*does mad scientist cackle* I'm aliiiiiiiiiiiive! And I have an excuse for being so lazy, I really, really do!
- Ken - I'm sure...
Shut up, you. *bonks muse with anime mallet* Wimbledon!
- Ken - *staggering around* Please don't pretend you're good enough to play tennis in that...
Uh, well, no, but my dad WANTS me to be, so I've been practising tennis every second of every day!
- Ken - And this is relevant... how?
Um... 'cause I sprained my wrist!
- Ken - No you didn't.
Okay, fine, I didn't. But I sprained it during the season last fall, and it's been acting up again! That's my excuse!
- Ken - Clever.
*bonks muse again* That and writer's block, anyways. Ooh! Ooh! Ken enters in this part!
- Ken - I hate you.
Heh...
Aaand... I wanna thank EVERYONE who's been incredible and reviewed! Especially Jesanae Tekani, who... uh... scared me into writing this again... *grins sheepishly* And the four people, who, according to the statistics page, have put this story on favourites! (Despite the lack of... enthusiasm... on my part... heh...) And, uh... for those who were wondering, I *was* kidding with the sixty billion review thing in the last chapter... heh...
Disclaimer ~ Okay, if you haven't gotten the point by now, you're dense. Really, really dense. Okay, let me explain. I am a FAN (implying that I do NOT own digimon) writing FICTION, hence the term Fanfiction. Comprende? Oh yeah, and one line is from Harry Potter, which belongs to JK Rowling! Got it? Good.
Read! Review!
As Destiny Blooms
Part Two ~ Meshidasu Ashi ~*~ To Summon Evil (I can't speak Japanese! So sue me!)
A large castle loomed over the landscape, almost completely blending in with the dreary landscape. Its walls were worn, gray rocks that seemed to melt into the stormy sky that swirled above. Turrets and spires jutted out sharply from the top, rising ominously to stab the clouds. The fortress was an imposing view, visible from miles away, commanding respect, or at least fear, from all occupants of the mountain it perched upon. Within the stronghold dwelled a maniacal ruler, a tyrant whose sole goal was to overtake the world. A small group of rebels had steadfastly opposed him, but after their last battle, their leader had been severely injured, and one of their members had been taken hostage.
That same motley band of mere children and their partner digimon were crouching, hidden, in a cave several kilometres away. Their shelter was a dreary hole in the side of a low-riding hill, damp and dusty. A young girl, barely eight years of age, stared out of the small entrance with morose mahogany eyes. A small breeze blew playfully around her, tousling her light brown hair and whipping her well-worn outfit around her thin frame. She shivered, not from the cool winds, but from apprehension.
"Kari," whispered a young boy, about her age, approaching the girl from behind. Kari turned her head, and the elder saw clearly the sadness etched across her face. "Kari, Tai's calling for you. You'd better come in."
Without a word, the young girl turned and walked swiftly into the black recesses of their refuge, watched closely by the boy's compassionate cerulean eyes. She knelt by the fevered form of her older brother, who tossed and turned, mumbling deliriously, on a shallow pile of straw. Beside them sat another boy with indigo hair, his worried obsidian eyes concealed behind wire-rimmed glasses, which he shoved habitually up the bridge of his nose.
"Joe?" asked Kari softly, running her hands through her brother's large bush of chocolate hair. The flushed boy ceased his ranting when he felt her gentle touch.
"Yeah, Kari?" replied the older boy, ceaselessly reapplying ointment and bandages to their leader's wounds.
"Is he..." Her voice broke as she gazed down at her brother's scratched and bruised face. "Is he gonna be all right?"
Joe chuckled slightly. "So that's what's been worrying you?" Kari nodded silently, gazing up at the makeshift doctor with worried eyes. Joe's own ebony eyes softened. "If he makes it through tonight, he'll be fine. A lot of his wounds were infected, and he's got a fever, but I don't doubt that he'll make it."
Kari's youthful face lit up. "Really?" she asked delightedly. Joe nodded, smiling at her reaction.
"You know Tai, Kari. He won't ever give up." Kari nodded in agreement, grinning down at her brother, who was by now sleeping peacefully, lulled by their voices and the medicines he had been taking. "Besides," Joe continued, "I've got all the med. supplies I'll need right here." He patted his travel-worn duffel bag, which sat beside him on the dusty ground, slightly open. Kari peered in and saw a myriad of indistinguishable medical tools.
