The Prisoner Arc I: The Surrender
Run.
She took the corner sharper than she intended, banging a knee on to the floor when her feet twisted and slipped. Scrambling back up nearly made her fall head over heels from her momentum, but she—had no time to waste, gotta move now, move, moveMOVE!—regained herself quickly and continued her frenzied run. The human's breath came in fearful pants as malevolent chuckles and hounding taunts echoed around her.
The shoulder of her new clothes was torn by one of her assailants before she had managed to flee them. Fabric fluttered behind her like frantic wings as she ran through the dimly lit halls and caverns, and a yelp escaped her paled lips when a pursuer's hand—groping, the unwanted touch tearing and scratching, hurts, stopitstopitno—grazed it in an attempt to seize her.
Hide!
Ocean eyes closed tightly; taking a deep breath, the girl suddenly changed course with no warning and doubled-back the way she came. Clumsy grapples brushed against her, and her pursuers cursed in surprise and ire as they found themselves being tripped and stumbling over each other trying to follow, buying her some precious time and distance. While they tried to gather themselves, she had already braved ahead and disappeared into the darkness.
She found what seemed to be the darkest corner in a quick enough manner. The human huddled in it, seeking to slow her panicked breathing and slapped a hand around her mouth to smother her whimpers and cries.
Wait…
Her assailants showed up shortly after, the dimming lights from the halls revealing their demonic forms briefly as they hurried past with jeers screaming from their lips and evil glares in their eyes.
A sharp, muffled sob shook her shoulders. The girl curled into herself with tears beading on her lashes, sliding into a ball on the floor as her knee throbbed and her chest tightened with a burning ache from containing her cries. A shaking hand grasped onto the pendant hanging from her throat—a simple thing, an uncut stone attached to a thick chain, the look in his eyes when he told her never to take it off—and she hoped that he kept to his promise.
…Sometime Earlier…
She was beginning to understand what Einstein meant by the relativity of time.
Based on how many times she's fallen asleep, she assumed that five days have passed since being taken prisoner.
The human quickly realized that her keeper liked to keep to a relative routine. He took at least two baths daily, and cleaned his guns at least twice as much; she found it fascinating to watch his compulsive need for cleanliness, though it was annoying how he also enforced a bath on her as often as possible. While the area that they kept to seemed to be in perpetual twilight, the Glutton Lord took to dragging her out of his cave late in the day to patrol around the mountain and the edges of a nearby village on—how weird to have one, though she admitted that it completed the look—a motorcycle that was named Behemoth.
She never saw him sleep. The digimon always seemed to have his hands busy or just stood guard at the opening of the cave of the tall mountain that made his home, yet the digimon himself never seemed to tire. He ate plenty, about twice as much than what she could stomach at a single sitting, and often times looked like he was restless yet content at the same time.
It disturbed her that she suddenly felt so at ease around him. The confident promise he spoke of at the baths—"You will come crawling…seeking to please me"—echoed in her dreams still, making her break in shudders when she thought of them, yet the girl couldn't deny the heat curling in her gut with the phantom memory of his hand. The Glutton Lord terrified the ebonette with his stoic stare and itching trigger finger; annoyed her when his boisterous laughter would sound every time she squeaked in surprise if a passing digimon happened to startle her. He confused her with random gifts and acts that could be almost seen as kindness—finding herself waking in his bed every morning when she was sure that she fell asleep sitting in a corner, and seeing clothes laid out next to her to be worn for the day.
She chewed on her lip in thought as the girl took in the most recent outfit, furrowing her brows at the choice of top for the day. Black pants styled like that of a hakama, if her otaku side remembered correctly, that tied high at the waist yet left her hips and the top of her thighs bared due to the gaping holes in the design. A black binding wrapped around her breasts, serving no greater purpose than that of a strapless bra, and a billowing over-shirt that buttoned underneath her bust to tuck into the hakama was made from a sheer purple material, hardly making her feel comfortable. It didn't escape the human's notice that she had been dressed in her keeper's colors today.
A memory rose to the forefront of her mind as she fiddled with a sleeve. It had been straight after they had left the baths that night that the mega known as Beelzemon took her through the village; no sudden and dizzying travel through the shadows again, which the girl had been most thankful for. He had let her walk next to him, though the demon lord always made sure that she was within arm's reach or had curled his tail around her waist if she seemed to drift away. The flower woman—couldn't meet her eyes, the hollow smile staining her lips, looked away as if she didn't exist—had spared her a bath robe and outdoor slippers to ward off the chill until her keeper finished his business in the village.
The reception that had greeted them as they traversed the village streets still baffled her.
/"Beelzemon!"
"Welcome back, Beelzemon!"
"You were gone too long this time!"
"Did you bring any candy?"
The human gawped at the mass of tiny bodies that swarmed her and her keeper. Most were gray with massive, wing-like ears, but there were some that looked like blobs of either black or pink, and all of them cried joyously at the sight of the fearsome Glutton Lord.
Said mega showed no outward response to the happiness directed at him, dutifully ignoring their voices with a cold stare forward. Nothing softened the straight line of his lips or kindled warmth in those red eyes; his expression remained straight and unchanged, and it would've chilled her if the delightful clamor didn't surround her still. Yet the child-like monsters weren't discouraged by the indifferent demeanor, instead they hopped out of his way gleefully or followed behind while chanting his name.
