A/N: hi this is the fanfic author formally known as Saint Reed. I wasn't too fond of my old name so I'm trying out this new one.

Anyway on to important matters. This is the first chapter in a new serious that I was thinking about doing. The fic centers on Matt and has a great deal of angst and some torture. I've actually had this idea for a long time, and since I have a slight case of writer's block on Lord of the Nightmare Soldiers, I decided to put some of this down and see how well it goes over.

This is basically coming from the idea that there was more behind Matt's cave than we got to see. I believe that if the writers for Digimon had the Dark Ocean idea developed in time Matt would have ended up there sometime during the first season. But since the dark ocean really wasn't introduced until the second season we never got to see Matt's real struggle with it. So now I've written a fic (well this first part of a fic) that will show what I think might have happened if Matt had actually been taken to the Dark Ocean.

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN DIGIGMON

Prisoner of the Night

Part one: Caught off Guard

And you tried so hard to fit in the light,

But you know you are a prisoner of the night.

And a few more pebbles skid down the path, rolling over soil and bouncing every time they passed over uneven dirt levels before returning to their motionless state, only to be kick by the brown boot and sent into motion again. The small gray stones skipped down the path, making no noise under the abuse they were suffering. They simply followed the laws of physics jumping as the boot connected with them, and then rolling until the force of the blow faded and there was no energy left to send them further. Finally the boot that threw the pebbles from their original spots abounded them, leaving them in the place they last fell and disregarding them as it passed over and continued its trek down the path.

You push them down the path, giving them the strength they need to move forward, hoping that eventually they will learn to travel on their own. But you eventually realize that for all your effort nothing changes. You're still pushing them along, and neither of you is moving very fast. Then all the strength you put into holding them up begins to wear you down until you're broken and too weak to move yourself.

"But was it worth it? Did it even do any good? No, of course it didn't, because if it did then you wouldn't be here now."

Four feet lightly pounded the ground as two figures silently walked down the ever-darkening cave. Two yellow clawed paws hit the ground trying to keep in pace with the two brown boots that gently walked over the obscure path, heading deeper into the cave. The first figure was a small creature so amazing with its bright colors and mythical horn that he looked like the product of a child's daydream. Dark yellow scales covered most of the reptile's body. With a long lizard like tail, almost dragging pudgy arms, and a round belly with a bright blue design decorating his chest and stomach, the little reptile would almost seem unsightly. But this particular beast had a natural softness about him. His crimson eyes glowed with warmth, and his awkward snout almost always seemed to curve up in a goofy grin. But the articles that made this small chubby monster seem magical was his fur coat, that he always wore, and the yellow horn that always stood on the little rookie's head.

The second figure was less conspicuous, but was still a sight for any onlooker. It was a boy, who was far too young to be in a strange world fighting against digital monsters, but was also more solemn then any other being that every treaded this world of data. He had long spiky blonde hair that fell over his face casting small shadows on his ghostly pale skin. His head was hung low as he dragged his feet down the center of the cave. His once amazing cerulean eyes had turned dull, and with each passing second a shadow crept over the usually shining orbs poisoning them with its obsidian cloud.

That's how it was with my family. When my parents first started fighting I did everything in my power to make them stop. Every time they'd raise their voices it felt like insects crawling into my ears, scarping against my eardrums with their prickly legs. They left small scars in my head that never heal. Even once the scratching ended and the insects died, blood still poured from the scrapes that their angered voices gave me. And I tried everything to make them stop. I pleaded with them, begged them to just love one another, but love is too difficult. They loved each other enough to sleep with one another and start a family, but they didn't love each other enough to be silent. And I tried, I help with the cooking, cleaning, taking care of TK, but they still scarred me. I pushed them as far as I could, and now I'm tiered.

"You gave up… that is what's wrong with you. You're too weak. Anytime things get too difficult you just give up, not caring who you hurt once you've drop your share of the weight."

Black walls of ruff stone reached from the dusty ground high above the two figures connecting in an arch, locking them in shadow. The cave stretched on as far as the two figures could see. It appeared to have no definite end, and to the smaller of the two it seemed like a tunnel. A blacken road leading the travelers blinding down into the depths of the earth. You could almost feel the deceit of the cave. Before entering it looks harmless, the perfect escape from the cool openness of night, but once inside you find that it is more complex then it appeared. It was like the esophagus of a demon, black, cold, leading down into the best's belly; perhaps even leading down to the fiery furnishes of Hell. But these thoughts never seemed to cross the boy, as he simply continued to trudge deeper into the cave.