Her eyes widened in awe. "Wow, Joe... you sure are prepared."
Joe shrugged modestly. "My dad *is* a doctor. And besides," he added, offering her a grin, "I *am* the Chosen Child of Reliability. It's my job."
Kari giggled as Joe turned back to his patient, removing some gauze that had covered a nasty gash on Tai's arm. Another girl came up to them, seating herself beside Kari.
"So, Kari," she began conversationally, running a hand through her fiery hair. "How's he doing?"
Kari beamed at her. "He's doing better, Sora." The older girl nodded once, gazing down at Tai's inanimate features. She took hold of one of Tai's hands, squeezing it comfortingly although he was unconscious. Somehow, she knew he could feel her there beside him, and the thought comforted her.
Several feet away, a redheaded boy perched on a slightly damp rock, disregarding the moisture that seeped through his clothes. He typed away steadily at a small, yellow-and-white pineapple laptop that was nestled securely on his lap. A young girl stood behind him, peering over his shoulder perplexedly at the symbols that danced wildly across the screen, brought on by his flying fingertips.
"Ummm... Izzy?" she queried tentatively, taking her light pink cowboy hat off of her head and brushing her beige hair back from her eyes.
The scholarly boy grunted vaguely, his jet black gaze fixed on the screen.
"What the heck are you doing?"
Izzy glanced up at her for a second before reverting his gaze to his laptop, sighing resignedly. "I'm trying to figure out a way to get Matt back," he explained, gesturing randomly at the figures on the screen. "My estimates are that Piedmon's castle is impenetrable, but I've been striving to find a weakness."
The girl bit her lip, nodding despite her obvious confusion. "I... get it..." she lied. Izzy shook his head and shifted his place on the rock.
"Sit down, Mimi," he said, patting the space beside him. "Maybe you can help me." Mimi sat down hesitantly, brushing off the rock so as not to get her dress dirty.
"So... how do we get Matt out of there?" she asked, referring to their comrade, who, along with his digimon, had been kidnapped by Piedmon.
"I don't know yet." Izzy furrowed his brow in frustration, staring intently at the screen as if he expected it to come up with an answer.
"D'you think... maybe an air attack?" she suggested doubtfully. "I mean, if Piedmon's, like, not expecting us, we could drop in, maybe..."
Izzy shook his head. "Good idea, but Piedmon's got guards, both magical, physical, and digimon, surrounding his castle, from the sides, bottom, and top. It's practically impervious."
Mimi sighed dejectedly. "Then it's impossible," she murmured.
Izzy typed stubbornly at his computer. "Don't worry, Mimi," he assured her. "There's got to be a way..."
Far away, across a cheerless expanse of bare rock and stone, the same boy they discussed stirred, roused from his unconscious state. He opened his icy blue eyes slowly, looking around himself warily. His gaze fell on a prone figure, draped in a blue-striped fur coat, who still lay on the floor.
"Gabumon!" he cried hoarsely, trying desperately to reach his friend. At some point during his dazed efforts to approach the unconscious digimon, he realised that he was firmly bound to a rough marble pillar with tight ropes. A demoniac laugh echoed through the empty hall, and the boy jerked his head upwards, glaring towards the source, a tall clown-like figure walking regally into his captive's line of vision.
"You're awake," the clown remarked, his smooth voice sending chills down the boy's spine.
"No thanks to you," he snapped in reply, shivering uncontrollably. The pale lights illuminating the room caught the angry glint in his icy eyes as he stared malevolently at his captor. "What did you do to Gabumon?"
The clown's reddish eyes lit up in surprise. "Why, nothing, Matt. Did you think I would ever do anything to hurt your precious friend?" The clown's sarcastic tone was accompanied by a leer that spread across his satanically painted face.
"Why you..." the boy growled under his breath, completing the threat with an expletive that caused the clown to laugh tauntingly.
"Do you think I am threatened by a little boy like you?" he asked.
Matt averted his gaze, drawing in a shuddering breath as the clown slowly approached him. "Piedmon, just cut to the chase. What do you want me for?"
A delighted smile stretched across the clown's face, accented by blood-red lips, as he darted forward and grabbed a handful of Matt's blonde hair, forcing the boy's face towards him.
Biting back a yell of pain, Matt muttered rebelliously, "Lay off the hair!"
Piedmon's sordid breath blew forcefully into Matt's face as he growled at his captive. "You. Will. Not. Give. Me. Orders," he retorted, punctuating each remark with a yank on Matt's tender scalp. "As to what I want," he continued with a demonic grin, releasing Matt's head. "You will give it to me no matter what."
