"Envy"

A word that oh so accurately has seemed to define my life. Crawling and scratching in at every corner of my mind. Engraving itself in my very existence.

It's the word that has followed me throughout my tortuous existence. Born with a father whose idea of a good birthday present being the back of a belt. A mother whose existence seemed to only be good for wallowing. Praying absolution for a man who she hoped would change.

And some days he would. He would pretend to become the loving father, caring husband and stern teacher. Then the withdrawals would come. With it the rage. The lust. The mockery.

I remember my 13th birthday. I had just come home from the school after finally building up the courage to ask out my crush. Lucy a girl who always seemed to have a smile on her face. I still remember how fast my heart beat when she said yes and the way her eyes would light up with that smile. Nothing could have ruined that day.

Until he did.

He walked into the kitchen smelling of alcohol with a smile on his face. That was my father the one that my mother fell in love with. At the time I didn't understand what a mask was. How we use them to survive and hide our darker tendencies. The mask simply looked at me and spoke

"How's your day been son"

Me being the fool I was didn't understand at the time. Just how cruel a man could be. How quickly one could change.

"D...Dad, I did it. I asked out the prettiest girl in the whole world. You should have see-"

I was on the floor before I even got to finish. I put a hand to my burning cheek and didn't dare to look up.

"You think she'll ever love someone like you. A loser. Look at me! I SAID LOOK AT ME!"

He grabbed my chin and made me look into his dark cold eyes. Then he slammed my head into the floor.

Tears stained the floorboard and that was the first time I ever felt it. The urge. The urge to kill. To want to hurt someone so bad that not even their soul would remain.

Yet the only thing I could do was cry... cry about being weak. Cry about not being born stronger.

"The only thing you'll ever be good for is kneeling before greater men."

And then he just walked away. Like nothing ever happened. And I just layed on the floor. Blood coated my hair and face. My mother eventually came back from work and simply lifted me up onto the chair and patched me up.

No asking who did this to me. No seeking of retribution. Only an empty shell of a human being.

So, I crawled to my mother tears in my eyes and asked her "Why, Why do you let him do this to us!"

And as my tears hit the floor she would lift me up and whisper in my ear "The man I love will come back one day. I just know he will". A lovestruck look on her face.

He never would.

I woke to a start. Feeling like I had just been doused with a bucket of ice-cold water. The first thing I noticed was the extravagant room I was laying in. Crescent moons etched into the bedframe and curtains seemingly made of the materials so precious it made diamonds look like shit.

The sky was so entrancingly dark. With a crescent moon that screamed of beauty and isolation.

T..This isn't my room. I lived in a crappy one-bedroom apartment. The most expensive thing I owned was a fucking Iphone 8 I got from a pawn shop.

My mind raced. Perhaps I was on drugs? Wouldn't be the first time. But no. This felt to real. I touched my silk bedsheets and knew. I knew firsthand. There was no drug that could make you feel like this.

I groggily stood up and stumbled into the just as extravagant bathroom. I needed to see myself. Something was wrong. And as I gazed into the mirror. I saw a monster. Or maybe more accurately Me.

"Alistair von Harrowvane" I muttered. Or more accurately "The Devil of The Obsidian Sanctum".

A major villain of "Dusk and Dawn". A game developed by an unknown developer in my original world. Centered around a cliché. Of a hero and his entrance into an academy in order to train to defeat the demon king. The beauty of the novel however was never the premise. It was the protagonist. Dante. A man who suffered so much that even Sisyphus would shed a tear. A protagonist who never seemed to win even in the end when he finally slays the demon king. No matter how much the player would try or how powerful he would get. He would still be left with nothing. His lover slain in front of him. His comrades sacrificing themselves for a "greater" cause. No family to share his fortune. Many hated this novel for just how much suffering Dante had gone through for nothing. I loved it for that.

The start of Dante's misfortune came with Alistair. The two were rivals and constantly came to blows against each other through almost every arc of the book. Eventually Alistair would succumb to his jealousy of Dante. How Dante had the love he never had. How Dante had people willing to die for him. Alistair was always one of the sadder characters however not a single person sympathized with him. We don't choose our beginnings but we do choose how we let them shape us. And Alistair who lived the life of a scoundrel eventually met the fate of one. A villain who was destined to die. If not by the main protagonist hand then the countless others he had offended.

An individual who lived life guided by his pleasure alone. One who would never bend to another.

I punched the mirror as hard as I could. As the window shattered the pieces stuck into my hand. Causing me to bleed all over the sink.

Yet all I could do was stare into the mirror. A pair of such beautiful dark lavender eyes dripping an aura of lust and trickery. I never knew a man could be this angelic with eyes of such sin. A jawline that could cut stone. A Body seemingly chiseled from marble. With broad shoulders and a wide chest. I was the epitome of nobility and perfection. Yet on the right side of the shattered mirror. I saw Me. The ugly vermin I was.

Brown eyes with a beady looking face as I had always remembered myself being described. A chin that seemed to go inward and a crooked nose.

Two sides of a mirror.

I was a coward, a mongrel, a loser.

I clenched my fist so hard blood oozed all over.

No longer.

My name is Alistair Von Harrowvane. This world will be mine. And I won't ever go back.