A/N: Athena's on a roll! Thanks for the EXCELLENT review, Devidramon! I don't know what TDE is but I know I made Auramon up. That must have been pure coincidence if there was another story with Auramon as Wiz's rookie. And Jes, PLEASE don't scare me like that! (J/K). CheeseWizardmon (and whoever else asked, I remember CheeseWizardmon asking), your answer is in the title! OK, so this concept isn't too original, of Gatomon digivolving to this stage, but there is a lot of original stuff in here. Credit to GameGirl because one of her fics inspired me. And… well… the crappy computer shut down because of a stupid power failure, so don't mind if the descriptions aren't as detailed as they are in the other chapters, OK?
Chapter 6: Lady Myotismon
"I wish to be forever virus," said Gatomon, firmly and undenying it.
An artificial expression of astonishment played itself across Myotismon's face. I know she'd do anything to save her friend, he thought. "Did you say you wished to be a virus?"
"Yes," replied the cat. "I wish to be Necromamon out of his misery."
The astonishment melted away to reveal the true expression the vampire had: a feeling of sinister conquest. He had won, and the transformation had gotten to Gatomon. "You are a very noble young digimon," he told her. Suddenly, a Bakemon flew out with metal shackles to put around Gatomon's neck and had a chain on it, like a leash. "Let me lead you to your home. We don't want you to escape before you undergo your magnificent metamorphosis."
The cat hadn't expected to be chained to anything or have shackles put around her neck; all she had expected was to drink the potion and change straightforward, without a question. Why? Why couldn't I just have that potion to get it over with? Tears started froming in her eyes as the shackles were clasped around her neck and she felt the frigidness of the metal through her fur.
"Bakemon, take her to the prison!" the vampire dictated. He wished to be left alone to make just the right potion, for Gatomon's dark digivolution would be special.
Gatomon glared at Myotismon, not caring about how much he dispised her eyes and how many scars she had received for staring at him. She felt a slight tug and felt herself choking as the ghost flew ahead and started tugging on the shackles as if it were a leash. She stumbled slightly, then walked along to keep up. Suddenly, she felt the scalding heat brush itself across her backside as she was whipped with a bolt of Crimson Lightning. She clenched her teeth, taking the unbearable pain.
"Faster, Bakemon!" commanded Myotismon as a red glow formed around his hand.
"Come on, Gatomon," muttered Bakemon as Gatomon was pulled forward and was dragged against the stone floor. She felt more pain as the part of her backside that was whipped was being dragged across.
Gatomon knew she had enough, and she had to escape. "LIGHTNING CLAW!" She tried to scratch away at the chain the Bakemon was tugging, but nothing worse than a few minute scratches appeared on the metal.
"You can't escape for your decision was final," the ghost reminded her. The cat grew indignant at the fact that she didn't drink the potion and get it over with. She thought that something was not right, and she was being locked up for a reason. She gained her balance and walked along, her leaden heart dragging her behind.
"Kari! Kaaaaaaa-riiiiiiii!" Erika's cries echoed throughout the stone hallways, and no answer came. "Incantemon, I need help!" She ran back to the torture chamber, where the sorcerer of light was treating the dark sorcerer's wounds. Necromamon was still asleep on the throne, his head supported on one arm, his body draped over the seat and his legs resting on the other arm of the throne. The after effects of the hell pit were visible as pink and red burn marks appeared on his grayish skin, covering most areas on him.
"Erika," said the good sorcerer, "my brother is almost healed. Have you found Kari?"
"Well, I'm afraid Kari's lost, Incantemon," admitted the teenage brunette. "I didn't see her in the hall or anything. Finish so you can help find Kari."
"Be patient, Erika," said the good sorcerer, scooping up a handful of ground healing root and sprinking it on his brother's burns. As the refreshing cool sensation rushed over the pink burns and they began to lose their color, their stinging made Necromamon wince and begin to wake up. "I am glad you've awoken." He rubbed the last of the root over Necromamon's face and all the burns turned back to the regular color and disappeared. "How do you feel?"
"I feel just fine," the dark sorcerer quietly replied as he gazed around the room. "Where is Gatomon? Wasn't she here a few minutes ago?"
"She left for some strange reason," replied Erika. "Maybe she took Kari with her."