"No way!" Matt yelled wildly, desperately ignoring the waves of pain that shot from the roots of his hair, momentarily blurring his vision.
"I want you to fight with me," Piedmon proceeded, almost blithely, blatantly neglecting Matt's vehement protesting. "No, no, no, young Chosen, don't bother objecting. It's in your nature."
"What?" yelped Matt, but his rebuke of Piedmon's suggestion lacked the enthusiasm it had before. "What do you mean... my nature?" he asked hesitantly. Piedmon grinned, delighted.
"It's your destiny to defeat those brats and rule this world by my side!" he crowed, throwing his head back and laughing uncontrollably.
Matt fought down a wave of nausea that threatened to overcome him. "...Destiny?" he whispered, barely audible. Suddenly, his voice came back stronger. "Puppetmon already tried this with me!" he yelled, blinking back sudden tears. "I almost destroyed them before. I *won't* consent to doing that again!"
"Come now, Matt," Piedmon replied appeasingly. "You've never really recovered from that, have you? The feeling of power... it was intoxicating, wasn't it?" Matt ducked his head, unable to reply. Piedmon smiled knowingly. "You feel guilty, because you want that power again."
"But..." Matt protested feebly, tears shining in his eyes. "They're my friends. And what that... that entity said... I can't let you win!"
"The entity was only trying to get you back on their side. There is no good and evil, Matt! Just power, and those who are too weak to recognise it!" A/N ~ *cackles* I read Harry Potter too much... I warped the line a little, though... heh...
Confusion was etched in Matt's gaze, but he still shook his head stubbornly. "I have power, the kind you wouldn't understand!"
"The power of friends?" asked Piedmon cynically. "What friends? I don't see them."
"They're coming, I know it," he replied obstinately.
Piedmon shook his head in mock-sadness. "Matt, Matt, Matt. When will you ever see? They only used you. You have no friends... but me, that is."
Behind him, Gabumon stirred. "Matt?" asked the dog-like digimon nervously. "What's going on?"
Piedmon glared. "What a time for you to wake up," he snapped, kicking the digimon away. "Someone come and restrain this powerless ball of fluff in the dungeons!" he called.
A troop of Vilemon, strange, grayish, monkey-like creatures came marching in through the door, the pale lights reflecting in their beady red eyes, and their bat-like wings flapping listlessly behind them. They all bowed to Piedmon, grinning insanely to show off their pointed teeth, and walked casually up to Gabumon, who was still lying dazed on the floor. The digimon began to struggle, but was soon pinned down by a myriad Vilemon, and led from the room.
Satisfied, Piedmon turned back to Matt, who was staring forlornly after his digimon. "I'll leave you to think on what I said," he remarked casually, turning and leaving the speechless boy as he walked out of the hall.
When he was out of Matt's sight range, however, he transformed, anger boiling throughout his body. Slamming a gloved hand into the rough stone wall, he ranted pointlessly.
"Stupid boy!" he screamed. "I sensed the darkness in him! It was so obvious!" He paused to glare back in the direction of the hall where Matt was still tied to the pillar. "Why should he choose now to deny his nature?"
Still fuming, he stalked down the hall, ignoring the numerous servants who dropped what they were doing to scurry out of his path, bowing frantically. He swept regally into his throne room, snapping at his dutiful servants to leave him alone. The weak digimon scattered out of their moody master's presence, letting him stay completely isolated in the empty room.
He collapsed in the high-backed chair that served as his throne, idly picking off the flaking golden paint on its arms as he glared around him. The elegant scarlet curtains that surrounded the room were beginning to show their wear, worn through and ripped in several places. The carpet, a shade of bloody red, was dirty from the steps of many servants. On the wall hung a framed picture of all four Dark Masters. The glass was broken from when Piedmon had thrown a vase at it, enraged that they could be defeated so easily. The others had fallen, one by one, to this unimaginably strong rebel force composed of small children.
MetalSeaDramon had been the first to fall. Piedmon focused on his ex-colleague's serpent-like form, glinting in the unseen sunlight that had glowed the day the picture was taken. He was a fool. Thinking that he could possibly control the vast expanse of the seas all by himself, and not even being that strong of a mega. Piedmon laughed to himself, reminiscing scornfully about his old partners.