She felt as if someone had pulled the rug right out from under her. The shock numbed her slightly, but confusion whorled her mind as her view of this world tilted on its axis and inverted itself. Her first moments in this world had been filled with nothing but darkness and fear, surrounded by those with malicious intent or hollowed from past sins, and seeing the child-like innocence among these infant monsters caused her eyes to water and throat to burn.
The demon lord had pulled away slightly as she gazed unsurely at the flock, and it was all the permission that they needed.
An embarrassingly loud yelp escaped her as a tidal of tiny bodies swept her up and started carrying her off. The child-monsters laughed unconcerned and squeaked mockingly back at her.
Her frantic eyes went straight to her keeper, and only when she saw his laughing expression at her plight that her face began to burn brightly.
"Relax human," he called to her, an amused glint kindling in his eyes and a touch of a smile on his lips, as his words were echoed by squeaking high-pitched voices. "They're only taking you to dinner."/
The digimon children had, in fact, treated her to a buffet of strange foods that night—the green apple she bit into burst with the flavor of lemon-peppered chicken, the squealing laughter of those around her when she choked with surprise—and afterwards had kept her busy by forcing her to play several rounds of tag. It was…liberating to act like a carefree child again, and with each laugh that left her that night, she had felt the fear that suffocated her being pushed further and further away.
She had fallen asleep in a dog-pile of tiny bodies long before her keeper came back for her. There was a vague awareness of feeling them being pushed off before warmth surrounded her in the form of strong arms cradling her to a chest. The pride in her had been stung with the indignity of being carried like a child so many times that night, but her heart had snapped back and relished the contact like one would the sun after being neglected from it for so long. After all, her heart had reasoned while her lethargic mind slowly digested it and wounded pride had gone away to sulk, when was the last time?
/Hands that were once large and strong that once held her entire world in them felt so frail as they tried to soothe her sorrows away—/
A hand slapped against her thigh before the girl lost herself too far in that particular memory, even as tears gathered to her ocean eyes as the brief vision of dark hair and a gruff smile flitted before her like a ghost. She rubbed them away roughly, reminding herself that she couldn't afford to break apart now, and glanced to the opening of the cave that served as her keeper's lair.
Beelzemon was standing guard as he often did, his back to her with the dim glow of the ever-present twilight haloed around him. While grateful, it puzzled her that he had yet to take liberties since that night at the hot springs. The mega seemed to be more at a loss since he affirmed her virginity—"You're fucking Untouched, aren't you?"—and kept contact at a bare minimum between them; the helpless look in his eyes when he stared at her when the demon lord thought she didn't notice made her think that they weren't in two entirely different boats. The girl could admit to being curious on why that fact made such a big difference to him, but every time the opportunity arose to ask questions they were dashed by a wary shyness that was hesitant to break the calm.
As if feeling her stare, the Glutton Lord glanced back over his shoulder at her while pushing off from the cave wall. Though his expression was blank, seemingly deep in thought, the air around him felt tense and electric. She felt as if she were gazing at a distant storm—not yet feeling the screaming winds, but able to see its fearsome power heading her way.
His three eyes seemed to glow in the twilight as he gazed at her. Pale blue lips were curled in a slight frown, and the girl gave a look of wary inquiry.
"Something's happened," he remarked lowly, flashing his eyes back to the mouth of the cave as a displeased sneer formed on his lips. "Lucemon's demanding another Congregation, so someone has either screwed up royally or about to for one to be called so soon. Unfortunately that means you have to come with; I have no doubt that someone will attempt to snatch you the moment I'm away."
The girl took a step back and paled slightly. Her keeper frowned deeper then walked over to be by her side. It was only when he unfolded his arms that she noticed the parcel in his hold.
"What's that?" The words escaped her before she could reel them in, and she automatically ducked her head shyly with a warm blush.
A twitch of a smile graced his expression for the briefest moment. "Why so shy, human? It's for you."
Her head snapped up in surprise, and she watched him unfold the package in interest. A mischievous light glinted in his red eyes, and as soon as the contents of the package unfolded in his hands he tossed it at her without any warning.
The squawk from the surprise attack of fabric was muffled when her gift ended up wrapped around her head. It did not, however, muffle the boisterous laughter at her struggles and whines of frustration when the fabric refused to release its prisoner.
"You're so pitiful," the mega commented good-naturedly with a smile stretching across his face. "It's like watching an In-Training fight its way out of a wet paper bag; pathetic but funny as hell." When he finally took pity on the human, he pulled the fabric to the side and was thanked with a displeased, ocean-colored glare. The Glutton Lord acknowledged it with an inelegant snort. "How terrifying, human. I quake before you."
Her indignant blushing coupled with barred teeth and twitching eye only served to cause him further amusement, as evident by the smirk he held even as his clawed gauntlets assisted his human in correctly adorning his gift.
Wounded pride reared its ugly head within her, but the girl quickly reined it by taking the corner of her mouth between her teeth and biting down lightly. The patronizing was one thing she could go without on a daily basis with her keeper, and it incensed her to be treated like a child. He hadn't even asked for her name—though she had no fantasies of the demon lord ever treating her as an equal, she wasn't prepared for the constant belittling and how matter of fact he was about it all.
