Chapter Two- Submission

Her eyes widened as she gasped. I'm sure that I wasn't the best thing to wake up to, but I digress. Her paws twitched and her lip trembled as she held a claw out to me.

"You…" she managed; her voice was even quivering.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here too. Get over it."

She looked at the ground, sorrow in her eyes. "Oh great. I really did go to Hell."

I narrowed my eyes and mentioned, "You're not in Hell. You're alive."

"You rescued me?"

I blinked, a bit taken aback by her statement. True, I had indeed rescued her from Death's icy grip, yet I had not acknowledged this until now. I miserably nodded my head.

She furrowed her brow in confusion and shook her head a bit, engaging in her own mental conversation. "This doesn't make sense. Why you? Why are you alive and not--" she caught herself and stopped mid-sentence, yet her eyes filled with tears.

I rolled my eyes. I knew whom she was going to mention: Wizardmon. Merely thinking his name made me wince as I remembered what a traitor he was too. Him I could never forgive, but her… there was a chance for her yet.

"I'm sorry. Forget it, it's nothing," she said, avoiding any awkward glances.

Venturing into one of my closets, I pulled out a bottle of vodka. Seeing as how most of her wounds were not very deep, vodka seemed like a perfect solution. I also pulled out some bandages to cover her wounds.

As soon as I set the two items down beside her, she flinched. "No… get that crap away from me!" she screamed.

"What's the matter with it?" I questioned. "It's just vodka."

"No, that'll burn like hell!"

"You want your wounds to get infected? Then shut the hell up and listen to me!"

She recoiled, as if my words were another scratch on her. She exhaled sharply and relaxed her muscles. Allowing herself to trust me was probably the hardest thing she ever had to do, but in my favor, she did not have a choice.

The more vodka I put on her injuries, the harder it was for her to not scream. I could hear her heart pumping faster than normal, and her breaths were constrained so it would be easier to hold in her tears of anguish. She could have easily screamed, and it was not like I had shackled her to the table. And yet she stayed still, never moving.

A light bulb clicked in my head. It all came together: Her particular choice of words, her submissive and demure attitude, and her sapphire eyes that never quite met mine—she was afraid. It doesn't surprise me in the least. After all, I am intimidating in more ways than one. Six years certainly made me patient, but she had the right idea.

Another important detail about the battle earlier slipped my mind. Grimacing at the thought, I inquired about her partner.

"Oh," she spoke softly, "Kari and I are fighting."

Of course, she piqued my interest with such a lurid detail as this, so I pressed on, hoping for more information. She sighed heavily and explained that the young boy with the Angemon was Kari's mate, or as she put it, "husband." Kari had hoped that the two angels would learn to love each other, which had proved unsuccessful.

Frankly, I was still trying to wrap my mind around the concept that Kari, the little eight year old who became the Bearer of Light, was all grown up now. She had become a bride, and it saddened me to think that in 25 or 30 years, she would become a grandmother, and I would simply remain the same, lonely vampire.

The concept depressed me, but I caught Gatomon mentioning, "I can't believe she'd do this to me. Patamon may be one of my friends, but he could never replace—"

Again, she stopped herself from saying his name. This absolutely irritated me to no end, so I spoke for her. "Wizardmon."

"Yes…" she wept silently for him for a brief moment. I assume she hadn't said his name in years, and as I finished dressing her wounds, a startling comment escaped her lips. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked. "You expect something in return, huh?"

I tried concealing my grin of amusement as I answered, "As a matter of fact, yes. Seeing as how you want to escape your good life, why not take a trip down Memory Lane? Come back… I'm sure you miss being a bad little—"

"Forget it," she cut me off. "You're nice to me just to trick into being your little slave again? Screw that. I'm smarter now, and I will never join you again."

I think what made me start laughing in the first place was that she was being serious. It was a joke, and even she knew it as she scowled. "Face it," I mentioned, "you're not leaving this castle. Not unless I tell you. You will agree to eternal slavery now, or else. And before you start running your mouth, let me remind you that you are an injured champion, and I have the strength of a Mega on my side. You have no choice."

Her dominatrix attitude lashed out as she yelled, "There's no way in hell I'd ever be your servant again! You can't force me to do anything!"

"Submit yourself to me, or you will never see the light of day again!"

Her anger levels rose as she screamed, "I dare you to even try!"

My hands clutched the back of her neck as I picked her up. She fought me, kicking, hollering, and at one point, scratching at my hand to break free. Her efforts were in vain as I threw her against the dungeon walls. Gripping my whip, I cracked it on the floor in front of her. I could feel my own heart begin to race as I felt the whip start to take control of me, almost brainwashing me with its destructive power.

In a snap, her temperament switched from dominant to submissive. She bowed, humbling herself to me, and I put my whip away. "Please…" she mumbled, "don't hurt me. I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."

As I first heard her, buzzers went off in my head. I could hear myself clearly think that there was something wrong with her, and that she was probably lying to me; at this point, I didn't care to know the truth behind her false guarantees, so I let the issue go.

"That's a good girl." I grinned deviously as I locked the dungeon door behind me. Her sobs faded into the darkness as I headed back to my room. I needed to think.