I was just too tried to keep trying, and too angry to care. They told me they were getting a divorce and all I could do was whisper a simple "I hate you" and walk away. That's what I do, when something gets too hard I give up and walk away.

"You didn't care that by giving up you hurt TK, you just wanted to rest. How selfish"

The small monster's eyes darted from one gray wall of the cave to another. He moved defensively through the blackened night, his snow-white fur-coat contrasting with the caliginous atmosphere of the den, causing him to stand out like a beacon of light in the adumbration.

"Matt, maybe we should turn back. I don't like the look of this cave." the little rookie managed to mutter through anxiety.

"Whatever" came the dejected reply.

Matt continued to walk. His hands shoved into his pockets as he bit the side of his mouth in thought. The mist grew thicker. The dark fog poured upon the two companions, creeping to them from the unseen corners of the cave. It floated around them like a curtain, blocking out all reason and light. Matt saw nothing beyond the dark mist. Nothing beyond his fear, his sorrow, and his loneliness. The confusion that always seemed to flood his mind was now pounding on his head with a sound hating migraine.

The air was poisoned, tainted with evil. Evil created by self-hatred. It was thick and heavy, and the hazy air pushed down upon the two, weighing them down so that each step taken in the cave was like agony on the body. Each breath was filled with corruption. The oxygen would enter the companion's nostrils, travel down to their lungs, and then enter their blood stream sending the poison of the cave into every limb of their bodies.

The small monster had a defense from the tainted air, his clear mind and optimism allowed antibodies to attack the intruding poison and fight it off with thoughts of hope and love. But the boy had no such defense. He had no protection from the darkness filling his lungs. The blows that life constantly gave him had long since left him battered and broken. Too unhealthy to fight against the disease infecting him. He could find no hope in his life. No hope for himself, and this made him weak to the illness of depression. The virus of sorrow and defeat infected his body filling his bloodstream with the poison in the air.

If he had been more conscious or cared more for himself then he would have realized the attack upon him. He would have seen that the disease within him was growing and slowly destroying him. But his headache and confusion still weakened his thoughts, allowing him to only dwell on pains from the past. He still felt what was happening to him. He still felt his blood run cold to the point where it was like slits of razor sharp ice flowing through his veins, but he didn't care. He liked the pain. He liked the feeling of dying. Of become cold and numb. A part of him loathed what he desired, but another part lived only to breathe one last time.

He felt drained; he could fill the poison in his mind. His lungs where filled with the murky black, and his blood now carried this diseased mist to his head. The chilling air shattered his headache making all pain vanish as he slowly slipped into torpid breaths.

"I've been living a lie!"

The distant boy announced firmly though his voice leaked with distress.

"You're not a real blonde?" Gabumon asked in bewilderment. He wasn't sure what his partner could mean, and he hoped the innocent answer would at least put a smile on his friend's stone face.

Matt didn't seem to hear the little rookie, but he still replied with an involuntary and pitiful "No".

He breathed out the word as he fell against the rocky wall. He hit the wall hard and the impact sent a jolt through his spin, but he could only inwardly laughed at the pain before sliding to the ground and landing just as hard on the dirt.

His mind went blank of all conscious thought. Memories took over and no matter how hard he tried he could not fight back the images of his mistakes. They flashed in his mind, and with each picture of his own incompetence and worthlessness came a voice narrating the stories behind the scenes.

The voice would sneer and say, "look here is where you got jealous and started a fight with Tai. How pathetic, you not only let your jealousy win you over, but you couldn't even finish the fight you started. How weak, how worthless."

A few moments of silence and then the image changed.

"And here is where little TK and you got separated. You couldn't even keep watch over your own brother. Leomon nearly killed him because you couldn't protect him."

But I got there as fast as I could!

Matt tried to argue back, but deep inside he knew the voice would win. How could you beat yourself in an argument? It was a never-ending cycle.

He knew his transgressions, knew them each by heart. He tortured himself by bringing up every flaw in his life. Sometimes he would try to offer some feeble excuse for his sins, but the defense never worked. And now he was tried of arguing. Tried of trying to convince himself that he was worthy of living, when he knew very well that all he deserved was death.

"And here is where you let Cherrymon convince you to fight Tai. You slowed the group down and put them in danger. How selfish, you're selfish. You don't deserve to exists."

But I was deceived. I was confused, I didn't know! I didn't mean it.

Matt pleaded with the voice, begging his own conscience to grant him mercy, but it was no use. He wouldn't allow himself peace.

"A worthless little brat like you doesn't deserve peace. Why don't you just do the world a favor and fade out of life forever! You're only tainting it with your selfish ways. You're only slowing the group down. You're only teaching TK to be an insensitive jerk! You're pathetic. You're weak!"