The human was intimately aware of how powerful her keeper was; she did not care for the continual reminders.
Whether it was human nature to be frequently contradictory or if it was just her bitterness of the situation getting the best of her, she couldn't help the childish act of pouting fearsomely while refusing to look at the mega. Her arms even went as far as stiffly crossing over themselves, interrupting her keeper from fiddling with a zipper on her newest garment.
He paused, and even with the helm one couldn't mistake the expression of incredulity that crossed his face.
"Are…" the digimon started, his words stumbling through lips that trembled with mirth, "are you really pouting?"
She gave a disinterested shrug, still glaring at a far wall.
As such, the girl didn't notice the impish grin that settled his lips until it was too late.
The feeling of something warm and slimy worming itself in one's ear is often an unpleasant sensation, especially if the one in question isn't expecting it. Thus it came to no surprise when the shrill squeal left the affronted human.
"Gross!" the ebonette howled while hopping away, using the palm of her heel to ground out the cold wetness his tongue left behind in her ear. "That is so gross! Why would you do that? Eeew~!"
The accomplished, smug look on his face spoke of all the reason he needed. More loud laughter left him at her continued whining; however Beelzemon graciously backed off to allow his human to gain her bearings and went back to the mouth of the cave to intercept a pink bird-digimon messenger.
She sent a disgusted glare at his back, darkly muttering insults under her breath as she did so. Then the girl noticed the gift that draped over her.
Oh… Her thoughts stopped and stuttered and struggled to acknowledge that the digimon that just gave her a wet willy was also the same one who provided such a comfort. A long black coat made from loose, thick cloth with the ends brushing the tops of her feet covered every inch of her body that her current garments made her self-conscious about. Its style reminded her of the western dusters that she watched and envied about on television screens, with additional features like the strap going across where the zipper ended at her throat and a hood that she gleefully threw over her head.
"Good," came his voice from behind, and the girl stiffened and sharply turned to face him. The mega stared back at her approvingly. "It fits."
A pale hand removed the hood slowly, and her dark tresses spilled back over her shoulders. She blinked when a loosely clenched fist rose before her face, and her eyes focused on the pendant swinging between his fingers.
It was a simple thing, an uncut but smooth stone barely the size of a quarter. It hung from a thick chain with wire wrapping to keep from disturbing its smooth surface, and with it cast in direct twilight the girl mistakenly thought that it was clear; only when Beelzemon lowered the pendant into the shadow did she notice its true beauty. Enthralled, the human couldn't help but delicately balance the pendant on her fingertips and tilt it back and forth to witness the pearlescent rays captured in the milky stone. A gentle sigh of wonder left her as she took in the soft shades of blues and violets and the slight glimmer of data that was embedded into it, telling her that it was something of the world she was taken to and not from the one she called home.
The pendant slipped from her fingers as her keeper placed the necklace around her throat. A snug fit due to the short chain, as the stone came to rest below the hollow of her collarbones, but it was something that she could easily get used to.
Cold, metal fingers curled around her jaw and eased her head up. The girl swallowed uneasily as her ocean gaze took in the grim expression of the mega before her.
From the shadows cast by his helm, three eyes as dark as blood glimmered back at her with an unnatural glow. "Never take it off, human," he softly demanded, urging the seriousness of the situation with the frown resting on his lips. "I don't trust any of them, and someone will separate you from my side tonight. That thing around your neck might be your only protection, do you understand?"
Shaking fingers hastily moved the pendant under the collar of her new coat.
"Good girl."
With no further ado, the Glutton Lord swept her into his arms and carried her into the darkness.
-/-\-
/He waited until the pagumon carried her off out of sight before carrying on through the village. A kapurimon bounced into his path and quietly greeted the mega.
"In here, Sir Beelzemon," the tiny purple-ringed child-mon directed, twilight shining dully on its metal cap. It bounded back towards an alley between two huts with the demon lord following easily behind, and within moments both digimon came to a humble yurt.
With a nod, the kapurimon dismissed itself leaving Beelzemon to continue through the curtained threshold. Within the yurt was dark, though cluttered by bits and pieces of rubbish. Metal shards and rock dust shimmered from the light of a single candle that staved off the darkness, and the mega bypassed all the odds and ends to come before the light.
The slithering sound of shifting fabric broke the silence, the cause hidden in the shadows still. "Been awhile since you've come around."
Beelzemon didn't even flinch at the sudden appearance of a gangly creature wrapped completely in metal-studded belts, a blue tail contrasting with its white body and a pair of feathered wings looking out of place on the lanky being. An X-shaped belt crossed over its eyes, rendering the creature blind to all yet its head cocked to the demon lord's direction.
The Glutton Lord looked back coolly. "Gargoylemon, I'm calling in a favor."
"Straight to business as usual," cackled the winged creature as it lumbered through the darkness. Its raspy voice continued even as objects clattered noisily in the darkness, "No 'How've you been, Gargoylemon?' or 'Nice haircut you got there, Gargoylemon'. Always 'Do this' or 'Make that'—'I'm calling in a favor, Gargoylemon'. Bah, no respect."