His gaze fell on Puppetmon next, taking in the wooden one's rakish yet fun-loving smile amid tangled strings and boards. Puppetmon... also a fool. He loved to play far too much, and his yearning for a playmate had led him unsuspectingly to his doom.
Piedmon's brow furrowed as he looked upon the seemingly impenetrable form of MachineDramon. When the children had defeated MachineDramon, he had started to worry. Of course, Piedmon was by far the most powerful, but MachineDramon had been a close second, and he had been defeated by only one of the children's megas. True, he had been at a disadvantage, what with WarGreymon's weapons designed especially for Dramon-type digimon, but still... Piedmon mused to himself silently, tapping an elegant finger on his lap.
When MachineDramon had been defeated, Piedmon had realised that he needed more to defeat the Chosen. He had found that in Matt. The boy harbored an evilness deep inside himself.
"But how shall I bring it out...?" Piedmon murmured, perplexed. Suddenly, a voice whispered from beside the chair, and he jumped in surprise.
"Take time, Piedmon. I, too, sensed the darkness in his soul," it hissed. Piedmon looked warily about, his gaze falling on a swirling black mist that came out of a corner in the room.
"Wha... who...?" he stammered, backing up.
The mist let out a sinister chuckle. "Do not fear me, old friend."
Piedmon peered closely at the mist, his mouth dropping open in surprise as he glimpsed a fanged smile deep in it. "Myotismon?" he whispered.
"One and the same, my old comrade," Myotismon replied. "I am saving my strength in this translucent form until I am once again able to defeat those foolish children."
"What did you mean about the boy? How can I take time? The Chosen will eventually come to rescue him."
"I see..." Myotismon mused for a second. "I have... taken over the soul of another Chosen, back on Earth."
"What?" Piedmon leaned forward eagerly. "But they're all here! How can that be?"
"I think this boy never realised his calling to be a Chosen Child, and was not needed to defeat me. But he *does* have the power of any of these Chosen we fight now. I have implanted a Dark Seed in the child, to feed off of his darkness and grow, taking over his mind. I believe the seed may have matured enough so that he would willingly join our cause."
Piedmon licked his lips in anticipation. "Fantastic... Then we may not even need that insufferable Chosen." He gestured rudely towards the hall.
"We could have both, if we took our time," Myotismon replied, unseen lips cracking into a demonic smile. "Do you wish me to summon the boy here?"
"Now?" asked Piedmon. "Yes!"
Matt was falling asleep, hoping to forget the pain caused by numb joints. He had been incessantly mulling over what Piedmon hat been telling him, and, despite himself, began to see some reason in the clown's persuasion.
His head dropped, nestled snugly against his chest, and he slowly closed his eyes, letting the comforting darkness encompass him. Suddenly, he jerked awake, acutely aware of a certain aura that pervaded the air in the castle. The secure fortress was suddenly rocked by a silent explosion, followed by a blinding flash of light and a cry of triumph, voiced by Piedmon and another unseen villain.
In a small cave miles away, Tai had just stirred, and Joe, Sora, and Kari all watched anxiously over him.
"Something's going to happen..." he rasped weakly, trying to raise his head. Kari gently pushed him back down.
"Don't worry about it, Tai," she said softly. "Nothing's wrong."
Joe suddenly spoke up, his midnight eyes darting around warily. "I feel it too. It's like... a tension in the air, or something."
He was suddenly interrupted by a blindingly bright light that shot up from the castle in the distance. In a few moments, it faded, as did the tension in the air.
After a minute of utter silence, Izzy asked, "What the heck was that?"
~~~
After the dust cleared in the throne room, Piedmon looked eagerly upon a vulnerable form that lay in a crater in the middle of the room. The small boy stood hesitantly, fear evident on his face as he took in his surroundings. Piedmon smiled maniacally as he looked into the boy's cool azure eyes. In them he saw apprehension, innocence, a gentleness... but also a darkness lurking behind it all, yearning to escape.
-----
Well... hope it wasn't *too* bad... heh... I'll try not to be so lazy with the next chapter... *fidgets nervously* And to the people who thought I was gonna kill Tai, well... *shrugs* How could I ever kill my Tai?
- Takeru - You killed me in that one fic...
Er... um, well, that went with the plot... Hey... you're not my muse!
- Takeru - *shrugs* Ken bribed me.
Where is he?!
- Takeru - ...I think he's heading for Calgary...
*hefts anime mallet over her shoulder* Excuse me while I go hunt my muse down... *runs after Ken*
- Takeru - *sweatdrop* Uh... Review, I guess...