The good sorcerer reached for his staff and closed his hand over it. The second he did so, it felt as if warm surges were rushing through the staff right into his mind. As the surge traveled up his arm, Incantemon knew he needed to know what happened. The surge embedded itself in his mind and he closed his eyes without trying to, for he was falling in a trance.
He saw a cold dark prison cell, with Kari crouched in to a cold stone corner, afraid and crying for Gatomon—crying for Angewomon to come and rescue her. Incantemon felt as if he were in the cell with the bearer of light herself, feeling the coolness of the stone, the musty smell of the cell, and even felt her desperation. Still, Kari wasn't reaching out for him.
Suddenly, gray slouds of smoke billowed around him and subsided to reveal an image of Gatomon being submerged in a grayish-red liquid and becoming not more of a shadow. The image became even more vibrant as he saw the cat becoming a shadow, standing as straight as an iron rod and not showing any signs of drowning. The liquid became a waterspout, rotating at a slow speed and shooting up seven feet into the air. As that happened, Gatomon grew taller into a more humanoid shape that wasn't Angewomon, or even Ladydevimon. Two piercing icy blue eyes glowed through the spout of liquid and stared right into the sorcerer's, sending shivers down his spine. As the liquid was about to reveal the new digivolution, the sorcerer closed his eyes and was about to faint to the ground.
"INCANTEMON!" Erika screamed. "What's wrong?"
The sorcerer opened his eyes, the room spinning around him in a whirl of grays and reds. In the midst of it, he saw his human partner gently laying her hand on his, compassion in her eyes.
"He was in a trance," said Necromamon. "Tell me, what did you see?"
The sorcerer hesitated, slowly came to his senses, and replied shakingly, "It's Kari… she's in a prison cell. We must find her, Erika. Come with me."
"I must be the one to find Kari; I was the one who caused this to begin," petitioned the dark sorcerer.
"No, you must rest," replied Incantemon. "Erika and I will find Kari." He and his human partner left the room, leaving the dark sorcerer alone.
The sorcerer of light and his human partner flew down the hall, searching for Kari's prison cell. They descended down the steps into a darker hall full of large stone cells guarded by alert Bakemon, who were now asleep. A few were snoring on the floor, with their keys gripped tightly in their sheet-covered hands. Incantemon closed his eyes and a signal came to him from a cell next to the only empty one, which was hundreds of feet down the hallway. There was a mound of drowsy ghost digimon in the way.
"We must be silent if we must get to her," whispered Incantemon. Erika silently nodded, and they tiptoed gently on the stone floor and heard the faint sound of dripping water in the distance. As they got closer, the signal in the sorcerer's mind got stronger. But it seemed to be creeping up from behind them. It wasn't Kari.
Erika looked behind herself warily, hoping Necromamon was the one who was following them. She could smell the strong odor of musty sheets with traces of rotten meat. Every few seconds the odor of rotten meat overpowered everything. They heard exhaling behind them and turned around to see three Bakemon floating behind them, handcuffs in their hands.
"BOO!" they shouted, clasping the handcuffs around Erika's and Incantemon's wrists and carrying them through the air to the empty cell. They hurled them into the cell, and they crashed against the wall to the ground. Black dust filled the air and clouded their lungs as they tried to breathe. Erika felt a warm river of blood run down her forehead and realized she had been scraped, while Incantemon saw that the ghost digimon had stolen his staff.
"My STAFF!" he shouted loudly, nearly rupturing his voice box as the ghosts hurled it to the ground, nearly shattering it.
"Incantemon?" asked a faint voice. "Is that you?"
The sorcerer closed his eyes and had a vision of the young digi-destined through the wall. She was sitting in the cell next to the two, alone and curled up against the wall.
"Kari!" the teenage digi-destined called out. "Incantemon, you were right about everything! Still, who's going to save us?"
The sorcerer bowed his head. "Our only hope now is Necromamon. He will know about me." He shut his eyes tightly and concentrated. It was as if he were speaking to his brother. Necromamon… brother… if you're awake, please come and help us. We are in a heavily guarded dungeon since the Bakemon are now awake. I know the past few days have been a struggle for you, but please save us, and Gatomon. She is missing, and so is Kari, but Erika and I found Kari. You must free us before it's too late.
The dark sorcerer hadn't been able to fall asleep because he had the sensation that something terrible would happen to not only himself, but everyone who was involved with everything. Gatomon… Erika… Kari… his own brother… all of them, he knew, would be involved. Gatomon would be involved the worst of all. Suddenly, he felt as if his brother were talking to him. He heard every desperate word, every single plea.