The biker-esque mega easily ignored the rant and sat on a stone bench before the lighted candle. He tugged off his vest then opened his jacket, barring his naked chest and narrowing his crimson eyes into the darkness. "Time is short, Lucemon is acting more erratic then usual and the window of opportunity is closing fast. I can't be worried about anything else—I need your particular crafting skill."
Its head popped back into the borders of the light with quivering, winged ears. "Little soon to be so concerned about your new human pet, isn't it?"
Berenjena's safety clicked off loudly, and the belted creature shrugged. "No questions about the human. Noted."
Beelzemon didn't know how it knew about his newest addition, and didn't care to ask. As he waited, his resolve to go through the next procedures merely firmed in spite of Gargoylemon's relevant question. The events at the bath kept circling his thoughts—her flushed skin, dark eyes welling with tears, Untouched—and the only answer that came to him was the Memory.
/Rain and flashes of light. A battle that forever scarred the land. A malevolent grin flashing in the darkness and his master's hollow face before exploding to data./
Never again. Cold fury sharpened his glare as the thought repeated like a mantra. Never. Again.
Gargoylemon reappeared before him then, whistling lowly at his expression. "Yowch, careful where you aim those eyes of yours. Might set something on fire." It whipped out an impressively sized, empty syringe at this point with a wickedly enthusiastic grin on its face. "Won't lie, this is going to hurt a lot."
With that the creature stabbed the syringe in the mega's chest with all the force it could muster, its aim directly hitting where a human's heart would be.
Beelzemon gave a sharp yell and gnashed his teeth, but allowed the act to continue. He hissed painfully as the elongated claws raised the needle's plunger, drawing out brightly glowing, crystal-like liquid into the barrel.
"If you're curious, I'm extracting data directly from your core," Gargoylemon informed distractedly. "Nothing consequential, should be replicated easily enough within the next few hours—but uh, do tell me if you get any blackouts, sudden increase of giddiness or appetite, or any extreme cravings or sensitivity okay? Can't be perfect all the time you know."
Within moments the barrel was filled, and the belted creature easily removed the needle. A blackened claw tapped the side of syringe and Gargoylemon nodded, satisfied. "Give me about three or four days, the data-stone should be set by then. I would advise you to stay until the dizziness passes though."
A growl tore through the demon lord's throat as the room spun in his vision. As his body suffered through the sudden loss of data—dizziness with an added dose of nausea to boot—Beelzemon took the creature's advice and settled. His human would be alright with the children until he came back./
Crimson eyes stayed in a flat glare as Beelzemon lead his human through the darkened caverns of Twist Mountain—site of the Demon Lords' neutral grounds as well as the Congregation. His plated tail curled lightly around her waist; even through she followed tightly to his heels without any prompting, it seemed to settle the girl to have something solid around her when traversing the near-blinding darkness. He could tell by the slowing heartbeat that he felt pulsing next to his core.
The gargoyle's craft had not failed him; the data-stone created from his extracted data was serving its purpose brilliantly. Not only did it completely cover the girl in his Signature, but it will keep other digimon from trying to attach their own Signatures on her—hiding the human from any other digimon trying to trail or capture her, as the result would only cause the pursuers to bumble directly to the Glutton Lord instead. So any brave and stupid servants of even more idiotic masters that would think about trying to pull one over him would be repelled away from the human and towards him as they would try to hone in at the wrong Signature.
An unfortunate side effect that the mega overlooked, however, was that he could feel his human.
All. The damn. Time.
The rapid thad-thump-thump that beat its own tempo at his core was incredibly distracting, as well as a tumultuous swirling energy that he only recently discovered was her emotions of all things. Cold fear and twitching anxiety merged in a nauseating mixture, relieved only by a reassuring safe feeling that welled up whenever his tail curled around her waist. There were a dozen other feelings that were storming within her that the biker barely discerned, and it blew the mega over in waves that nearly placed a stumble in his step.
Holy fuck. Beelzemon gave a heavy sigh and shook his head slightly to clear it from his human's dizzying emotions. No wonder the damn girl is so high-strung.
Just before entering the arena that served as the Congregation meeting place deep within Twist Mountain, the two halted before the sudden appearance of the golden-masked onii.
"Now just a moment there, Glutton Lord."
His metal plated hand reflexively attached to his human's shoulder as the Greed Lord approached them. While Beelzemon did not trust any of his fellow Demon Lords, Barbamon was amongst the top of the list that he wanted his human to steer clear from. It had the reputation of being a careless collector, eager to take anything that interested it but having no problems letting whatever it took wither away as long as it remained in its grasp. Barbamon was well known for even letting its servants die due to thoughtlessly letting them be cut down by an enemy or not even bothering to remember that they have need of sustenance as well.
There were few digimon that disgusted Beelzemon more than Barbamon did.
Its red eyes glanced at the human briefly before it sniffed imperiously and leered towards the biker-esque mega. The golden mask gleamed ghoulishly, and the girl smartly glued herself to her keeper's side. "As you have just arrived," Barbamon began, "I just wanted you to be informed that Lucemon has decreed that no one will be allowed to have their servants present during the meeting Congregation. After the last one's debacle and Lust Lord's response…well, you must clearly understand that no one wants a repeat."
This came to no surprise for Beelzemon, having already anticipated such an excuse. As he felt his human tense and his link with the data-stone responding with numbing horror the mega knew that she understood what this meant.
