Part Thirteen Of Knight of the Wizardmon: Just Another Night In.. DigiHell
(Myotismon's Castle--The Past)
He'd been tending a wounded soldier, a silvery Dragomon with a damaged wing, when Demidevimon flew unannounced into the room which the wizard had turned into a private 'recovery ward' for those of the Nightmare Army who'd sought his skills at healing. The Data grimaced. So far, Myotismon had not said anything either yea nor nay about his off-duty choice of occupation since learning of it. He'd hoped that by helping the other soldiers, he'd alleviated any suspicions of the vampire's, but apparently not.. Now, the Champion wondered if the Rookie had been sent here under orders to stop the practice. Myotismon was not known for his altruism towards others.
But then, neither was Wizardmon.
Oh, yes, the vampire had undoubtedly grown suspicious by now!
"Wizardmon!"
Bios, how he disliked that little rat's voice.
The Data sighed, trying not to lose his concentration. "A moment."
Laying a glowing hand on the broken wing of the dragomon, Wizardmon sent energy into the fracture, causing the cartilage to knit together as if it had never been ruptured---then hurriedly got out of the way. The sinuous creature spread its wings in response, sending the spherical rodent digimon crashing into the far wall at the resultant blast of wind created. It then departed the room without a glance back at either of the other digimon
Wizardmon grinned from behind his cowl as he watched the Rookie peel itself from the brickwork and dizzedly rub its head. It didn't bother him that he rarely received a thank you for his unauthorized services from those he helped. Giving comfort to the assorted Virals and Datas that had aligned themselves with the vampire was not the reason he was doing this. No, healing them was only a cover: a plausible excuse for being near Gatomon, who-- thanks to Myotismon's assignments---was his most frequent customer. He liked to think that it was his very presence that helped to soothe her when she was in pain. Certainly, he used the opportunities to try to break through the Ultimates amnesia spell. So far with little luck.
It would have been nice if she'd remember him like he remembered their friendship. But that would come someday. He was patient. And besides, what else was there for him to do but this? He did as he was told, but everyone knew he was a lackluster fighter. Mostly, he was used in reconnaisance work to gather information about Myotismon's enemies. He was good at that, though Myotismon never trusted him with anything truly important. Heh. The vampire wasn't stupid. Unfortunately.
"You did that on purpose!" Demidevimon accused the wizard as his vision stopped doing the Mexican Jumping Bean Dance.
Wizardmon snickered. "Don't be absurd. Some of us just know when its prudent to get out of a stronger digimon's path."
The rat Rookie leered evilly at him. He and the Champion magic worker had been at odds since day one. Mostly because Demidevimon sensed he was interested in his rival for Myotismon's favor, Gatomon. He was also frustrated that the wizard never fell for his tricks.
Well, there was always a first time. And this first time was going to make up for all the rest!
"You think you're so smart, don't you? But Myotismon calls the shots here, Lace Face, and he doesn't like you any more than I do."
Wizardmon raised a glowing hand towards the Viral. "I think that bump may have scrambled your brain, Demidimwit. Shall I fix it for you?"
"You keep your mitts off'a me!" Demidevimon hastily backed out of the room to the relative 'safety' of the doorway. As he was now---at full power---the Champion could 'outgun' him in both offensive and defensive capabilities.
The demon man chuckled at the Rookie's fright, picking up his staff where he had laid it before assessing the dragomon's injury. "Go away, Demidevimon. Go torment some helpless creature that can't fight back. That way you'll stand a chance of not getting hurt yourself."
"You won't be laughing much longer, wizard. Myotismon wants to see you---pronto!" The animal virus leered at him. "In fact, you really shouldn't be hiding down here. Took me forever to track you down and gee---guess what? You're already late!"
"What?!"
"Heh heh. You know how he hates tardiness. Oh, yeah.. Wizardmon's in trouble! Wizardmon's in trouble!"
Cursing the onerous creature, Wizardmon flew past Demidevimon at top speed, the Rookie noisily flappping from behind him all the way to the throne room: "Oh, he's late, he's late! For a VERY important date! He's late, he's late, he's late, he's late---he's late, he's late, he's LATE!"
More than a little annoyed both with the malicious Virus' deceit and constant chatter, Wizardmon created a small thunderball and lobbed it behind him without even looking. There was the satisfying sound of a startled scream, then blessed silence as he at last came to the throne door. Two Bakemon immediately let him pass---not a good sign. It meant that Myotismon had indeed summoned him. Again, Wizardmon cursed the Rookie for delaying in giving him the message.
