A/n- Well, the rating is for gore. This is my horror fic, I keep tryin to
write more comedy, but I'm too screwed up right now to be so cheerful.
It'll have atleast four chaps, I think. Thank you to all of you who are
taking time to read. Just a heads up, I switch from Japanese to English
names frequently. Sorry.
Disclaimer: Digimon ain't mine.
He laughed slowly. That light and sinister laugh that always scared her.
"Yamato?"
The laughing grew louder. She was freaked. That's it. She ran. She ran faster and faster out the door and the rain hit her face. Sometime between the big oak tree and the main road, she began to scream. She had never really screamed from terror. She did now though. Her throat began to hurt from the screaming and the running in the cold and wet. She had remembered being glad for the rain. They could all sit around and talk. Now she cursed it as she fell to the pavement, slipping on the wet cement, being
clad only in house shoes. Well, as close as Kari had ever come to cursing.
She looked at the bleeding heel of her hand and the rip in her cotton pajama bottoms. She realized she was about 100 yards from the giant farmhouse. It's brilliant blue paint almost gray because of the rain and distance. She looked the opposite way and wondered how far it was to a road where someone would actually drive by. Did getaways always have to be so faraway from everything?
She wanted to turn back time. Tell Mimi that maybe a weekend together out here wasn't a good idea. She had a semester exam two weeks from now, maybe on Christmas break. She cried harder, now aware of the fact that she could not possibly get more soaked.
She looked in all directions. First the house, to the left, a huge field stretching on forever, at the right, the same, and then the road, but there was something up ahead on the side of the road. A faint variation in color from the gray and dank greens registered in her sight. It was something white or yellow. Small but it sloped into the ditch. She got up feebly and stumbled along staring at the object. A thought came to her mind as she approached it.
Yamato and Iori went for a walk this afternoon. Where was Iori? Or Yolei? She knew where Sora was. Sora was on the floor by the fireplace, bleeding slowly from her chest. She wasn't going to move either. Not anymore, but Yama might.
She looked behind her. Noone. Maybe he had let her go.
She focused again on the object, closer now, and tried to forget about where everyone was. The thought jumped back into her mind as she drew
about ten feet away. It was a hand. Small and white, it was spattered with mud. She didn't want to look but she did.
Iori had tried to climb to the road. His shirt was covered with blood and torn to tatters in the back. He'd been stabbed, brutally. Repeatedly. The rain made a sickening "splat" sound on the blood, and the grass in the ditch was stained dark pink. She want to puke, but she kept it down and walked to the other side of the body.
His face. It had a surprised and scared look. The cold frightened stare in his eyes made her skin crawl. That look was so like him. Innocent and knowing. Yamato had told him why, why he was doing this. She just knew he had for some reason. He had taken him out here and told Iori what was bothering him. Then Yamato just slew him. Stabbed him over and over and over. For what reason!?! She swore as she looked into the young boy's eyes. She promised herself a promise she was sure she would keep. She would find out why Iori and Sora were lying dead on their vacation and why
their friend had done it. She would look him in the eyes. The same person she had fought with, that had fought for her. She would look him in the eyes and ask him why he had done this.
Kari would go back there, face him, save the others, and stop him. We'll get him help. She considered this. She'd go back there and face the crazy guy twice her size. The one brandishing the knife. Ya' know, the one that's killed two of his own friends already! Good idea, she thought.
However, a promise was a promise was a promise to Kari. She took another look at Iori's face and crossed her arms over her bare stomach. The blue tank top she had planned to where to bed clung just above her belly button. She shivered and began to walk, slowly.
She thought she was going crazy for the things that popped into her head as she walked to the farmhouse.
"The scantily clad she-warrior walks to meet her certain doom at the hands of one she once trusted. How will our heroine stave off death?" Sounded like one of TK's early works to her. Her mind raced through all sorts of hair-brained schemes to thwart old Yama. How did she know that he hadn't broke down and started to cry, horrified at what he'd done? Maybe he'd come to his senses.