"All servants will have free reign outside of the Congregation and must not disturb the meeting for any reason," the Greed Lord continued, a smirk appearing as it emphasized the hidden meaning in its words.
Beelzemon's expression was cold and uncaring to the demon lord's threat. "And the human?" he inquired with a tone that inferred that he cared not for the answer. "How am I certain that she won't find a way to escape?"
Barbamon's smirk stretched thinly. "Lucemon has taken care of that. With everyone here now, the Pride Lord is manipulating the datastream for this level of Twist Mountain to be a continuous loop of hallways that'll either have dead ends or result back to this point. The only way out is for one of us to open the Doorway; the human couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried." The golden-masked onii leered back down at her. "And I insist that you try."
Having heard enough, Beelzemon callously dismissed his fellow lord while ignoring the incessant ping of uncontrollable panic coming from the data-stone link with his human. He heard the low laughter of Barbamon echoing back, however his three eyes caught the eager and nefarious expressions of a few certain lords waiting in the arena beyond.
Lilithmon and Daemon, whispering together with a fiendish light in their eyes as they headed towards their thrones. Beelzemon held no doubt that those two were the key players in what was about to begin. Other than Lucemon, those two had the most amount of servants under their title out of any other lord present, and the Glutton Lord would bet his own core that Lilithmon had seduced the atrocious mega to fight for her team.
Off the bat he knew that Leviamon and Belphemon held no interest in either joining the upcoming event or siding to a team. Barbamon was a wild card—it could be hiding a couple of its servants among Lilithmon's and Daemon's throng, but it could easily just sit back and watch the chaos between him and them. And Lucemon wouldn't care either way, being the one instigating the hunt by enforcing the sudden "no servants during Congregation" rule and essentially making a maze for the human to be trapped in.
The odds were not stacked in her favor.
Knowing so, and still sensing the panic through the link that was paralyzing the girl now, Beelzemon adjusted his grip from the human's shoulder to the back of her head. His tail forced her up against his front, and in a show of blatant domination to the gazes of all the others awaiting him tugged her head up into the perfect position for him to lean down and pull her into a bruising kiss.
The tilted angle of her head forced the girl's pale lips to part just before the Glutton Lord connected, allowing him unrestricted access to explore the new territory with his tongue. Her breath seized in a gasp when the mega brushed against her tongue only to stroke the sensitive roof of her mouth. Her ocean eyes snapped to his garnet ones with turbulent shock in her gaze, his with a stoic chill that did not match the fervor of his tongue dancing with hers.
Sensing panic being replaced with the usual chaotic mixture of confusion, fear, and the curious hint of something warm and thrilling that sent a jolt to his core, Beelzemon pulled his lips away and trailed towards her ear as small, shaking hands found purchase on his leather jacket. To all others, he was making a show out of how easy it was for the girl to be overwhelmed to the point of panting as the uncontrollable blush bloomed across her face. And they all bought it with their hoots and whistles, a couple of them scoffing at the blatant performance.
As such, they didn't see the human stiffen and force her hands back down to her sides, nor watched how the Glutton Lord's mouth moved oddly against her ear as if he was speaking.
After a moment he straightened to a rigid line, the biker-mega's expression seemingly unmoved after the passionate display. He marched into the arena without hesitation, his frame eclipsing the human's smaller one with little difficulty as she was briefly hidden from all sight.
By the time he moved further into the Congregation, the human had disappeared.
-/-\-
"They're hunting you."
She ran as soon as her keeper turned his back, the words that he whispered still echoing in her ears.
"They're hunting you." He had said like a sigh, his voice nearly inaudible from the sudden ringing in her hearing. "As soon as I turn away, it'll start."
Panic had nearly descended upon her again with these words. As if feeling it well up to overtake her, her keeper had once surprised her and took the ebonette's breath away with a gentle touch of his lips on the point between her jaw and ear to force her focus.
"Keep moving if possible," he had advised. "They can't see in the dark any better than you, use it. Stay quiet. They only have power on their side, so if they get you, that's it. You can't escape, but you can hide. I'll find you."
Then he stood up, looking like he hadn't just given her the best kiss she's ever had in her short life, and murmured the most terrifying words she's ever heard in her short life.
"Now run."
And she ran. She ran as the devils dogged at her heels, as indiscernible jeers and mocking taunts filled the dimly lit halls and caverns, as she felt the brushes of their hands seeking to take her. The stitch in her side had to be ignored, along with the burning in her lungs and calves. She never had to run as fast nor as far before, but at this moment the girl thought distantly that she could give the track team in her old high school a run for their money.
But her last turn was a mistake that became an abrupt end to her track.
A gnarled hand seized her upper arm and she gave a shrill scream, going into a blind panic with a blur of flailing limbs seeking to hit her assailant. More hands joined in and soon she was surrounded by grasping and groping and glowing leers and groans as they rubbed against her—
"Stop it!" she screamed hoarsely as she felt a couple of wandering hands trying to find the end of the zipper to release the coat that hindered any progress.
"Stopit!" Her pleas ignored. Hands painfully squeezed any available curve she had through the coat, a couple tried to cup and grind against her crotch with little success due to the design of her pants and only managed to grab her inner thighs. She felt more than heard the tearing of the shoulder of her coat when one got impatient enough and all the girl could think of was that her first time was going to be a gang rape and it's gonna hurt—!