Seeing Myotismon sitting at the throne while smiling at two square boxes, the ghostly Phantomon lazily floating at his side, Wizardmon bowed deeply--- ready to explain his lateness in arriving. Instead of anger, though, he sensed great anticipation coming from the vampire.
Also not a good sign. An angry Myotismon was easier to predict. It usually ended in a beating and a warning. An anticipatory Myotismon was a wild card.
"You wished to see me, Lord Myotismon?"
"So at last you've decide to answer my summons? Myotismon chuckled as a slightly fried Demidevimon tottered into the throne room. "I'll have to decide on your punishment another time. For now, I have a little chore for you." He gestured at two boxes at his feet, and a slim dagger of about two-feet in length slid along the floor to stop between the items.
Warily, Wizardmon approached them.
They were absolutely identical lidded boxes of light posterboard only half a meter high, except that one was plain white and the other had tiny hearts printed on it.
The bemused Data looked up, waiting for more instructions. Was he now to act as a delivery mon? But why give him a knife? Myotismon knew he was proficient enough in magic to protect himself, but not terribly well versed in handling metallic weaponry.
"It's a simple thing really. I'm sure even one of your limited power can handle it." Myotismon said. "I want you to take up my dagger and thrust it deep into one of the boxes."
The wizard cocked his head. That was it?
The Ultimate virus began impatiently rapping his fingers against his chairs arm rest. "Well? Come, Wizardmon.. I haven't got all day---and neither have you. I give you but two minutes to decide on which box to puncture. After that, I will give the honor to Demidevimon if you fail in this task."
Hesitantly, Wizardmon picked up the dagger and hefted it. What was the vampire playing at? But he sensed no danger to himself---only the eager gleam in the three Virals' eyes. So... there was more to this than met the eye. But what?"
"Would it hurry your decision if I gave you a taste of my Crimson Lighting, soldier?" the Ultimate snorted at him.
Frowning, Wizardmon raised the dagger and prepared to use it on the box to his right. If one of these cartons was going to end up with an air hole anyway, he might as well spare himself the bite of Myotismon's lash.
"Oh...by the way, Wizardmon?"
The Data paused and looked up to see the vampire smiled pleasantly down at him. A block of ice settled in his stomach at the sight.
"Did I neglect to mention that Gatomon may be catnapping in one of these?"
Heh? Returning his gaze to the box at his feet, Wizardmon sought for a sense of his friend. Nothing. Nor from the other one either.
"Yes, it seems she fell victim to Demidevimon's Dart attack--an accident, he says--and he's placed her into one of these pretty boxes to sleep it off. I hope that doesn't affect your choice?" The monster's grin widened as the smaller mon gave a little choking noise and shot the Rookie a deadly glare.
Demidevimon flew closer to Myotismon and Phantomon before he shrugged his wings. "Hey, did I do that? Guess I did! Oh, well!"
The Champion took a step forward, green eyes promising dire consequences to the bat-winged rat. Demidevimon quickly ducked behind Phantomon. "Gee, Wiz, remember the time, will ya?! Or do I get to take a 'stab' at this assassinat...oh, excuse me---this 'assignment'?"
"Why, you!" He powered up his hands.
"Hey--Hey! Do you really have the luxury for that?" Demidevimon reminded him. "Tick tock, tick tock... said the clock!"
That brought the wizard up short.
Myotismon was not likely to let him delete Demidevimon. At least, not until this was over with. He didn't need mental powers to sense that the vampire was enjoying watching his predicrament: the Virus was half out of his chair and staring at him unceasingly.
And they could be lying. He still could not sense Gatomon's presence within the room.
Of course, if she was unconscious, then he wouldn't.
The Data raised the dagger over the left box.
Myotismon would not let his best commander be killed just to torture him.
But Demidevimon was constantly trying to get promoted. He'd shed no tears over Gatomon's death. And if it was Wizardmon who actually struck the blow, then the Rat Demon might be held blameless.
Ah, Bios! He couldn't do this!
Sweating profusely, the Data sunk to his knees and shot pleading eyes at the Rookie. "Which one, Demidevimon? Left? Right? Tell me which one she is in and I will spend all my free time as your personal servant."
Demidevimon's mouth grinned so widely it threatened to leave the boundaries of his face altogether. He flew up to Myotismon's face. "Can I tell him, Oh Bloodthirsty one? Huh? Can I tell him?"
