone that jutted out in my memory like a cliff; rather, a jagged mountain. That stone was where my father and I spent our first few minutes, deep within the woods, where he'd sacrificed his necromancy to be with me; to spare myself and himself hurt when my powers counter-acted his. He stabbed himself, spilling blood onto that stone, and then I did the same, my blood washing over his with a sizzle and a crack as both blood types fought for dominance. It was sort of like now; the feud was continuing for dominance, yet it wasn't blood fighting blood.

    It was flesh fighting flesh. Father fighting son. Lover of one woman fighting lover of another. That is what all of this was over, wasn't it? Dominique's pale face flooded my vision, the snarl appearing on her lips once my father put his lover down. His lover made accusations at Dominique, and with a bloody roar, my father.. Vincent.. could I call him my father anymore? Charged, running across the open, snowy ground with his metal boots making heavy thuds; almost as heavy as my heartbeat in my chest. I could see what he was thinking; he was going to kill Dominique, and in so doing, he'd kill me to get to her. Some father he was..

    My memory clouded soon thereafter. I remembered no more of the situation regarding Dominique, regarding myself, and regarding Vince. All I knew now was pain; I was a being who was not only made to feel pain, but was pain in itself. My body convulsed and I fell out into the snow, my father's bloody claws retracting themselves as my brother assailed him on my behalf. I remember though, the last thing I remember, was Vincent's angered yell as my claws swiped into the airs and cut off all the fingers on his right hand. Then once more as Drake jumped on the monster of a man that was my father.

    I collapsed in darkness upon that stone, crying out not in pain, but in agony.