"All this time I thought TK needed me, but I was the one who really needed him."

I needed to be needed, is that so wrong? Of course it is; everything I do is wrong. Why am I here? I must be a mistake, that has to be it. God spent so much time on creating the others that when he finally came to me all he had left was the broken pieces. Pieces that didn't fit in any real person. Pieces of vanity, anger, and worthlessness, that's what I'm made of. Broken pieces, results of sin and all that is useless.

"Now you're finally beginning to understand; you are nothing but a mistake. You're a problem, a flaw in the grand plan that will bring peace to the two worlds. You only cause more trouble; you can't even get your own crest to glow. Nothing but a mistake…"

And his conscious faded leaving him with this new affirmation. He was broken. It was like some desolate puzzle. Complex in design but ugly and misshape in form. Each piece was made from a different flaw or vile mistake. Each time he spilt the milk was painted onto a piece. Each time his father would yell at him for his grades was carved deeply in another piece. Each lonely night in a dark apartment was sketched in perfect realism upon a piece, and each piece that made up the decrepit puzzle was proof of his worthlessness. The puzzle was large and intimately crafted, carved, shaped and decorated with deceit, depression, anger, fear, and any other negative emotion that could add its mark to the young Destined's life.

And the mist grew thicker. The cloud of depression began to settle on the boy, it slowly caressed his skin. Its icy hand touch him slowly making its way down his body, sending chills through his slouching form.

Matt pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He curled up as small as he could and then lowered his head to his folded arms.

"Even now your friends are out there fighting, and where are you? You're hiding of course. Hiding in a corner like some terrified toddler. Even your little brother was strong and brave enough to fight with the others. What makes you so different? Why can't you stand with them?"

I don't know.

The argument continued in his mind and all Matt could do was listen. On one side his voice screamed at him, verbally abusing him. Toying with his emotion and knowing exactly what to say to hurt him.

The other side was what was left of him. He quivered both mentally and physically, as all he could do was whimper back meaningless answers.

Gabumon was frightened, confused, and slowly slipping into frantic. He didn't understand what was wrong with his partner. Matt was fading. The light in his eyes had already turned dull. The cloud in his mind could now be seen clearly through the windows of his soul. The tenebrous in the air seemed to be sinking into the boy. Matt's skin slowly began to lighten and grow cold. His eyes glazed and he grew more distant with each passing second.

The small rookie wished that the howling wind would find its way into the cave. Just a simple breeze would blow away the attacking mist and everything would be find. His friend would wake from his trance like state, and the two of them would leave the cave and never speak of it again. If only the wind would blow.

I feel it. Its so hard to explain, but I know its there. Another presence. A dark being, it's in the air. I can feel it fighting over my soul. I can hear swords clanging as demons and angels wage war, but over what? Why would either put in so much effort over me? What good have I done either side? And the Demons are winning. I know they are. I can feel them holding me down. I can feel their strong grips and sharp claws digging into my body.

The mist grew thicker and now Gabumon could barely see his partner. The black fog circled around the boy like vultures circling lifeless road kill. The boy was the perfect prey. He was antisocial and didn't understand certain human concepts of love. He couldn't grasp the meaning of his crest, though he lived it everyday. He was the perfect prize for darkness. One of the most powerful Digidestined, consumed with depression.

I feel so cold, and so tiered. I'm falling; no falling isn't the right word. It feels more like I'm sinking. Like there is some heavy weight pulling me down to the bottom of tundra waters. It's just as well. If I was at the bottom of the sea then I couldn't screw up anyone else's life.

He was fading, like when the television station doesn't come in clear. Gabumon was scared, he was loosing his partner, and he wasn't sure who he was loosing him to.

The mist had its prey. It griped him tightly knowing that if it made one mistake it would loose its only opportunity to claim this prize. It was not just convenient that the darkness should claim this child, but it was also tantalizing. He would be the prefect tool to feed the world of lost souls. Powerful and alone. The perfect weapon against the light. And the darkness would not let him go. No matter how hard he fought, it would hold on to him. It was a part of him. And now he belongs to it.

And I can't explain what was happening to me, all I can say is it felt like I was drowning…

~*~*~

A bit vague I know, but this is just the begging. There will be more of a plot once it goes a little further into the story. So please review, tell me if you would like me to continue this. I'm not going to continue unless people want me to because I am working on another fic, and I don't want to write this and have no one read it. Also please tell me what you thought of it. Was it good? And if so what made it good, or was it bad? And if so what made it bad. I really want opinions on this so I can know what direction to take the fic, if I choose to continue it. Well please review and have a nice day. bye, bye.