The Book of Days Chapter 34: Tumble to The End, a sailor moon fanfic

Dear Reader,

This is another really short chapter. And here are some notes just in case someone doesn't see the connection.

The word Coda can mean one of two things: 'Tumble' and 'The End'. Lone Warrior2 changed it to Kota, but it still means the same thing. You'll see later what I mean.

I do not own Sailor Moon by Naoko Takeuchi

I do not own Down With The Sickness by Disturbed.

I do not own Sailor Kota who belongs to Lone Warrior2

I do not own Kay who belongs to Irvine659.

To Irvine659: Thanks for the reviews but you should really finish reading the other chapters instead of skipping ahead, naughty boy. And you really shouldn't be reading fanfiction in class... xsweatdropx...Oh well... I shouldn't be talking I do the same thing...

To my other reviewers, thank you, thank you you are too cool! I love you all..

To my friends, I love you too and I await kidnapping.

Stay safe
Stay healthy
Sincerely,

Starr

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It was the dreams he missed the most. The dreams of being by her side forever. The dreams of knowing that she was safe. The dreams of the future they would have together. Together forever. Side by side. All of those things were gone. Chased away by the darkness. But the thing he still had were dreams. The instant he would fall unconscious his dreams would come to him and wrap up, safe and warm and he would dream. Dream of her. By his side. The way she looked as she danced in the ring. The way the ribbons would twist around her body. The way she looked when she had finished a hard maneuver. The way she looked when she was sleeping. Sometimes he could almost believe he was next to her, breathing in her scent, hearing her voice. But then he would be smacked into wakefulness and the torturous ordeal of simply surviving would begin again. He didn't know how many days had passed. Many. Few. It didn't matter. He didn't know if it was night or day. It was dark wherever he was. And he was alone in the darkness. Whatever they were doing to him was slowly ripping him apart. Whatever they were doing to him wasn't working. That much he knew. He had witnessed this happen before. And it had taken so little time for the change to take place. Why was it taking so long? He knew. He knew and he wasn't telling. All he had to do was survive. Survive for as long as possible. No reason other than to keep them from turning him. If they turned him he would kill her. He didn't want to kill her. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted her alive. He wanted her happy and alive. So he defied them. He defied until he would fall unconscious and dream of her. And when he woke his resolve would be just as strong as it was before. Because she had been with him in that short time he had been asleep. He praised Morpheus with every breath and prayed that he would keep dreaming of her. That it would continue to make him strong. In his dreams he saw her hair. Soft and warm and beautiful. In his dreams he could smell her. Warm and intoxicating. In his dreams he could hear her voice. Comforting and compelling. In his dreams he could feel her skin, smooth and pale and warm. So warm. Unlike this cold that made his bones hurt. Everything hurt. And then he would wake up and it would begin all over again.

Do you feel that? The voice inside would ask him, Do you feel that? It hurts doesn't it? It will stop hurting if you just let go. Just let go and the pain will stop.

I like the pain.

Masochist.

Thank you.

You will break. You know you'll break. Just let it go and it will feel so good.

No thanks, I'm fine.

Liar.

They had been trying to get him through mind manipulation for days. It wasn't working. He would contradict their every suggestion. It was interesting, but the voice hurt his head. Gave him splitting headaches. Made him want to scream because he knew that voice. He knew that voice so well because it was his voice. His voice saying all those horrible things.

That isn't me. You aren't me. You just have my voice.

You're wrong. I am you. I am the you with no inhibitions. I am the real you.

No, you're not.

I am... You know I am... Look harder...

Terror. It was a feeling he had never truly experienced before. At least not to this intensity. And he couldn't look away because it was himself. It was him. And he hated it.

NO!

You can't escape me... You never can... Because I am you...

Loathing. A wave so intense it caused him to reel. An echo of hatred so deep that it was almost unbearable. He could feel his walls being torn down. Could feel his strength being sapped away. Could feel his memories and dreams being torn from his grasp. But there was a knowledge deep inside. It was the tiny light in the sea of darkness. And it kept him strong.