Myotismon smiled indulgently. "Can you?"
The digimon considered the question. "Nope!" He turned back to face the wilted Champion, orange eyes gleaming with pure malice, "Sorry, Wiz--tempting offer, but I just can't do it. However, I can take that cat sticker off your hands.." He swooped down to seize the dagger. With a growl, Wizardmon rose up and almost struck him with it, making the Rookie retreat.
"NO!"
Trembling, the wizard repositioned himself to drive the weapon into the left box, no doubt in his mind that Demidevimon wished his friend's deletion. At least with him, Gatomon stood a 50/50 percent chance of surviving this ordeal. His eyes glanced to the right box, then back to the one he was poised to mangle, desperately searching for a sign of the cat's presence. A glimmer. Something!
But still there was nothing and he was running out of time.
Two choices. But which of these 50/50 options was the right one to choose?
Wizardmon was now shaking so much he could barely hold unto the hilt. Rivers of sweat was running off of him in such quantity that he was in danger of slipping on it and falling on the floor. He brought up his other hand to help steady his grip on the knife.
Myotismon was practically out of his seat, a bit of drool trickling down his chin from his fangs. "Times up, Wizardmon. Strike now or forfeit the choice to Demidevimon! Which is it to be?"
Which indeed! Left? Right? Oh, Matrix! Oh, BIOS! Ah---DigiHell!
With a yell of pure anguish, Wizardmon thrust the blade deep into the box at his left.
And felt it strike something within.
Seconds later, a reddish stain appeared at one corner of the box as a scarlet liquid began seeping out onto the stonework.
Wizardmon stared at the growing puddle in absolute horror, unable to move as the shock turned his muscles into the consistency of water.
He'd killed her! He'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd kill--
Large hands seized and lifted him away from the spreading redness. There was a flurry as several bats descended upon him, ripping away the material from his right shoulder until it was bared. He was oblivious to it, eyes locked on the pool of scarlet below. Nor did he react when twin fangs implanted themslves into his exposed flesh, ripping open the skin as if it was just another garment in the way. A tongue greedily lapped at the flowing blood, the vampire making sounds of pure pleasure as he kept the liquid flowing with extra nips here an there.
"..mmm.. your blood...ambrosia......so much terror.... such wonderful fear and anguish."
Wizardmon felt his lower body solidify more and more as his energy was licked away by Myostismon's eager tongue. Dizziness washed over him as his departing power made him weak. He was nearing complete draining. Already he felt twice as heavy as before.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He'd murdered his one, true friend. She'd saved him---and he'd killed her in return. Deletion would be welcome now. It was all he deserved for failing her so badly.
The tongue and fangs retracted as the blood flow nearly ceased, Myotismon's voice chuckling aloud.
"Oh, that was so tasty! I really must thank you, Phantomon, for suggesting this little play---it improved the flavor tenfold."
"Thank you, master," Phantomon bowed. "I knew you'd enjoy it."
And you, Demidevimon. You also performed your task well---for once. I'm surprised."
"Your Evilness," the Rookie grinned. "It was a pleasure. Can we show him now? Can we? Can we, huh, huh?" The rat flew around the Ultimate in dizzying circles. "I wanna see his face when we show him the 'fruit of his labor'! Heh, hehe, heh."
"Very good, Demidevimon. You may open the boxes."
While DeviDemon gabbed the dagger's hilt with his talons and pulled, Myotismon held his limp captive in a position so he could watch too.
No! No! He didn't want to see this! He wasn't going to look at her mangled remains! Wizardmon squeezed his eyes shut as both lid and sword came away Why couldn't they just delete him? End this nightmare!
"Ooo... Bullseye!" The Rookie cackled. Too bad all the juice has pretty much run out though. I'd been saving this baby to make a fruit salad with!"
Huh? Fruit salad?
Wizardmon cracked an eye open. Inside the box was only the gooey remains of an overly ripe red berry melon---the pinkish sides of which were utterly ruptured.
"At least this one's still okay."
Demidevimon unceremoniously kicked open the lid on the undamaged box to reveal a second of the roundish fruits.
The Data groaned in relief. It had all been a trick! A horribly nasty trick! Gatomon had never been in any danger. But he'd been left in the condition of a worn out dish rag consigned to the trash pile!
Snickering, Myotismon let him fall to the ground where crumpled into a heap.
"A reward, Demidevimon. You may have him for the rest of the night. Assuming you can manage to drag him back to your room. He seems to have gained some weight."