"NO!" Fuelled with fear and adrenaline, she twisted like a crocodile in a death roll and there was sudden freedom! as the hands were incapable of holding her tight. While curses and shouts sounded from her pursuers, the human took the chance and dashed through legs and reaching limbs and back to the open.
With torn fabric fluttering and curses shouted from behind, the chase continued.
And she ran.
-/-\-
Giving his human the data-stone was the worst decision for his health. During his early stages—when he still held a curiosity for all things human—he had heard rumors about their fragility in the form of what was called a heart attack.
Beelzemon could swear on his core that he was experiencing one at that moment.
His human's emotions ran rampant through the link; pounding terror prevalent through the clouding panic being chased with mind-numbing, repetitive need to runrunrunRUN-!
His own data ran through codes like human blood did veins, and it throbbed in time with the rapid staccato forcing its rhythm next his core. The Glutton Lord felt as if he was the one being chased, the stone arms of his throne cracking under the pressure of his hands that he refused to acknowledge were trembling and that he was on the brink of hyperventilating. The conversation that his fellow lords were having passed over his head without any comprehension due to the ringing in his ears. Vision tunneled to a blur, jaw tensed so much that what looked like a vein started popping from his temple that was thankfully covered by his purple helm.
That was when he felt pain.
It wasn't excruciating or necessarily painful like a cut or a hit, merely present like a headache would be. But he felt it burn across his chest, his sides and hips, even his shoulders and thighs and it took every bit of his strength not to shatter his throne and gain attention.
They caught her.
With her emotions muddled like a soup and intensified to a point that nearly made him double over, the mega nearly believed he was right there sharing her trauma. Thoughts swam through on how there was so many of them and will they go one at a time or altogether and it'll hurt so damn much—
Then relief. Freedom again! Run. Hide! Wait…
Had Beelzemon been a weaker mon, he would be sharing in her sobs in time with the receding terror now being taken over with hesitant hope and awaiting dread of a promise he swore to keep. Because he wasn't, however, the Glutton Lord instead took a depth breath and took advantage of his human's relative calm to try to push away her influence over the link. It took longer than he cared to admit for his emotions to stop echoing hers, but it was with a sense of accomplishment that the effect of the link became a faint reminder next to his core along with a weak pulse rather than the heavy staccato.
Regaining focus, Beelzemon just caught the tail end of Daemon's colorful tirade. "—stards never even saw it coming. Doubt the glitch can even walk to this day!"
Lucemon smiled benignly. "And we're all so glad that it's finally out of your system. Anyone else wish to share their latest conquest?"
A couple shifted in their thrones while other murmured under their breath, all glancing to see if anyone else will speak up. Daemon opened his mouth to start anew before a sharp look from his smutty partner in crime shut him up; the Lust Lord seemed particularly anxious to finish the meeting if the less-than-subtle glances at the exit didn't clue anyone in.
The hunt. Beelzemon's expression formed a half-scowl. He double-checked the link and was satisfied to note that the girl found a good place to hide and still hasn't been captured. Bitch won't be so confidant when my human is back at my side. If I have to tear a few heads to get her back, well… The scowl shifted upward maliciously, and the biker relished in the taken-aback flinch that the digi-whore made in response. The fact that he had been glaring intensely since the start of the Congregation must have worn down her prissy façade if she was allowing others to notice her uneasy shifting—a response that Beelzemon was vindictively gleeful over.
Even with the tense atmosphere radiating from the Glutton Lord, Lucemon glanced around in an almost benevolent manner if the cruel gleam in his eyes hadn't given him away. "Well then, on that note I regret to inform everyone that another outpost in the south has been razed."
This caught everyone's attention. A grimace was found on nearly everyone's face, including his own. The third outpost in the same area, and so close together too. Beelzemon gritted his teeth. With no one caught either…
"Belphemon I advise you to be wary," the Pride Lord advised. "The attacks seem concentrated in your territory, I'd hate to have found that a surprise attack took you out."
"My lord," the Sloth Lord acquiesced with a tilt of its head, hardly the face of worry as the mega planted its chin back on its fist and started snoring away.
"…And with that, I decree that the Congregation adjourn. Until the next one, that is," the demonic angel simpered with the dismissal.
It took all that he had to not sprint out of the arena. However, the biker had the pleasure of sneaking behind Lilithmon and disappearing into the shadows before she could even think of following him. Opening the link to his human again, Beelzemon allowed her emotions to wash through his core and followed the invisible trail that tugged him through the endless loop of hallways.
The increasingly familiar myriad of sensations—that could only be described as complexly human—nearly sent him back into a haze, but he pushed through it and focused on the trail rather than the return of the heavy thad-thump-thump coursing next to his core. As he analyzed the feeling, the mega was startled to realize that his human felt faded compared to the intensity he was constantly exposed to. The link was still a slew of dizzying emotional mixtures, but it felt—she felt very…
Slow. Distant. Still, but not calm.
There was a reaction of sick twisting in his core that Beelzemon did not like. He did not like feel of this faded wave over the link—did not like how it rolled through his data like syrup, thickening around his being and causing a heavier haze to fall on his mind…
The biker tightened the link and closed it as much as he could when he noticed how he slowed down considerably. Coding a couple of devimon punks along his way didn't do anything to raise his spirits; nothing would be able to scrap the sludge-like feeling his core was covered in.