"Don't worry, Incantemon," he told his brother. "I'm coming to save you!" He weakly stood up, feeling as if he hadn't walked in years. He clutched the arm of the throne as he took the first few feeble steps, then he gained balance as he walked over to the edge of the pit and took his staff in hand. The sorcerer felt its warmth and openness as he grasped the long metal rod. Without looking back at the room, he gently leapt out with bursts of energy and reached the door.
As he touched the door, he withdrew his hand. He felt as if he couldn't go into the hall for some strange reason. Why? he asked. Why can't I do this? I need to save my brother! I can't be turning evil, am I? Suddenly, he reached out in front of him and gently opened the door a crack. His dark red eyes peered out into the empty corridor, and seeing that the coast was clear, he set a foot outside. Cautiously, he emerged from the torture chamber and gazed around. Something was not right. He remained tense as he completely emerged, but relaxed.
"FLAME CHAIN!" Skullmeramon's cry, followed by his attack of binding the victim in a chain of flames, sounded throughout the halls. Before Necromamon could react, a chain of white-hot flames was wrapped tightly around him, binding his arms to his sides and causing him to fall against the wall. After suffering the impact he had felt, he felt the scorching heat against his body and cried out in agony, feeling as if his skin were being stripped off at once and having acid poured on it.
"Why Necromamon," said another voice. Necromamon cringed and saw Myotismon standing near him. "I see you have survived the pit. I am glad you could drop by."
"What do you want?" asked the sorcerer through clenched teeth, trying to keep his mind off the excruciating pain from the Flame Chain. "Are you going to give me a potion to turn me into a mega-level dark demon?" He flinched as the fire made his robes melt against himself and felt himself bleeding from the pain.
The vampire saw how much pain Necromamon was in and craved seeing more. "Bind the chains tighter, Skullmeramon," he ordered.
The fire demon nodded and tightened the chains around the sorcerer's waist. Dark red blood stained the robes around the tightened area, and the sorcerer cried out in pain.
"PLEASE! LET GO!" he cried out, feeling worse pain than he had felt in the pit. He took his staff and concentrated, trying with all his might not to scream bloody murder in the middle of the spell. "Hydrao tanré xeisànite! Hydrao tanré xeisànite!" the sorcerer clamored, focusing on extinguishing the flames, for the spell meant "Water is life."
A stream of water shot out of the staff and extinguished the flame as steam billowed into the air and a loud hiss escaped the steam. The vampire cursed under his breath. More water was splashed on the burns on the sorcerer's arms, back, and waist, which were red-raw and bleeding and very sensitive to the touch.
"Bind him up in the normal chains, Skullmeramon," commanded Myotismon, who was now more wrathful than Necromamon had ever seen him. "And to you, if you don't do as I command, I shall personally see you become my permanent attack target."
The fire demon hurled a long silver chain at the sorcerer, and it tightened near where the burns were, and part of it landed right on the burns. The sorcerer winced as he felt its harsh touch against himself and felt slightly nauseous from the pain he was going through. Suddenly, he was pushed forward and stumbled along the path as he was led to an old laboratory with no windows and covered in dark gray stone. In the middle was an empty black cauldron suspended over a pit of flames, now inactive. Covering the walls were wooden shelves upon wooden shelves of vials and beakers full of strange liquid, neatly kept piles of strange ingredients, and ancient spellbooks written in an old text, some of which in an obscure language.
"Why am I here?" questioned Necromamon.
The vampire glared at him, strode over to a shelf, grabbed a metal-bound red spellbook with yellowing pages, opened it, and thrust it in the sorcerer's face. Written on the yellowed paper in black ink was a recipe for a customized metamorphosis potion. Skullmeramon undid the chains, grabbed the staff, and cuffed the sorcerer's hands together.
"Necromamon," said Myotismon, "as the only sorcerer around this castle, you are the only one who is truly able to concoct this metamorphosis potion."
The sorcerer shot him a look full of malice before his hand started glowing. Even the fire demon produced a flame chain as a threat. He decided he had no choice.
"Demidevimon will be assisting you," continued the vampire. The imp flew into the laboratory and saluted. Then he cackled, seeing the sorcerer in handcuffs. "Now create the dark-digivolving potion before Skullmeramon chains you up in flames."