"Yippee!" the Rookie crowed, bouncing on his clawed feet in glee, "Thank you, Oh Magnani--"
"Just remember, that if you permanetly damage him, I will see to it you are turned into a handbag for Lady Devimon."
"Uh... Right.. handbag."
Snagging the exhausted Champion by the back, the Rookie tugging his prize along as he slowly moved him outside into the hallway. "Well, Wizardmon, you did say I should torment someone who couldn't fight back! Oh, we're going to have such fun together! Or rather, hehe heh---I am! And... oh, sludge....I..eeergh!"--the rookie panted as he gave another fierce tug before collapsing on the wizard's chest. "You HAVE been laying on the junk food, haven't you?" he growled in accusation. "Get up, you miniaturized whammon! I can't drag your carcass all the way to my playroom!"
"Go.. suck.. sludge fumes.." Wizardmon retorted with all the force he could muster.
"Why you--!"
"Demidevimon!"
"Errrgh! WHAT?!" the Rookie growled as he spun around to confront the intruder. "I'm a bit busy---Gatomon?! Er...um... nice to see you."
The white cat's striped tail twitched in annoyance as she studied the rat under hooded lids, looking for all the world as if she was contemplating how he would taste--and not finding the thought terribly savory.
"You're scheduled for guard duty at the main gate. Why aren't you at your post?"
"That's tommorrow. Bakemon is on duty today."
"Not according to MY schedule. Now get to your post before I use you as one---for scratching!" She raised one of her green gloves theateningly at him.
Demidevimon took one look at the dark talons affixed to it and flew off towards the main gate, grumbling and mumbling all the way.
Snorting in disgust at the retreating Rookie's back, Gatomon went over to stand besides her fellow Champion and favorite underling. Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone. She couldn't understand her feelings for him herself, let alone explain them to anyone else. Besides, if he knew she secretly liked him, he'd just take advantage of her weakness. That was why she took great pains to treat him as harshly as any of the others under her command.
Hiding your weaknesses was a necessary survival skill.
Oh, but those green eyes tested her resolve, though! So gentle when they looked upon her. He never hid his devotion when Myotismon and Phantomon weren't around to torment him for it.
Fool!
Gatomon's breath caught as she saw the misty blue and red of his torn shoulder under the shreds of the jumpsuit. And his face---so pale!---it made the jade of his eyes stand out even more when he opened them and tried to focus on her. The puncture wounds explained why he hadn't shooed Demidevimon away himself. Myotismon's work. Her master had nearly drained the wizardmon dry! She blinked back a sudden excess of moisture from her deep azure eyes. "You're hurt."
"Yes. But you.. are not." He smiled under the cowl.
Compassion shone from her as the cat reached forward with her paw to brush his hair off of his face, mouth trembling just a tiny bit as the stubborn locks insisted on moving right back again.
"Your hat..?"
The turned Vaccine knew how he hated to be seen without his hat. It was almost always affixed to his head, just as he never removed the cowl over his mouth.
"In.. the throne.. room.. but," he whispered brokenly.
"I'll be right back."
"No---its all right--I.." A coughing spasm seized him as he tried to call her back. He struggled to control it as quickly as possible, but she was already gone inside Myotismon's chamber. When she returned, she held his battered hat firmly in one paw and his staff in the other, but her expression had hardened again.
"Here", she threw the hat and staff onto his chest. "Myotismon says that you can have the next night off as he was very pleased with you. However, you'd better get back to your own room to recover before Demidevimon's guard duty is over, or you'll be spending your free time with him."
Wizrdmon felt his heart become as heavy as the rest of him. She was gone again--hidden from his eyes. Submerged behind the alternate personality Myotismon had put on her. He sighed tiredly. "Thank you Gatomon, for retreiving my hat and staff... And for the warning. I will try to get back in time."
She turned to walk away, leaving him to crawl along the cold stones of the hallway towards the refuge of his room. They both knew he'd never make it in his condition.
"Gatomon?" Wizardmon asked in a weak voice.
The cat stopped, but did not turn around. "What is it?"
"I'm glad you're all right."
The tail twitched a little.
"Hurry, Wizardmon. You have only a quarter hour."
He didn't see her again for several days after that. But ten minutes after she'd left, two Bakemon silently appeared at his side and wordlessly helped him get to safety. It was too much to be a coincidence. Bakemon didn't put themselves out unless ordered to. And a good thing, as he'd never have made it on his own power before Demidevimon could come looking to claim his hide.