His feet stopped. Beelzemon did not care to admit the moment that it took to register that fact, and that the reason was that he was at the end of the trail. Three garnet eyes drew themselves to a dark corner hardly touched with the torchlight where he felt the suppressed link pulsing from, and his ears strained to hear muffled breathing coming from it. It was with great trepidation that the Glutton Lord opened the link fully—forcing through that damning syrupy wave that crashed through him—and sent his own influence through to the data-stone.
A bright glow responded from the darkness, and Beelzemon finally glimpsed at his human from its harsh contrast.
She was an awful sight to behold; the right shoulder was torn from her gifted coat, but the gray-skinned mega counted his blessings that it seemed that the rest held up fairly well. He was more concerned about the glassy stare in her dark eyes paired with the stony, almost horrified expression fixed upon her face if he hadn't noticed the pale and shaking grip her hands had around the glowing data-stone.
"Human." Her body flinched but her face remained unchanged, nothing seemed to comprehend through her mind. A sensation akin to panic began welling in his core, but Beelzemon refused to acknowledge it. Instead he snatched the girl into his arms—and she felt so cold and tense in them and he wanted her warm and draped across his chest with a soft look teasing her lips—dampened the link—where is the tempest and storm and what is this stillness befalling her now—and got the hell out of dodge.
At that point, everything became a blur to him. Later on Beelzemon would remember flashes of his shadow travel back to Twila Town, instinctively seeking the bath house for sanctuary, before the next thing he knew they were both half-naked and sitting below a warm shower in his usual room.
His helm, gauntlets, and leather jacket were tossed carelessly with her overcoat and the sheer purple tunic she had underneath. The water streamed down his back, and she was enfolded within his lap with her face pressed against his naked chest and his arms keeping her there. The mega focused on the stark contrast of his gray skin against the pale peach of hers as he returned to the present. Skin-on-skin contact and the trickling water did wonders for his human, as she also slowly regained awareness and pulled herself closer with a soft whimper.
An exhale of relief escaped him as the back of his head met the tiled wall. "You will be the death of me, human."
"Diane."
The mega grunted inquiringly.
"My…my name is Diane," the ebonette whispered, a slight hitch in her voice. "Quit calling me human."
Beelzemon looked down at her genuinely confused. "You mean you all aren't called that?"
The incredulous glance she returned answered him.
"Huh, learn something new…"
She leaned back with an even more befuddled expression. "You honestly think that all humans just call themselves 'human' all the time?"
"Thought," he corrected. "Past tense, as in I no longer think that way."
A scoff escaped his human, and he was pleased to note that the distracting subject returned her previous vitality through the link. "So what, if another one of you was walking around-?"
"They would also be called beelzemon," the mega helpfully enlightened. "Our names encompass everything that we currently are, have been, or ever will be. Two digimon know each other upon sight, even if they have never met before. Are all human females named 'Diane' where you come from?"
"Not really," she frowned thoughtfully, and he studied the furrow in her brow with interest and relief at the unconscious—human—quirk. "Names are reused a lot, but not everyone is named the same or even for the same reasons, you know? One thing that humans want to be proud for is individuality, so there are hundreds upon thousands of names for someone to be stuck with, and more thought up every day."
"What do you mean by the reason for the name?"
"My mother named me after a really famous song in my world," her voice lowered to a whisper at the remembrance. "It was actually kind of embarrassing when I found out what that song meant in my middle school years, but it was one of her favorites. But there was another Diane that I met once named after a princess, or the Roman goddess, or a variation like Diana, Dana, Danni…"
Beelzemon was silent as he contemplated. "So many ways to separate yourselves from each other, just on a name alone," he observed.
His human—Diane, he reminded himself—shrugged back at him. "Humans like to believe that we're all unique, that there is only one of us in the entire universe and that we're here to leave a single footprint on the earth before disappearing forever, never to be seen in any likeness again."
"Unique…" the digimon mused. "Humans are unique…but digimon are reusable."
Diane physically did a double-take, ocean eyes staring at him as if his words were unthinkable. "Re-reusable?!"
He nodded wisely. "Digimon never die or decay, there really isn't an end for us. When we are defeated and coded, we return to a cycle of rebirth and awaken back at the beginning; only special circumstances would cause a digimon to cease existing. So we are not unique."
"I don't believe that." This time he had to stare at her, and the confidant look in her eyes caused a strange twist to his core. "Would another Bellzmon help me?"
He choked on air at the blatant, unintentional butchering of his name and the tense air diffused immediately. "Out of all the—seriously? Be-el-ze-mon, Beelzemon…"
She blinked. "…Oh." A mortified blush glowed on her face as she suddenly averted her eyes, and he couldn't help himself.
"Would you stop laughing at me?!" Diane growled at his abrupt guffawing, reflexively smacking his bare chest in frustration. A yelp escaped her as his arms pressed her tighter against him, and the ebonette was forced to straddle his lap while the mega continued to lightly chuckle into her ear.