The sorcerer winced and stared at the shelves full of potions. Then he looked at the text, which was written as a dead language with potion names which were obscure even to a sorcerer like himself. But he did know that it was a dark-digivolving spell as well as a transformation spell. He saw a huge vat full of saved dark-digivolving potion.
"Skullmeramon, pour the dark-digivolving potion into the cauldron and start the fire," he reluctantly directed.
The fire demon grunted as he lifted the heavy vat and poured every last drop of the brown liquid into the cauldron. He let a small fireball fly out from his fingertips, and orange flames shot out from under the cauldron, filling the room with a slight warmth as they crackled in the air.
"For special metamorphosis," he shakily translated (knowing that if he got the spell wrong, Myotismon would surely kill him in the most painful way), "the most vital ingredient is the dried root of the… the…" He stopped, wondering if such a digimon existed anymore. "The dried root of the… SpiceVeggiemon…"
Demidevimon flew over to one of the shelves, studied the labels intently, grabbed a glass vial with a brown powder inside, and dropped it into Necromamon's hand. "Hee hee, it's extinct now!" he exclaimed.
Necromamon read on, collecting glass vials full of clear, ill-smelling liquids and a small corked bottle containing nothing more than a few drops of an odorless liquid which glowed an unearthly green color. There were solid ingredients like dried yellow flowers, red crystals, and even the small preserved liver of a rare lizard digimon.
Then came the most arduous task— measuring everything out. Did the word demiionsa mean scruple or dram? A trail of sweat trickled down the sorcerer's forehead as he racked his brain for the answer. He finally remembered that the translation for scruple was miniionsa. Then his hand shook as he sifted the powder onto an old-fashioned metal scale and desperately tried to reach the right weight. The scale seemed to blur in front of his face, making his work extra difficult. And Myotismon practically breathing hot breath down the back of his neck made the task even more burdensome.
He scooped up every last speck of the powder and carefully sifted it into the brew, turning it a brilliant blue and abruptly bathing everything in the room a fluorescent blue for three seconds before a puff of blue smoke billowed into the air and the concoction so far began to boil, turn gray, and fill the air with the scent of spice and grass mixed with the stenchful dark-digivolving potion.
The next thing that occurred was to correctly measure out the other ingredients and put in the correct amount of drops. He shakingly counted every drop that dripped out of the vials. He added the right number of flowers and dropped the liver in at the right time. The mixture changed colors, from saffron yellow, to black, to black mixed with a deep crimson, to stone gray.
"The mixture must boil for five minutes, no more, no less," read the sorcerer. "The transformation is open to customize the likeness of the victim— VICTIM??!!" Necromamon blinked and looked terrified. Then, seeing Skullmeramon and his fire chain, he decided not to take any chances and resumed his reading. "And to transform the victim correctly, the correct potion of physical appearance is vital." He shakingly turned the page, causing a few flakes of paper to fall out of the book. There were different potions to determine the physical appearance and the soul within.
"I'll take it from here, slave," said Myotismon, taking the book out of the sorcerer's hands, leaving him and Skullmeramon to watch the potion in its final stages. He went over to the shelves, running his finger along it until he finally came to the one he desired to add. He found the exact ingredients he needed for Gatomon's transformation. Then he muttered an incantation.
"Conimasina té metarii ei ori psaton… Metarii, clumiait ori dipeiti! Debau, DOMÉ!!" He poured every last drop of the liquid into the mixture, causing foul stenches and sweet fragrances to erupt from the cauldron into the air and mix together. Then the vampire read every last word, searching for the type of transformation he wished to give Gatomon. "To give the victim your own likeness, add to the potion three hairs from your head and six drops of your blood…" He plucked three blonde hairs from the three stray bangs that always hung in his face, and he removed his glove and pricked his finger with his fangs, squeezing six drops of dark reddish-purple blood into the potion. Then Myotismon put the three hairs in the mixture, with a puzzled Necromamon wondering why he was doing all this.
The second the last hair was dropped in, the potion boiled and sent black smoke billowing into the air, clouding the entire laboratory and obliterating Necromamon's view. The lights went out, with the only glow coming from the cauldron. Bright red light glowed from the potion, bathing the entire area in a bright crimson. Myotismon looked especially sinister as the light reflected off his pale face and he was evilly grinning. He took a large vial and dipped it into the mixture, which had turned a reddish-gray color. The steaming vial was corked as the fire died down and the smoke disappeared.
