Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon so please refrain from suing me for writing fan fiction. Thanks and enjoy!
Within Dreams—Chapter 8
Vitriol stormed through the corridors of Malign's web-like system of passages. She was in a passageway she knew particularly well; the one that led to the dungeons. The dungeon usually didn't have any occupants and it was a favorite place of refuge for Vitriol from Malign's wrath, or just for being alone in. But the rare times it did hold somebody prisoner were times she used to vent anger. Intense anger.
It was an anger she kept bottled up inside, an anger that multiplied every day. It was and anger that was fed by life itself and thrived on strong emotions. And it was an anger she had to get rid of. Some of it had been released by her fight with Rea, but then again, the fight also served to intensify what remained until it was like a pressure inside her, making her feel as though she would explode at any second.
Few indeed were her chances of being able to release the anger. She could not harm Malign or any of his servants—the people she saw every day. But she could easily harm a prisoner.
Vitriol pulled open the heavy door of the dungeon and her lips twitched to form just the slightest smile. Soon all the pent-up emotions would be out of her system and she would feel as though she could live once again. Yes, soon it would be over.
Slowly and purposely, she approached the prisoner, a young boy. In the back of her mind, a tiny voice was wailing: "don't do this! He's defenseless as he is!" But that voice was silenced by the intensity of her raw emotions.
She stood by the boy's side. He was lying on his back on the hard, cold floor of the dungeon, trembling and every now and then moaning. His back had deep slashes across it and his dark brown hair was matted against his head. Vitriol knew he'd been poisoned, that he was weak and vulnerable. But that anger didn't have compassion. That anger was what controlled her. And what destroyed her, made her a slave to Malign.
Should I wake
him for this? She wondered,
pondering whether it made a difference. The malicious voice of the uncontrollable rage shrieked: "yes! Wake him! It is no fun to not
enjoy the screams of your victim!"
With a flick of her hand,
Vitriol woke the boy, but only enough for him to be able to see what was
happening. The poison taxed him of his
strength and energy, making it impossible for him to move away.
He looked up at Vitriol, and she felt her
heart wrench. His eyes were full of so
many emotions: fear, pain, pleading, worry…all were present in this young boy's
eyes. For one brief moment, the small
voice was screaming: "you can't do
it! You can't do this to him!" But
then that rage, that irresistible, driving rage was back.
She began forming a small ball of bright
yellow energy in her hand when the boy whispered: "Kari…where…?"
Again, Vitriol felt her heart wrench. He was in pain and imprisoned with the enemies and yet he was worried for somebody other than himself. You don't want to do this. You have to, she reminded herself. With that, she flung the ball of energy at the boy.
It flew through the room and smashed into him, exploding on contact and sending him hurtling across the room and into the stone wall. Vitriol felt a sense of pleasure at seeing him suffer, feeling the anger dissipating from her system. It was like a weight had been resting on her head and now it was removed. But there was still more anger left.
The boy moaned miserably, too weak to do anything else. Again, the hot anger flashed through Vitriol, driving her to levitate a long whip across the room to her side. She took her time examining it, taking in just how long it was and running her hands over the glass that was attached to the end of it.
She flicked her wrist and smiled as the whip snapped, the glass deeply cutting the boy across his face. She whipped again, pulling the glass across his chest and savoring the choked screams with the deepest sense of delight.
Eventually, she tired of using the whip and tossed it aside. The boy was gasping for breath and he demanded a third time: "Kari…?"
And now Vitriol knew the perfect way to destroy him emotionally. It was so simple. So delightfully simple. "No. Kari's not safe. She is dead," she smugly stated. She watched as the boy's eyes grew watery and dull.
"No…Kari…" he whispered before he was once again unconscious….
~*~
Mrs. Kamiya was still holding Kari's hand when she heard Tai shout: "No! Kari!"
She turned to see her son, now thrashing wildly in the bed, chest heaving with uncontrollable sobs. But what scared her the most was the blood. Red blood stained the sheets of his white hospital bed.
What is going on? She wondered. She was at a loss of what to do. She was beyond panic. Mrs. Kamiya was now just scared. Scared for the fate of her children. It was a fear that parents wish they never have to face and here she was, not only facing it, but being flung into it.
She felt worse than bad or miserable. There was no word to describe her deep grief. She sat down, too shocked at what was happening even to ring for help.
Come back to me, my angels, my babies. Please, come back, Mrs. Kamiya silently pleaded….
~*~
Joe stiffened at the sound of breathing behind him. Very slowly, he turned…only to face the huge man that had jumped from his window. The man was smiling maniacally and Joe saw the knife, glinting in the early morning sunlight for an instant and comprehended what was happening all in the time it takes to blink an eye.
He moved away from the man, just as the knife plunged downward, grazing his shoulder and drawing blood. Luckily, he had moved out of the way before he'd been stabbed through the head.
"I will kill you!" the man roared as he leaped at Joe.
Joe backed away, but was met only with the edge of the roof. There was nowhere to go…. Except….
The man was surprised when Joe suddenly bolted forward, directly into him. The man grunted and was knocked off his feet and Joe ran past him, toward the door that led to the inside of the building from the roof.
Please be unlocked, please be unlocked…Joe silently pleaded. It was locked. The man was back on his feet again now and Joe desperately pounded on the door, hoping against hope that somebody would hear him and let him in.
The man came from behind and snagged hold of Joe by his hair, forcing him away from the door. Joe winced as the man raised the knife…and then dropped his arm to his side, a faint smile playing on his face.
"Didn't believe me, did you boy?" he rasped, waving the knife under Joe's nose. "Didn't believe me…too bad. You know…I might give you another chance. You'd like another chance, wouldn't you?"
Joe vigorously nodded as he felt the knife press against his neck.
"You'll believe me this time, won't you?"
Again, Joe nodded.
"What was that? Couldn't hear you," the man chuckled.
Joe cried out in surprise and pain as he felt the blade cut into his left cheek.
"You want another chance, don't you?"
"Yes," Joe whispered, his throat like sandpaper.
"Louder!" The man made another slit on Joe's cheek.
"Yes! Yes!" Joe cried, as he felt the blood dripping down his face.
"You'll believe me now, won't you?"
Joe felt the blade on his other cheek and screamed: "yes!" He relaxed as the blade was withdrawn from his face.
"Fine. One more chance. But if you don't take me seriously, you'll get something more serious than a bleeding cheek."
With those final words, the man turned and leaped from the top of the building, leaving Joe to fall in a trembling heap where he had been standing.