You may be me... But I will never be you...

Hm. You cannot escape. Slowly but surely the changes are happening. Just let it go. Give it over. Let us take away your pain. The mistress wants it. The mistress will have it one way or another.

You are a disease...

Thank you. And I am spreading. Why don't you just let it go? You will feel so much better.

I'm feeling pretty good now, thanks.

Don't deny what you're feeling.

You think I am?

I know you are...

Smartass...

This wonderful sickness... It will make you strong...

In that I agree...

Ah, the change has begun it seems...

You bet...

Are you ready to give it up to the mistress yet?

He could feel the changes. But what this twisted inner self refused to realize was that the change was only physical. He could feel the twisting of his flesh, the sickening feeling of bones and skin becoming undone. The sizzle of his blood turning to acid. The strange burning sensation in his eye. The pulling sensation at his back. He could feel himself getting stronger. Time to escape. Time to protect her dreams for his own had long since died.

Take me to the mistress... I long to see her face...

The only mistress he had was, hopefully long gone and safe with Sailor Miranda... But they didn't have to know that... There was a sudden rush of alien emotion. He had been right to guess that it hadn't been himself in his head talking to himself. There was movement. Then there was light. It didn't hurt his eyes the way normal light did. It was as if there had always been light and he just hadn't noticed it. He did notice the room he was in. It was the old armory. Where he and she had hidden in. Where he had taken a katana to fight a small army with. It was with a sense of pride that he remembered how many he had taken down before they had finally overwhelmed him. He was being moved. There was movement. He looked around and choked on a gasp. The creature in front of him had once been a fellow acrobat. Now it was a thing of wings and fangs and claws and mindless obedience. The brown-grey eyes were missing a vital spark. It was all he could do not to breath the word. Heartless.

A long, long time ago there had been a study conducted by a scientist named Ansem. He had studied the Heartless so deeply that he had become one himself. But the theory was that those without hearts could still live, but it would be a tainted life. All of their beleifs would become inverted. Twisted around. To them what was good, would become evil. Those they loved they would hate. A simple ying-yang movement. But the theory only held true for those who had their hearts stolen. No one said anything about those who freely gave their hearts away.

If I survive this whole experience I swear I'm going to write a book on it...

He couldn't help that thought. It popped out before he could stop it. But the presence in his mind took no notice and for that he was greatful.

"Come on." The now-heartless acrobat said, "The mistress waits..." It was painful to listen to the voice of someone he had known, still the same and yet so different. He stood up and almost fell. He felt unbalanced. As if one half of his body was... bigger... than it should have been. One leg felt shorter than the other. His arm felt strange. As if there were fingers missing, only not. The pull on his shoulder blades made him roll his shoulders forward and the pull lessened. He knew what it was. Just looking at this former acrobat it was obvious what had happened. But he wasn't ready to accept it. Not yet. It took him a moment to get used to walking. He kept his gaze straight ahead. He wasn't ready to look down at his hands. Wasn't ready to see how much he had changed.

A small shelter had been erected some distance away from the armory-turned-dungeon. As they drew closer he could see a throne had been set up. A feeling like rage filled him. It was the throne of the Queen of Tumble. But it was not the Queen that sat upon it. He knew who sat upon the throne before he got there. The betrayer. Kota's cousin. They had played together as children. But had grown apart as he and Kota had grown closer. From the look on her face she hadn't recognized him. He had changed quite a bit since they had last seen each other.

"A prisoner to view his queen, Mistress..." His guide said, bowing low. Kay knelt and felt his head fill with a mindless loathing. He knelt before her and such hate filled him that he almost saw red. It was interesting, watching himself feel all of those hateful things. It was disturbing. Never before had he felt such hate. But it was justified. He knelt before her.

"So, you are prepared to become my Heartless?" She asked. He kept his head bowed and said nothing. He took his silence for agreement.