"You are a riot," he purred back at her, and the blush on his human's face brightened almost dangerously as gray hands roamed to her exposed thighs. Her inhale hitched in a slight gasp as thumbs teasingly dipped in the space between material and skin to caress the inner thigh; his garnet eyes burned impishly when he felt her legs twitch and tighten around him. "To answer you, no. No other beelzemon would come for you…"
His superior digimon hearing caught the breathless whimper as he inched his hands toward the ebonette's hips, thumbs boldly stroking the heated flesh by kneading themselves further into her pants. For every inch he covered, the mega swore that it felt hotter and increasingly damp the more he continued, and there was a responding stir in his core that made the biker hiss out.
"…because you're mine!"
The link burst open and flooded his core with heat and instinct that made his control snap when her hands threaded through and pulled his blond hair, and her open mouth met his in a clumsy kiss she initiated. A different sort of haze descended as he allowed the girl to experiment with her tongue inelegantly; her technique left much to be desired, but the raw energy she used more than made up for it. It was at that point that Beelzemon noticed his hands tearing through her breast band and the sides of her hakama, fingernails scraping against the exposed skin, and they both shivered at tingly sensation. The digimon stared in a dazed manner over his human's shoulder when she disconnected their mouths to kiss along his jaw in a rough imitation of his earlier attentions.
Hello, what's this…? Came the sluggish, nearly drunk thought that floated barely in his conscious mind. The gray-skinned mega puzzled absently over that momentary shiver and what caused it, but his attention came back with a startled growl at a timid nip on base of his neck.
It was with a snarl that he returned the favor, lathering the slim column of her with expertly controlled bites—smoothing his tongue over the abused skin at the sting it caused—and her moans were positively delicious to hear. Unrestrained, interspersed with pants and gasps, and accompanied by that satisfying flush that reached all the way to the dusky peaks of her breasts. His hands roamed her naked torso, following down the curve of her spine, around her hips, and up to palm those quivering mounds that begged to be touched—she nearly became lost in the touch, heat coiling low in her belly—before trailing back again. His core churned and his cock ached in its confinement, and another snarl left him when the light pressure of her hand against his chest sent the nerves into shocked sensitivity.
And damned if everything wasn't positively maddening! The pawing of her hands in his hair, the pleading gasps rolling from those swollen lips—his teeth pressing against her pulse and fuck if she didn't start throbbing down there—and Beelzemon couldn't take it anymore.
With a burst of constrained speed, the mega pressed his human into the tiled wall and lifted her into another dominating embrace. Her hakama was rendered useless the moment he tore the sides out, so it hung between them and no longer covered the important bits—meaning that her exposed nethers pressed nakedly against his abs and they both groaned loudly at the touch.
He could feel her damp heat spreading across his stomach—she could feel the firm press against her clit—and her hips jerked reflexively with a cry as the Glutton Lord began rocking their hips together that did nothing to quell the inferno burning within them.
And in the back of his mind not in this glorious haze of heat and holy fuck this feels good, Beelzemon was terribly confused. Even as he reengaged a fearsome liplock with his human that made her whimper, shudder, and submit under his more skilled tongue, the digimon mentally compared his previous experiences with other digi-women and couldn't make any sense of it.
Why was his core writhing, making his limbs twitch at her gentle touch and his eager flesh to throb in time with his racing data-pulse? What was this sensation building up inside himself? None of his past encounters made his limbs tremble so or cause his data rush through his being, so why did everything feel so foreign and intense—?
Oh.
"Fuck!" The mega ripped his mouth away from hers with a hiss and reluctantly quit grinding against his mewling, quietly protesting human. In fact his whole being protested stopped and was so close why did he stop-!
It was with great self-control—reluctant as it was—that Beelzemon stamped down on the link from the still active data-stone, and instantly all the heat and pleasure in him tapered down to more familiar level that his head finally cleared. He panted as his body ached from being under the tempest of everything that had been Diane—every emotion, every thought, every touch…
Holy fuck, his mind kept repeating as he finally gained ahold of himself. Holy fuck, how do humans live with being so fucking sensitive?! No wonder she basically seized the first time in the baths.
"The necklace," came another heated hiss, and the ebonette dazedly looked up at him. His eyes held something barely restrained and absolutely primal; even as lust-addled as her brain was, she trembled weakly at the blazing glare. "Take off the necklace!"
With shaking hands, Diane quickly obeyed and the milky-blue stone was gently tossed to the side.
His shoulders slumped and a sigh left him, whether in relief or frustration he couldn't tell. Without her echo, the mega on got the vague sense of where the data-stone was at and nothing else; it felt like the equivalent of ivy water being dumped down his back, and it quelled the rest of the heat still burning in his core.
Beelzemon glanced down at his shaking and confused human, and he was relieved that her nakedness only sparked his usual interest and nothing more. "You're making it very difficult to keep my promise." His hands steadied themselves on the wall next to her shoulders, and the girl cautiously clung to them as if they were her only anchor. The digimon allowed it, remembering the heat that coursed through the link and had no doubt that her inexperience made her less likely to control that lust as easily as he did. "I mean what I say—you'll need to beg for it first."
Then she went and took him by surprise.
The ebonette latched onto him, pressing those swelled breasts that he had palmed just moments ago against his chest, took hold of his blond hair and whispered desperately, "And what if I am?"
Author: (grinning evilly while tapping fingertips together) Did ya miss me?