Gatomon had saved him once again.
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(Myotismon's Castle--The Past)
He'd been tending a wounded soldier, a silvery Dragomon with a damaged wing, when Demidevimon flew unannounced into the room which the wizard had turned into a private 'recovery ward' for those of the Nightmare Army who'd sought his skills at healing. The Data grimaced. So far, Myotismon had not said anything either yea nor nay about his off-duty choice of occupation since learning of it. He'd hoped that by helping the other soldiers, he'd alleviated any suspicions of the vampire's, but apparently not.. Now, the Champion wondered if the Rookie had been sent here under orders to stop the practice. Myotismon was not known for his altruism towards others.
But then, neither was Wizardmon.
Oh, yes, the vampire had undoubtedly grown suspicious by now!
"Wizardmon!"
Bios, how he disliked that little rat's voice.
The Data sighed, trying not to lose his concentration. "A moment."
Laying a glowing hand on the broken wing of the dragomon, Wizardmon sent energy into the fracture, causing the cartilage to knit together as if it had never been ruptured---then hurriedly got out of the way. The sinuous creature spread its wings in response, sending the spherical rodent digimon crashing into the far wall at the resultant blast of wind created. It then departed the room without a glance back at either of the other digimon
Wizardmon grinned from behind his cowl as he watched the Rookie peel itself from the brickwork and dizzedly rub its head. It didn't bother him that he rarely received a thank you for his unauthorized services from those he helped. Giving comfort to the assorted Virals and Datas that had aligned themselves with the vampire was not the reason he was doing this. No, healing them was only a cover: a plausible excuse for being near Gatomon, who-- thanks to Myotismon's assignments---was his most frequent customer. He liked to think that it was his very presence that helped to soothe her when she was in pain. Certainly, he used the opportunities to try to break through the Ultimates amnesia spell. So far with little luck.
It would have been nice if she'd remember him like he remembered their friendship. But that would come someday. He was patient. And besides, what else was there for him to do but this? He did as he was told, but everyone knew he was a lackluster fighter. Mostly, he was used in reconnaisance work to gather information about Myotismon's enemies. He was good at that, though Myotismon never trusted him with anything truly important. Heh. The vampire wasn't stupid. Unfortunately.
"You did that on purpose!" Demidevimon accused the wizard as his vision stopped doing the Mexican Jumping Bean Dance.
Wizardmon snickered. "Don't be absurd. Some of us just know when its prudent to get out of a stronger digimon's path."
The rat Rookie leered evilly at him. He and the Champion magic worker had been at odds since day one. Mostly because Demidevimon sensed he was interested in his rival for Myotismon's favor, Gatomon. He was also frustrated that the wizard never fell for his tricks.
Well, there was always a first time. And this first time was going to make up for all the rest!
"You think you're so smart, don't you? But Myotismon calls the shots here, Lace Face, and he doesn't like you any more than I do."
Wizardmon raised a glowing hand towards the Viral. "I think that bump may have scrambled your brain, Demidimwit. Shall I fix it for you?"
"You keep your mitts off'a me!" Demidevimon hastily backed out of the room to the relative 'safety' of the doorway. As he was now---at full power---the Champion could 'outgun' him in both offensive and defensive capabilities.
The demon man chuckled at the Rookie's fright, picking up his staff where he had laid it before assessing the dragomon's injury. "Go away, Demidevimon. Go torment some helpless creature that can't fight back. That way you'll stand a chance of not getting hurt yourself."
"You won't be laughing much longer, wizard. Myotismon wants to see you---pronto!" The animal virus leered at him. "In fact, you really shouldn't be hiding down here. Took me forever to track you down and gee---guess what? You're already late!"
"What?!"
"Heh heh. You know how he hates tardiness. Oh, yeah.. Wizardmon's in trouble! Wizardmon's in trouble!"
Cursing the onerous creature, Wizardmon flew past Demidevimon at top speed, the Rookie noisily flappping from behind him all the way to the throne room: "Oh, he's late, he's late! For a VERY important date! He's late, he's late, he's late, he's late---he's late, he's late, he's LATE!"
More than a little annoyed both with the malicious Virus' deceit and constant chatter, Wizardmon created a small thunderball and lobbed it behind him without even looking. There was the satisfying sound of a startled scream, then blessed silence as he at last came to the throne door. Two Bakemon immediately let him pass---not a good sign. It meant that Myotismon had indeed summoned him. Again, Wizardmon cursed the Rookie for delaying in giving him the message.