- Ken - I'm sure...
Shut up, you. *bonks muse with anime mallet* Wimbledon!
- Ken - *staggering around* Please don't pretend you're good enough to play tennis in that...
Uh, well, no, but my dad WANTS me to be, so I've been practising tennis every second of every day!
- Ken - And this is relevant... how?
Um... 'cause I sprained my wrist!
- Ken - No you didn't.
Okay, fine, I didn't. But I sprained it during the season last fall, and it's been acting up again! That's my excuse!
- Ken - Clever.
*bonks muse again* That and writer's block, anyways. Ooh! Ooh! Ken enters in this part!
- Ken - I hate you.
Heh...
Aaand... I wanna thank EVERYONE who's been incredible and reviewed! Especially Jesanae Tekani, who... uh... scared me into writing this again... *grins sheepishly* And the four people, who, according to the statistics page, have put this story on favourites! (Despite the lack of... enthusiasm... on my part... heh...) And, uh... for those who were wondering, I *was* kidding with the sixty billion review thing in the last chapter... heh...
Disclaimer ~ Okay, if you haven't gotten the point by now, you're dense. Really, really dense. Okay, let me explain. I am a FAN (implying that I do NOT own digimon) writing FICTION, hence the term Fanfiction. Comprende? Oh yeah, and one line is from Harry Potter, which belongs to JK Rowling! Got it? Good.
Read! Review!
As Destiny Blooms
Part Two ~ Meshidasu Ashi ~*~ To Summon Evil (I can't speak Japanese! So sue me!)
A large castle loomed over the landscape, almost completely blending in with the dreary landscape. Its walls were worn, gray rocks that seemed to melt into the stormy sky that swirled above. Turrets and spires jutted out sharply from the top, rising ominously to stab the clouds. The fortress was an imposing view, visible from miles away, commanding respect, or at least fear, from all occupants of the mountain it perched upon. Within the stronghold dwelled a maniacal ruler, a tyrant whose sole goal was to overtake the world. A small group of rebels had steadfastly opposed him, but after their last battle, their leader had been severely injured, and one of their members had been taken hostage.
That same motley band of mere children and their partner digimon were crouching, hidden, in a cave several kilometres away. Their shelter was a dreary hole in the side of a low-riding hill, damp and dusty. A young girl, barely eight years of age, stared out of the small entrance with morose mahogany eyes. A small breeze blew playfully around her, tousling her light brown hair and whipping her well-worn outfit around her thin frame. She shivered, not from the cool winds, but from apprehension.
"Kari," whispered a young boy, about her age, approaching the girl from behind. Kari turned her head, and the elder saw clearly the sadness etched across her face. "Kari, Tai's calling for you. You'd better come in."
Without a word, the young girl turned and walked swiftly into the black recesses of their refuge, watched closely by the boy's compassionate cerulean eyes. She knelt by the fevered form of her older brother, who tossed and turned, mumbling deliriously, on a shallow pile of straw. Beside them sat another boy with indigo hair, his worried obsidian eyes concealed behind wire-rimmed glasses, which he shoved habitually up the bridge of his nose.
"Joe?" asked Kari softly, running her hands through her brother's large bush of chocolate hair. The flushed boy ceased his ranting when he felt her gentle touch.
"Yeah, Kari?" replied the older boy, ceaselessly reapplying ointment and bandages to their leader's wounds.
"Is he..." Her voice broke as she gazed down at her brother's scratched and bruised face. "Is he gonna be all right?"
Joe chuckled slightly. "So that's what's been worrying you?" Kari nodded silently, gazing up at the makeshift doctor with worried eyes. Joe's own ebony eyes softened. "If he makes it through tonight, he'll be fine. A lot of his wounds were infected, and he's got a fever, but I don't doubt that he'll make it."
Kari's youthful face lit up. "Really?" she asked delightedly. Joe nodded, smiling at her reaction.
"You know Tai, Kari. He won't ever give up." Kari nodded in agreement, grinning down at her brother, who was by now sleeping peacefully, lulled by their voices and the medicines he had been taking. "Besides," Joe continued, "I've got all the med. supplies I'll need right here." He patted his travel-worn duffel bag, which sat beside him on the dusty ground, slightly open. Kari peered in and saw a myriad of indistinguishable medical tools.
Her eyes widened in awe. "Wow, Joe... you sure are prepared."