"Great rewards shall be yours..." She said, "Look into my eyes and give me your heart..." He looked up. Her eyes were just as he remembered them. Dark brown. So much like her eyes. At first they were triumphant, but soon became confused and frustrated.

"Where is it!" She demanded, "Where is your heart! Give it to me!" And for the first time since the attack he smiled.

"Having trouble finding what is not there, my lady?" He asked innocently. Her eyes became angry and she grabbed him by the throat. Her touch burned into his skin. He tasted blood in his mouth. But still he smiled.

"Where is it!" She demanded, "You will give it to me!" He choked on a laugh. She snorted in disgust.

"Hold him down." She commanded, "He is trying to shield from me... I will have his heart." Hands grabbed him and pinned him to the ground. She stradled his waist and placed her hands on his chest. He screamed. It was as if her fingers were digging into his flesh and pulling him apart.

"Where is it!" She screeched. He could feel himself falling under her will. She would find his heart. He couldn't let that happen.

"It is in her hands." He answered.

"Where!"

"My heart is in her hands..." He answered.

"Whose!"

"My, love."

"Whose!"

"Mylove!"

"Tell me! Who holds your heart!" It was too much. Her voice compelled him in ways he didn't understand. With the last of his will power he screamed.

"MY HEART LIES WITH TUMBLE!" And as the last of his sanity began to fray he smiled. It was the truth. Tumble held his heart. The heart of Tumble survived. And because his heart was with the heart of Tumble, it always would.

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He didn't remember what happened next. It was all a blur of screams and pain and running. He remembered the feel of a soft throat between his teeth. But it wasn't her throat. He remembered the feel of flesh parting beneath his claws. But it wasn't her flesh. He remembered hunting for her. He remembered the feeling of power. Then there was the feeling of freedom. The delicious joy of flight. But it was a different feeling of flight than he was used to. No longer a free fall from a great height, knowing that if someone or something didn't catch you, there would be pain. The breeze was crisp, though reeking of death and pain and blood and smoke. There was a moment of awareness, where he was standing by the Stargate, dialing. Then there was the feeling of stars shooting past him. The next thing he remembered was falling from a great height, with nothing to catch him. Then there was pain. Then the only thing that was left, was instinct and a fierce, unshakable joy. He was free. He was FREE! And it didn't matter that he was changed beyond recognition. It didn't matter that he was no longer human. It didn't matter that he was a monster. It didn't matter that he no longer possessed a heart. He was free. And with that freedom he would avenge all the wrongs that had been placed upon him. He would fight, he would kill, he would die. Just so that this feeling in his chest. This memory of a beautiful image. This powerful, compelling urge to protect the beautiful image, would be appeased. And he flew. He knew not where, just so long as he was moving. All was right with his life when he was moving. He knew that she was somewhere. Out there. And he would find her.

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Do you feel that?

Shit

Drowning deep in my sea of loathing
Broken
Your servant I kneel

Will you give it to me?

It seems what's left of my human side
Is slowly changing
In me

Will you give it to me?

Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes

Oh no, there is no turning back now

You've woken up the demon
In me

Get up, come on, get down with the sickness
Get up, come on, get down with the sickness
Get up, come on, get down with the sickness
Open up your hate and let it flow into me

You mother get up, come on, get down with the sickness
You fucker, get up, come on, get down with the sickness
Madness is the gift, that has been given to me

I can see inside you the sickness is rising
Don't try to deny what you
Feel
Will you give it to me?
It seems that all that was good has died and is decaying
In me
Will you give it to me?
It seems you're having some trouble in dealing with these changes
Living with these changes

Oh no, the world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon
In me
And when I dream
And when I dream
And when I dream
And when I dream

Get up, come on, get down with the sickness
Get up, come on get down with the sickness
Get up, come on get down with the sickness
Open up your hate and let it flow into me

You mother get up, come on, get down with the sickness
You fucker get up, come on, get down with the sickness
Madness is the gift that has now come over me