Seeing Myotismon sitting at the throne while smiling at two square boxes, the ghostly Phantomon lazily floating at his side, Wizardmon bowed deeply--- ready to explain his lateness in arriving. Instead of anger, though, he sensed great anticipation coming from the vampire.
Also not a good sign. An angry Myotismon was easier to predict. It usually ended in a beating and a warning. An anticipatory Myotismon was a wild card.
"You wished to see me, Lord Myotismon?"
"So at last you've decide to answer my summons? Myotismon chuckled as a slightly fried Demidevimon tottered into the throne room. "I'll have to decide on your punishment another time. For now, I have a little chore for you." He gestured at two boxes at his feet, and a slim dagger of about two-feet in length slid along the floor to stop between the items.
Warily, Wizardmon approached them.
They were absolutely identical lidded boxes of light posterboard only half a meter high, except that one was plain white and the other had tiny hearts printed on it.
The bemused Data looked up, waiting for more instructions. Was he now to act as a delivery mon? But why give him a knife? Myotismon knew he was proficient enough in magic to protect himself, but not terribly well versed in handling metallic weaponry.
"It's a simple thing really. I'm sure even one of your limited power can handle it." Myotismon said. "I want you to take up my dagger and thrust it deep into one of the boxes."
The wizard cocked his head. That was it?
The Ultimate virus began impatiently rapping his fingers against his chairs arm rest. "Well? Come, Wizardmon.. I haven't got all day---and neither have you. I give you but two minutes to decide on which box to puncture. After that, I will give the honor to Demidevimon if you fail in this task."
Hesitantly, Wizardmon picked up the dagger and hefted it. What was the vampire playing at? But he sensed no danger to himself---only the eager gleam in the three Virals' eyes. So... there was more to this than met the eye. But what?"
"Would it hurry your decision if I gave you a taste of my Crimson Lighting, soldier?" the Ultimate snorted at him.
Frowning, Wizardmon raised the dagger and prepared to use it on the box to his right. If one of these cartons was going to end up with an air hole anyway, he might as well spare himself the bite of Myotismon's lash.
"Oh...by the way, Wizardmon?"
The Data paused and looked up to see the vampire smiled pleasantly down at him. A block of ice settled in his stomach at the sight.
"Did I neglect to mention that Gatomon may be catnapping in one of these?"
Heh? Returning his gaze to the box at his feet, Wizardmon sought for a sense of his friend. Nothing. Nor from the other one either.
"Yes, it seems she fell victim to Demidevimon's Dart attack--an accident, he says--and he's placed her into one of these pretty boxes to sleep it off. I hope that doesn't affect your choice?" The monster's grin widened as the smaller mon gave a little choking noise and shot the Rookie a deadly glare.
Demidevimon flew closer to Myotismon and Phantomon before he shrugged his wings. "Hey, did I do that? Guess I did! Oh, well!"
The Champion took a step forward, green eyes promising dire consequences to the bat-winged rat. Demidevimon quickly ducked behind Phantomon. "Gee, Wiz, remember the time, will ya?! Or do I get to take a 'stab' at this assassinat...oh, excuse me---this 'assignment'?"
"Why, you!" He powered up his hands.
"Hey--Hey! Do you really have the luxury for that?" Demidevimon reminded him. "Tick tock, tick tock... said the clock!"
That brought the wizard up short.
Myotismon was not likely to let him delete Demidevimon. At least, not until this was over with. He didn't need mental powers to sense that the vampire was enjoying watching his predicrament: the Virus was half out of his chair and staring at him unceasingly.
And they could be lying. He still could not sense Gatomon's presence within the room.
Of course, if she was unconscious, then he wouldn't.
The Data raised the dagger over the left box.
Myotismon would not let his best commander be killed just to torture him.
But Demidevimon was constantly trying to get promoted. He'd shed no tears over Gatomon's death. And if it was Wizardmon who actually struck the blow, then the Rat Demon might be held blameless.
Ah, Bios! He couldn't do this!
Sweating profusely, the Data sunk to his knees and shot pleading eyes at the Rookie. "Which one, Demidevimon? Left? Right? Tell me which one she is in and I will spend all my free time as your personal servant."
Demidevimon's mouth grinned so widely it threatened to leave the boundaries of his face altogether. He flew up to Myotismon's face. "Can I tell him, Oh Bloodthirsty one? Huh? Can I tell him?"
Myotismon smiled indulgently. "Can you?"