Joe shrugged modestly. "My dad *is* a doctor. And besides," he added, offering her a grin, "I *am* the Chosen Child of Reliability. It's my job."
Kari giggled as Joe turned back to his patient, removing some gauze that had covered a nasty gash on Tai's arm. Another girl came up to them, seating herself beside Kari.
"So, Kari," she began conversationally, running a hand through her fiery hair. "How's he doing?"
Kari beamed at her. "He's doing better, Sora." The older girl nodded once, gazing down at Tai's inanimate features. She took hold of one of Tai's hands, squeezing it comfortingly although he was unconscious. Somehow, she knew he could feel her there beside him, and the thought comforted her.
Several feet away, a redheaded boy perched on a slightly damp rock, disregarding the moisture that seeped through his clothes. He typed away steadily at a small, yellow-and-white pineapple laptop that was nestled securely on his lap. A young girl stood behind him, peering over his shoulder perplexedly at the symbols that danced wildly across the screen, brought on by his flying fingertips.
"Ummm... Izzy?" she queried tentatively, taking her light pink cowboy hat off of her head and brushing her beige hair back from her eyes.
The scholarly boy grunted vaguely, his jet black gaze fixed on the screen.
"What the heck are you doing?"
Izzy glanced up at her for a second before reverting his gaze to his laptop, sighing resignedly. "I'm trying to figure out a way to get Matt back," he explained, gesturing randomly at the figures on the screen. "My estimates are that Piedmon's castle is impenetrable, but I've been striving to find a weakness."
The girl bit her lip, nodding despite her obvious confusion. "I... get it..." she lied. Izzy shook his head and shifted his place on the rock.
"Sit down, Mimi," he said, patting the space beside him. "Maybe you can help me." Mimi sat down hesitantly, brushing off the rock so as not to get her dress dirty.
"So... how do we get Matt out of there?" she asked, referring to their comrade, who, along with his digimon, had been kidnapped by Piedmon.
"I don't know yet." Izzy furrowed his brow in frustration, staring intently at the screen as if he expected it to come up with an answer.
"D'you think... maybe an air attack?" she suggested doubtfully. "I mean, if Piedmon's, like, not expecting us, we could drop in, maybe..."
Izzy shook his head. "Good idea, but Piedmon's got guards, both magical, physical, and digimon, surrounding his castle, from the sides, bottom, and top. It's practically impervious."
Mimi sighed dejectedly. "Then it's impossible," she murmured.
Izzy typed stubbornly at his computer. "Don't worry, Mimi," he assured her. "There's got to be a way..."
Far away, across a cheerless expanse of bare rock and stone, the same boy they discussed stirred, roused from his unconscious state. He opened his icy blue eyes slowly, looking around himself warily. His gaze fell on a prone figure, draped in a blue-striped fur coat, who still lay on the floor.
"Gabumon!" he cried hoarsely, trying desperately to reach his friend. At some point during his dazed efforts to approach the unconscious digimon, he realised that he was firmly bound to a rough marble pillar with tight ropes. A demoniac laugh echoed through the empty hall, and the boy jerked his head upwards, glaring towards the source, a tall clown-like figure walking regally into his captive's line of vision.
"You're awake," the clown remarked, his smooth voice sending chills down the boy's spine.
"No thanks to you," he snapped in reply, shivering uncontrollably. The pale lights illuminating the room caught the angry glint in his icy eyes as he stared malevolently at his captor. "What did you do to Gabumon?"
The clown's reddish eyes lit up in surprise. "Why, nothing, Matt. Did you think I would ever do anything to hurt your precious friend?" The clown's sarcastic tone was accompanied by a leer that spread across his satanically painted face.
"Why you..." the boy growled under his breath, completing the threat with an expletive that caused the clown to laugh tauntingly.
"Do you think I am threatened by a little boy like you?" he asked.
Matt averted his gaze, drawing in a shuddering breath as the clown slowly approached him. "Piedmon, just cut to the chase. What do you want me for?"
A delighted smile stretched across the clown's face, accented by blood-red lips, as he darted forward and grabbed a handful of Matt's blonde hair, forcing the boy's face towards him.
Biting back a yell of pain, Matt muttered rebelliously, "Lay off the hair!"
Piedmon's sordid breath blew forcefully into Matt's face as he growled at his captive. "You. Will. Not. Give. Me. Orders," he retorted, punctuating each remark with a yank on Matt's tender scalp. "As to what I want," he continued with a demonic grin, releasing Matt's head. "You will give it to me no matter what."