No. There was a look in his eyes. It was him, but it wasn't. Like the look Iori had had on his frozen little face, but Yamato's look was one of a quiet madness. The kind of madness that made you smarter, that made you indignant. Like some horror movie scientist. He wasn't some loon that fell off the wagon yesterday. No, he was the genius kind of crazy. She could tell.
She was half the distance to the house now. The rain had eased up to a light drizzle and she strained to see into the upstairs window where they'd been hanging out. The light was on. "Good," she sighed. Although she wasn't sure what that meant. Does that mean she'd be able to see them all lying dead on the beautifully stained wood of the upstairs rec. room in the old farmhouse? Hooray!
Now she was losing her nerve, thinking about Taichi asking his friend to "Please put the knife down," and Yamato laughing. Laughing and then charging, ramming the knife through her brothers old nightshirt into his small muscular stomach and Tai gurgling blood. It was crystal-clear the way the image came to her. She believed it was how it had happened. Joe, Daisuke, and Koushiro would be staring wide-eyed not quite believing what they'd just seen. Tai would still be tasting the irony, metallic taste of the fresh blood in his mouth and Yama would pull the knife out, smile, and jam it in again. She let fresh tears replace the old.
No, that couldn't be how it happened. They had seen him coming and the four of them had stopped him. Yes, she would go upstairs, Koushiro would be reciting directions to a 911 operator, and Joe would be rushing around looking for rope. Yamato would be on the floor face down hands behind his back. Daisuke would be sitting on his legs stopping his thrashing, and Taichi would have his foot pressed against Yamato's wrists, binding his hands. Her conquering hero, always had been, always will be. Yet, this image of her brother and friends saving all of their hides was not quite as clear as the first. Nor as believable. She could not see him taking them all on at once. He would hide in the dark rooms of the old house and wait for them to split up. That crazy intelligence would out smart every last one of them. Like Jack the Ripper or Ted
Bundy. Although they might be smarter than a bunch of prostitutes, he had one thing that those guys didn't have. Trust.
~ Oy. Well, the next chapter might take some time. Depends on if some things fall through this weekend. Thanx for reading! Pleez review. Next 'un will be from a diff. POV.
BTW, Soulmates, my last fic, will not have any chapters added to it. Sorry to all those who asked me for some. I love leavin you guys to wonder!!!!
Disclaimer: Digimon ain't mine.
He laughed slowly. That light and sinister laugh that always scared her.
"Yamato?"
The laughing grew louder. She was freaked. That's it. She ran. She ran faster and faster out the door and the rain hit her face. Sometime between the big oak tree and the main road, she began to scream. She had never really screamed from terror. She did now though. Her throat began to hurt from the screaming and the running in the cold and wet. She had remembered being glad for the rain. They could all sit around and talk. Now she cursed it as she fell to the pavement, slipping on the wet cement, being
clad only in house shoes. Well, as close as Kari had ever come to cursing.
She looked at the bleeding heel of her hand and the rip in her cotton pajama bottoms. She realized she was about 100 yards from the giant farmhouse. It's brilliant blue paint almost gray because of the rain and distance. She looked the opposite way and wondered how far it was to a road where someone would actually drive by. Did getaways always have to be so faraway from everything?
She wanted to turn back time. Tell Mimi that maybe a weekend together out here wasn't a good idea. She had a semester exam two weeks from now, maybe on Christmas break. She cried harder, now aware of the fact that she could not possibly get more soaked.
She looked in all directions. First the house, to the left, a huge field stretching on forever, at the right, the same, and then the road, but there was something up ahead on the side of the road. A faint variation in color from the gray and dank greens registered in her sight. It was something white or yellow. Small but it sloped into the ditch. She got up feebly and stumbled along staring at the object. A thought came to her mind as she approached it.
Yamato and Iori went for a walk this afternoon. Where was Iori? Or Yolei? She knew where Sora was. Sora was on the floor by the fireplace, bleeding slowly from her chest. She wasn't going to move either. Not anymore, but Yama might.
She looked behind her. Noone. Maybe he had let her go.
She focused again on the object, closer now, and tried to forget about where everyone was. The thought jumped back into her mind as she drew
about ten feet away. It was a hand. Small and white, it was spattered with mud. She didn't want to look but she did.