The digimon considered the question. "Nope!" He turned back to face the wilted Champion, orange eyes gleaming with pure malice, "Sorry, Wiz--tempting offer, but I just can't do it. However, I can take that cat sticker off your hands.." He swooped down to seize the dagger. With a growl, Wizardmon rose up and almost struck him with it, making the Rookie retreat.
"NO!"
Trembling, the wizard repositioned himself to drive the weapon into the left box, no doubt in his mind that Demidevimon wished his friend's deletion. At least with him, Gatomon stood a 50/50 percent chance of surviving this ordeal. His eyes glanced to the right box, then back to the one he was poised to mangle, desperately searching for a sign of the cat's presence. A glimmer. Something!
But still there was nothing and he was running out of time.
Two choices. But which of these 50/50 options was the right one to choose?
Wizardmon was now shaking so much he could barely hold unto the hilt. Rivers of sweat was running off of him in such quantity that he was in danger of slipping on it and falling on the floor. He brought up his other hand to help steady his grip on the knife.
Myotismon was practically out of his seat, a bit of drool trickling down his chin from his fangs. "Times up, Wizardmon. Strike now or forfeit the choice to Demidevimon! Which is it to be?"
Which indeed! Left? Right? Oh, Matrix! Oh, BIOS! Ah---DigiHell!
With a yell of pure anguish, Wizardmon thrust the blade deep into the box at his left.
And felt it strike something within.
Seconds later, a reddish stain appeared at one corner of the box as a scarlet liquid began seeping out onto the stonework.
Wizardmon stared at the growing puddle in absolute horror, unable to move as the shock turned his muscles into the consistency of water.
He'd killed her! He'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd killed her, he'd kill--
Large hands seized and lifted him away from the spreading redness. There was a flurry as several bats descended upon him, ripping away the material from his right shoulder until it was bared. He was oblivious to it, eyes locked on the pool of scarlet below. Nor did he react when twin fangs implanted themslves into his exposed flesh, ripping open the skin as if it was just another garment in the way. A tongue greedily lapped at the flowing blood, the vampire making sounds of pure pleasure as he kept the liquid flowing with extra nips here an there.
"..mmm.. your blood...ambrosia......so much terror.... such wonderful fear and anguish."
Wizardmon felt his lower body solidify more and more as his energy was licked away by Myostismon's eager tongue. Dizziness washed over him as his departing power made him weak. He was nearing complete draining. Already he felt twice as heavy as before.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He'd murdered his one, true friend. She'd saved him---and he'd killed her in return. Deletion would be welcome now. It was all he deserved for failing her so badly.
The tongue and fangs retracted as the blood flow nearly ceased, Myotismon's voice chuckling aloud.
"Oh, that was so tasty! I really must thank you, Phantomon, for suggesting this little play---it improved the flavor tenfold."
"Thank you, master," Phantomon bowed. "I knew you'd enjoy it."
And you, Demidevimon. You also performed your task well---for once. I'm surprised."
"Your Evilness," the Rookie grinned. "It was a pleasure. Can we show him now? Can we? Can we, huh, huh?" The rat flew around the Ultimate in dizzying circles. "I wanna see his face when we show him the 'fruit of his labor'! Heh, hehe, heh."
"Very good, Demidevimon. You may open the boxes."
While DeviDemon gabbed the dagger's hilt with his talons and pulled, Myotismon held his limp captive in a position so he could watch too.
No! No! He didn't want to see this! He wasn't going to look at her mangled remains! Wizardmon squeezed his eyes shut as both lid and sword came away Why couldn't they just delete him? End this nightmare!
"Ooo... Bullseye!" The Rookie cackled. Too bad all the juice has pretty much run out though. I'd been saving this baby to make a fruit salad with!"
Huh? Fruit salad?
Wizardmon cracked an eye open. Inside the box was only the gooey remains of an overly ripe red berry melon---the pinkish sides of which were utterly ruptured.
"At least this one's still okay."
Demidevimon unceremoniously kicked open the lid on the undamaged box to reveal a second of the roundish fruits.
The Data groaned in relief. It had all been a trick! A horribly nasty trick! Gatomon had never been in any danger. But he'd been left in the condition of a worn out dish rag consigned to the trash pile!
Snickering, Myotismon let him fall to the ground where crumpled into a heap.
"A reward, Demidevimon. You may have him for the rest of the night. Assuming you can manage to drag him back to your room. He seems to have gained some weight."
