Marianne
DISCLAIMER: I once again don't own the little digital monsters that in spite of my desire to call my own I cannot. The only character I own is Marianne.
Myotismon strode purposefully down the darkened streets. Tonight he was here to complete unfinished business, and he would not leave until this was done.
He paused on a street corner to survey the houses before him. Very little changed in a month, he mused, although the 'missing person' posters were new.
Footsteps sounded on the pavement, and he quickly melted into the shadows. A woman was walking hurriedly down the street, face downcast, collar turned up against the cold, her jet black hair unhelpfully short. Myotismon raised a disdainful eyebrow. Stupid woman. Didn't she know how dangerous it could be to be alone in the dark?
Crack.
A twig snapped almost silently in the dark, but with his refined senses Myotismon heard it perfectly. The woman of course was oblivious. The only part of Myotismon's body that moved was his eyes, and with them he saw him.
A hulking, monstrous shadow that seemed to belong to the night was gliding up the street, mimicking the woman's moves, but ever so slowly catching up with her. A curious battle was going on in Myotismon's mind. True, he had come to this sleepy town to play the hero for once, but part of him wanted to just sit back and enjoy as the creature – he could not think of it as human – and its bowie knife did their work.
But in spite of this desire, he could not bring himself to abandon this woman to her fate. This thing had to be stopped, before it did any more damage.
Myotismon raised himself a few inches off the ground. His levitation would come in handy tonight. He didn't make a sound as he came up behind the shadowy figure. It was as focused on its task as Myotismon was on his, and even if it weren't, there was nothing for it to hear.
For Myotismon didn't breathe, and he had no heart to beat rapidly.
Myotismon's powerful hands grasped its head in a crushing grip, and then with one sharp twist he snapped the killer's neck. With the resounding snap came the strange feeling that he had done his duty, and try as he might to shake it off he couldn't. Looking up, he suddenly realized that since he had killed the man – in death he seemed suddenly human, a reminder of mortality – the woman along the road had been watching his every move, frozen with shock.
Myotismon met her gaze, and as soon as he did so she was spellbound. He smiled cruelly. It wouldn't hurt, he decided, to coin a phrase and… kill two birds with one stone.
He returned to ground level and walked over to the immobilized woman. He ran his tongue over his long canines, then turned her face up to his, wrapping his arm around her.
His icy eyes met deep pools of brown, and he almost fell over. "My God… Marianne!"
The spell was broken, but a new one had been cast when he uttered her name. She stared at him. "Who… who are you? How do you…"
He ran a gloved finger across her cheek. "You cut your hair…"
Her eyes clouded like she was trying to remember who he was, like she had met him before.
But Myotismon abruptly pushed her away and turned on his heel, disappearing into the night and leaving her alone.
He knew he would have trouble sleeping when morning came.