Iori had tried to climb to the road. His shirt was covered with blood and torn to tatters in the back. He'd been stabbed, brutally. Repeatedly. The rain made a sickening "splat" sound on the blood, and the grass in the ditch was stained dark pink. She want to puke, but she kept it down and walked to the other side of the body.
His face. It had a surprised and scared look. The cold frightened stare in his eyes made her skin crawl. That look was so like him. Innocent and knowing. Yamato had told him why, why he was doing this. She just knew he had for some reason. He had taken him out here and told Iori what was bothering him. Then Yamato just slew him. Stabbed him over and over and over. For what reason!?! She swore as she looked into the young boy's eyes. She promised herself a promise she was sure she would keep. She would find out why Iori and Sora were lying dead on their vacation and why
their friend had done it. She would look him in the eyes. The same person she had fought with, that had fought for her. She would look him in the eyes and ask him why he had done this.
Kari would go back there, face him, save the others, and stop him. We'll get him help. She considered this. She'd go back there and face the crazy guy twice her size. The one brandishing the knife. Ya' know, the one that's killed two of his own friends already! Good idea, she thought.
However, a promise was a promise was a promise to Kari. She took another look at Iori's face and crossed her arms over her bare stomach. The blue tank top she had planned to where to bed clung just above her belly button. She shivered and began to walk, slowly.
She thought she was going crazy for the things that popped into her head as she walked to the farmhouse.
"The scantily clad she-warrior walks to meet her certain doom at the hands of one she once trusted. How will our heroine stave off death?" Sounded like one of TK's early works to her. Her mind raced through all sorts of hair-brained schemes to thwart old Yama. How did she know that he hadn't broke down and started to cry, horrified at what he'd done? Maybe he'd come to his senses.
No. There was a look in his eyes. It was him, but it wasn't. Like the look Iori had had on his frozen little face, but Yamato's look was one of a quiet madness. The kind of madness that made you smarter, that made you indignant. Like some horror movie scientist. He wasn't some loon that fell off the wagon yesterday. No, he was the genius kind of crazy. She could tell.
She was half the distance to the house now. The rain had eased up to a light drizzle and she strained to see into the upstairs window where they'd been hanging out. The light was on. "Good," she sighed. Although she wasn't sure what that meant. Does that mean she'd be able to see them all lying dead on the beautifully stained wood of the upstairs rec. room in the old farmhouse? Hooray!
Now she was losing her nerve, thinking about Taichi asking his friend to "Please put the knife down," and Yamato laughing. Laughing and then charging, ramming the knife through her brothers old nightshirt into his small muscular stomach and Tai gurgling blood. It was crystal-clear the way the image came to her. She believed it was how it had happened. Joe, Daisuke, and Koushiro would be staring wide-eyed not quite believing what they'd just seen. Tai would still be tasting the irony, metallic taste of the fresh blood in his mouth and Yama would pull the knife out, smile, and jam it in again. She let fresh tears replace the old.
No, that couldn't be how it happened. They had seen him coming and the four of them had stopped him. Yes, she would go upstairs, Koushiro would be reciting directions to a 911 operator, and Joe would be rushing around looking for rope. Yamato would be on the floor face down hands behind his back. Daisuke would be sitting on his legs stopping his thrashing, and Taichi would have his foot pressed against Yamato's wrists, binding his hands. Her conquering hero, always had been, always will be. Yet, this image of her brother and friends saving all of their hides was not quite as clear as the first. Nor as believable. She could not see him taking them all on at once. He would hide in the dark rooms of the old house and wait for them to split up. That crazy intelligence would out smart every last one of them. Like Jack the Ripper or Ted
Bundy. Although they might be smarter than a bunch of prostitutes, he had one thing that those guys didn't have. Trust.
~ Oy. Well, the next chapter might take some time. Depends on if some things fall through this weekend. Thanx for reading! Pleez review. Next 'un will be from a diff. POV.
BTW, Soulmates, my last fic, will not have any chapters added to it. Sorry to all those who asked me for some. I love leavin you guys to wonder!!!!