"Yippee!" the Rookie crowed, bouncing on his clawed feet in glee, "Thank you, Oh Magnani--"
"Just remember, that if you permanetly damage him, I will see to it you are turned into a handbag for Lady Devimon."
"Uh... Right.. handbag."
Snagging the exhausted Champion by the back, the Rookie tugging his prize along as he slowly moved him outside into the hallway. "Well, Wizardmon, you did say I should torment someone who couldn't fight back! Oh, we're going to have such fun together! Or rather, hehe heh---I am! And... oh, sludge....I..eeergh!"--the rookie panted as he gave another fierce tug before collapsing on the wizard's chest. "You HAVE been laying on the junk food, haven't you?" he growled in accusation. "Get up, you miniaturized whammon! I can't drag your carcass all the way to my playroom!"
"Go.. suck.. sludge fumes.." Wizardmon retorted with all the force he could muster.
"Why you--!"
"Demidevimon!"
"Errrgh! WHAT?!" the Rookie growled as he spun around to confront the intruder. "I'm a bit busy---Gatomon?! Er...um... nice to see you."
The white cat's striped tail twitched in annoyance as she studied the rat under hooded lids, looking for all the world as if she was contemplating how he would taste--and not finding the thought terribly savory.
"You're scheduled for guard duty at the main gate. Why aren't you at your post?"
"That's tommorrow. Bakemon is on duty today."
"Not according to MY schedule. Now get to your post before I use you as one---for scratching!" She raised one of her green gloves theateningly at him.
Demidevimon took one look at the dark talons affixed to it and flew off towards the main gate, grumbling and mumbling all the way.
Snorting in disgust at the retreating Rookie's back, Gatomon went over to stand besides her fellow Champion and favorite underling. Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone. She couldn't understand her feelings for him herself, let alone explain them to anyone else. Besides, if he knew she secretly liked him, he'd just take advantage of her weakness. That was why she took great pains to treat him as harshly as any of the others under her command.
Hiding your weaknesses was a necessary survival skill.
Oh, but those green eyes tested her resolve, though! So gentle when they looked upon her. He never hid his devotion when Myotismon and Phantomon weren't around to torment him for it.
Fool!
Gatomon's breath caught as she saw the misty blue and red of his torn shoulder under the shreds of the jumpsuit. And his face---so pale!---it made the jade of his eyes stand out even more when he opened them and tried to focus on her. The puncture wounds explained why he hadn't shooed Demidevimon away himself. Myotismon's work. Her master had nearly drained the wizardmon dry! She blinked back a sudden excess of moisture from her deep azure eyes. "You're hurt."
"Yes. But you.. are not." He smiled under the cowl.
Compassion shone from her as the cat reached forward with her paw to brush his hair off of his face, mouth trembling just a tiny bit as the stubborn locks insisted on moving right back again.
"Your hat..?"
The turned Vaccine knew how he hated to be seen without his hat. It was almost always affixed to his head, just as he never removed the cowl over his mouth.
"In.. the throne.. room.. but," he whispered brokenly.
"I'll be right back."
"No---its all right--I.." A coughing spasm seized him as he tried to call her back. He struggled to control it as quickly as possible, but she was already gone inside Myotismon's chamber. When she returned, she held his battered hat firmly in one paw and his staff in the other, but her expression had hardened again.
"Here", she threw the hat and staff onto his chest. "Myotismon says that you can have the next night off as he was very pleased with you. However, you'd better get back to your own room to recover before Demidevimon's guard duty is over, or you'll be spending your free time with him."
Wizrdmon felt his heart become as heavy as the rest of him. She was gone again--hidden from his eyes. Submerged behind the alternate personality Myotismon had put on her. He sighed tiredly. "Thank you Gatomon, for retreiving my hat and staff... And for the warning. I will try to get back in time."
She turned to walk away, leaving him to crawl along the cold stones of the hallway towards the refuge of his room. They both knew he'd never make it in his condition.
"Gatomon?" Wizardmon asked in a weak voice.
The cat stopped, but did not turn around. "What is it?"
"I'm glad you're all right."
The tail twitched a little.
"Hurry, Wizardmon. You have only a quarter hour."
He didn't see her again for several days after that. But ten minutes after she'd left, two Bakemon silently appeared at his side and wordlessly helped him get to safety. It was too much to be a coincidence. Bakemon didn't put themselves out unless ordered to. And a good thing, as he'd never have made it on his own power before Demidevimon could come looking to claim his hide.
Gatomon had saved him once again.
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