Necromamon coughed and saw the fire demon swinging his fiery chains and the vampire with his potion for Gatomon. Suddenly, his handcuffs were put on a chain, which Skullmeramon held. The sorcerer felt a disturbing wave of heat wash over him as the fire demon grew closer towards him.
"Take him to the throne room," dictated Myotismon, putting his glove back on and tightly holding the huge vial of potion. "It's the best place where he can see the transformation." He darkly chuckled and exited the room, with the fire demon following behind him, tugging on the chain and holding the staff far out of reach, nearly melting it.
Incantemon… oniisan… brother… thought the sorcerer, concentrating. Please… if you're out there, listen to me! I cannot rescue you; I am bound in chains and my staff is far out of reach. You must escape the prison on your own. I have faith in you, I regret having to make the potion for transforming Gatomon, but my life was at stake and I had no choice… I must rescue you, and I promise if I ever escape these chains—
The sound of a slamming steel door awoke him from his delivery of the message to his brother. He found himself being locked into a large enough cage to stand in, with Skullmeramon welding the lock shut by melting it.
"Phantomon, bring me the victim!" commanded Myotismon from his towering throne.
The phantom burst in through two tall doors and flew along the red-and-gold carpet, dragging Gatomon along the floor. Gatomon was chained up and struggling to break free.
"GATOMON!" screamed the sorcerer, stretching his hand and forcing it between the bars of the cage, squeezing the burns and making them bleed again.
"Necromamon, I thought you would understand," said the cat, looking at him with her cerulean blue eyes. "It pains me to know you can't be a data again, so I will change myself so we can suffer together. If I must be Ladydevimon, then so be it!"
Tears streamed down the sorcerer's gray cheeks out of misery. Gatomon, who had saved his life, was about to do yet another noble deed just for him. And this was more than saving a life; it was sacrificing her own likeness to be a virus like him.
Phantomon floated up to the vampire and took the vial of reddish-gray liquid out of his hand. Then he dropped it at Gatomon's front paws and uncorked it. Steam rose up into the air as the cat eyed it suspiciously.
"I always knew you would try to poison me, Myotismon," she said.
"It's not poison," said Myotismon. "It's the key to your transformation."
Necromamon screamed out in his mind for Gatomon to not drink it, for it must have been poison. Still, Gatomon eyed the vial and lifed it up, bringing it to her mouth. The sorcerer pleaded for her not to, and even started shaking his head and mouthing "Don't do it!" to her. The cat might have caught her friend's eye because she backed away. Myotismon shot her a dirty look, mumbling something to the phantom.
"I thought you wanted to be a virus, Gatomon," said Phantmon in his eerie voice, flying over to where the cat was and bringing her into an upright position with her mouth wide open, petrifying her and pouring the contents of the vial, every last drop of it, into her mouth.
"NO!" Necromamon screamed.
Coughing and sputtering, Gatomon swallowed every last drop, and a strange feeling overcame her from head to toe. Her tail disappeared, and so did her precious tail ring. Her fur fell out as she gasped for more air. Suddenly, Gatomon grew taller and into a human shape. A red light engulfed her, making her only a shadow seen by Necromamon. The vampire was watching the transformation intently, anticipating the outcome he had planned.
"Gatomon, dark digivolve to…"
The shadow in the red light appeared to grow into a woman, with what looked like a shadow of a cape preventing anyone from seeing the other physical transformation. Finally, the red light disappeared to reveal Gatomon's new dark digivolution.
"LADY MYOTISMON!" she exclaimed in a different voice that sounded a lot like Ladydevimon's. She had pale skin and waist-length blonde hair, and was wearing a red-and-black cape that looked like her male counterpart's joined together by a ruby clasp, a revealing blue sleveless mini-dress that looked a lot like Myotismon's suit, elbow-length red gloves, tall black boots, and even a red mask. Lady Myotismon grinned, revealing that she also had fangs. Necromamon gasped at this sight.
"What have they done to you?" he finally managed to ask.
"Necromamon…" The vampire lady went over to the sorcerer's cage and knelt down. She started to cry and tears fell on Necromamon's hands. "I wished to be like you… I'm still Gatomon within."
The sorcerer stared into Lady Myotismon's eyes. Her eyes were the very eyes of Gatomon, the bewitching cerulean blue eyes that gave a view into her gentle soul. Still one thing was on his mind. Will Kari know?
To be continued…