"No way!" Matt yelled wildly, desperately ignoring the waves of pain that shot from the roots of his hair, momentarily blurring his vision.
"I want you to fight with me," Piedmon proceeded, almost blithely, blatantly neglecting Matt's vehement protesting. "No, no, no, young Chosen, don't bother objecting. It's in your nature."
"What?" yelped Matt, but his rebuke of Piedmon's suggestion lacked the enthusiasm it had before. "What do you mean... my nature?" he asked hesitantly. Piedmon grinned, delighted.
"It's your destiny to defeat those brats and rule this world by my side!" he crowed, throwing his head back and laughing uncontrollably.
Matt fought down a wave of nausea that threatened to overcome him. "...Destiny?" he whispered, barely audible. Suddenly, his voice came back stronger. "Puppetmon already tried this with me!" he yelled, blinking back sudden tears. "I almost destroyed them before. I *won't* consent to doing that again!"
"Come now, Matt," Piedmon replied appeasingly. "You've never really recovered from that, have you? The feeling of power... it was intoxicating, wasn't it?" Matt ducked his head, unable to reply. Piedmon smiled knowingly. "You feel guilty, because you want that power again."
"But..." Matt protested feebly, tears shining in his eyes. "They're my friends. And what that... that entity said... I can't let you win!"
"The entity was only trying to get you back on their side. There is no good and evil, Matt! Just power, and those who are too weak to recognise it!" A/N ~ *cackles* I read Harry Potter too much... I warped the line a little, though... heh...
Confusion was etched in Matt's gaze, but he still shook his head stubbornly. "I have power, the kind you wouldn't understand!"
"The power of friends?" asked Piedmon cynically. "What friends? I don't see them."
"They're coming, I know it," he replied obstinately.
Piedmon shook his head in mock-sadness. "Matt, Matt, Matt. When will you ever see? They only used you. You have no friends... but me, that is."
Behind him, Gabumon stirred. "Matt?" asked the dog-like digimon nervously. "What's going on?"
Piedmon glared. "What a time for you to wake up," he snapped, kicking the digimon away. "Someone come and restrain this powerless ball of fluff in the dungeons!" he called.
A troop of Vilemon, strange, grayish, monkey-like creatures came marching in through the door, the pale lights reflecting in their beady red eyes, and their bat-like wings flapping listlessly behind them. They all bowed to Piedmon, grinning insanely to show off their pointed teeth, and walked casually up to Gabumon, who was still lying dazed on the floor. The digimon began to struggle, but was soon pinned down by a myriad Vilemon, and led from the room.
Satisfied, Piedmon turned back to Matt, who was staring forlornly after his digimon. "I'll leave you to think on what I said," he remarked casually, turning and leaving the speechless boy as he walked out of the hall.
When he was out of Matt's sight range, however, he transformed, anger boiling throughout his body. Slamming a gloved hand into the rough stone wall, he ranted pointlessly.
"Stupid boy!" he screamed. "I sensed the darkness in him! It was so obvious!" He paused to glare back in the direction of the hall where Matt was still tied to the pillar. "Why should he choose now to deny his nature?"
Still fuming, he stalked down the hall, ignoring the numerous servants who dropped what they were doing to scurry out of his path, bowing frantically. He swept regally into his throne room, snapping at his dutiful servants to leave him alone. The weak digimon scattered out of their moody master's presence, letting him stay completely isolated in the empty room.
He collapsed in the high-backed chair that served as his throne, idly picking off the flaking golden paint on its arms as he glared around him. The elegant scarlet curtains that surrounded the room were beginning to show their wear, worn through and ripped in several places. The carpet, a shade of bloody red, was dirty from the steps of many servants. On the wall hung a framed picture of all four Dark Masters. The glass was broken from when Piedmon had thrown a vase at it, enraged that they could be defeated so easily. The others had fallen, one by one, to this unimaginably strong rebel force composed of small children.
MetalSeaDramon had been the first to fall. Piedmon focused on his ex-colleague's serpent-like form, glinting in the unseen sunlight that had glowed the day the picture was taken. He was a fool. Thinking that he could possibly control the vast expanse of the seas all by himself, and not even being that strong of a mega. Piedmon laughed to himself, reminiscing scornfully about his old partners.
His gaze fell on Puppetmon next, taking in the wooden one's rakish yet fun-loving smile amid tangled strings and boards. Puppetmon... also a fool. He loved to play far too much, and his yearning for a playmate had led him unsuspectingly to his doom.
Piedmon's brow furrowed as he looked upon the seemingly impenetrable form of MachineDramon. When the children had defeated MachineDramon, he had started to worry. Of course, Piedmon was by far the most powerful, but MachineDramon had been a close second, and he had been defeated by only one of the children's megas. True, he had been at a disadvantage, what with WarGreymon's weapons designed especially for Dramon-type digimon, but still... Piedmon mused to himself silently, tapping an elegant finger on his lap.
When MachineDramon had been defeated, Piedmon had realised that he needed more to defeat the Chosen. He had found that in Matt. The boy harbored an evilness deep inside himself.
"But how shall I bring it out...?" Piedmon murmured, perplexed. Suddenly, a voice whispered from beside the chair, and he jumped in surprise.
"Take time, Piedmon. I, too, sensed the darkness in his soul," it hissed. Piedmon looked warily about, his gaze falling on a swirling black mist that came out of a corner in the room.
"Wha... who...?" he stammered, backing up.
The mist let out a sinister chuckle. "Do not fear me, old friend."
Piedmon peered closely at the mist, his mouth dropping open in surprise as he glimpsed a fanged smile deep in it. "Myotismon?" he whispered.
"One and the same, my old comrade," Myotismon replied. "I am saving my strength in this translucent form until I am once again able to defeat those foolish children."
"What did you mean about the boy? How can I take time? The Chosen will eventually come to rescue him."
"I see..." Myotismon mused for a second. "I have... taken over the soul of another Chosen, back on Earth."
"What?" Piedmon leaned forward eagerly. "But they're all here! How can that be?"
"I think this boy never realised his calling to be a Chosen Child, and was not needed to defeat me. But he *does* have the power of any of these Chosen we fight now. I have implanted a Dark Seed in the child, to feed off of his darkness and grow, taking over his mind. I believe the seed may have matured enough so that he would willingly join our cause."
Piedmon licked his lips in anticipation. "Fantastic... Then we may not even need that insufferable Chosen." He gestured rudely towards the hall.
"We could have both, if we took our time," Myotismon replied, unseen lips cracking into a demonic smile. "Do you wish me to summon the boy here?"
"Now?" asked Piedmon. "Yes!"
Matt was falling asleep, hoping to forget the pain caused by numb joints. He had been incessantly mulling over what Piedmon hat been telling him, and, despite himself, began to see some reason in the clown's persuasion.
His head dropped, nestled snugly against his chest, and he slowly closed his eyes, letting the comforting darkness encompass him. Suddenly, he jerked awake, acutely aware of a certain aura that pervaded the air in the castle. The secure fortress was suddenly rocked by a silent explosion, followed by a blinding flash of light and a cry of triumph, voiced by Piedmon and another unseen villain.
In a small cave miles away, Tai had just stirred, and Joe, Sora, and Kari all watched anxiously over him.
"Something's going to happen..." he rasped weakly, trying to raise his head. Kari gently pushed him back down.
"Don't worry about it, Tai," she said softly. "Nothing's wrong."
Joe suddenly spoke up, his midnight eyes darting around warily. "I feel it too. It's like... a tension in the air, or something."
He was suddenly interrupted by a blindingly bright light that shot up from the castle in the distance. In a few moments, it faded, as did the tension in the air.
After a minute of utter silence, Izzy asked, "What the heck was that?"
~~~
After the dust cleared in the throne room, Piedmon looked eagerly upon a vulnerable form that lay in a crater in the middle of the room. The small boy stood hesitantly, fear evident on his face as he took in his surroundings. Piedmon smiled maniacally as he looked into the boy's cool azure eyes. In them he saw apprehension, innocence, a gentleness... but also a darkness lurking behind it all, yearning to escape.
-----
Well... hope it wasn't *too* bad... heh... I'll try not to be so lazy with the next chapter... *fidgets nervously* And to the people who thought I was gonna kill Tai, well... *shrugs* How could I ever kill my Tai?
- Takeru - You killed me in that one fic...
Er... um, well, that went with the plot... Hey... you're not my muse!
- Takeru - *shrugs* Ken bribed me.
Where is he?!
- Takeru - ...I think he's heading for Calgary...
*hefts anime mallet over her shoulder* Excuse me while I go hunt my muse down... *runs after Ken*
- Takeru - *sweatdrop* Uh... Review, I guess...