By Vimmy Dramon
It was the middle of the night. He knew the time by the toll of
a church clock in the not too far distance.
He had been taught how to tell the time by his good friend, Kelsen. How he missed
Kelsen now in the middle of the night. The bonds which had held him for so long
now broken, yet they had left their mark upon his fur-covered skin indelibly
etched in to his life. At least until he found Kelsen.
The creature, for that is how he had always been described, ran like never before
- a sprint at top speed - he had been doing so for the best part of ten minutes.
He could feel a tightness building up in his chest now, a tightness that threatened
to take over and stop him altogether.
Suddenly, in front of him, the creature could see some kind of an object - he
couldn't quite make out it's shape - it was just an obscured blur, melded in
to incoherence by the darkness.
As he approached the object, he crouched and leapt with all his might, letting
out a small grunt with the effort. The leap set him sailing near twenty feet
in to the air over the object. He landed with a thud and another grunt on this
soft grass the other side.
As the creature disappeared in to the distance, a figure sat up on the object,
it was the figure of a derelict inebriated from cheap whiskey, asleep on the
park bench and awakened by the creatures precipitous flight.
"Crazzzzzzy dunk dirver" exclaimed the derelict in to the night, before
he lay back down and went to sleep.
The tightness in the creature's chest had now become nearly unbearable and
he had begun to wheeze heavily. Believing that he had afforded himself enough
of a time gap between him and his captors to allow himself a small break, he
slowed his pace coming to a rest by a memorial in the centre of the park.
He breathed heavily, expanding his velvet covered chest to maximum with each
inhalation, filling his lungs with air polluted from the previous day's drivers.
In the lab, the air had been totally purified to the point where he'd been breathing
almost pure Oxygen. the pollution in the air now made him feel light headed
and a little queasy. After a moment of gathering himself, he heard the noise
of splashing water and thought he may feel better if he splashed himself down
and cooled off. The air was very hot tonight and humid with it, making every
movement an effort now that the initial exertion and adrenaline had been spent.
The creature walked towards the sound of the water and in a few paces found
himself at the bank. He looked out across the expanse before him. It was a large
lake and the presence of white and brown feathers scattered hither and dither
marked the it as being inhabited by ducks and swans.
He knelt down on all fours and moved his head, eyes closed, over the lake and
plunged his face then head in to the cool waters. He held his breath for a minute
feeling the cold, crisp but non-too-clean water soaking through his fur to cool
his skin beneath, releaving the prickling of hot sweat that had begun seeping
through his pores before surfacing. He watched the surface ripples on the water
die down and an image began to form there, lit up by the moonlight appearing
through a stark gash in the clouds.
The face that stared back at him had a snout with long ears and big reddish-brown
eyes. It was covered in a light layer of velvet-like white fur on the muzzle
and blue fur around the back of the head, as was the rest of his body.
He allowed himself a small smile. It had been a long time since he'd seen that
face. Long enough to almost forget what it looked like. Kelsen wouldn't have
forgotten though. This was his plan for the most part. He had arranged the distraction
and the meeting place, but the rest was up to the creature.
As the surface calmed completely, the creature could make out the fine details
of his face. It was marked with numerous wounds of varying sizes and severity.
The most severe of which he remembered as having nearly cost him the sight in
his left eye, but he had recovered... just.
At a sound behind him, the creature leapt to his feet and spun round, scanning
the night for any threat.
He saw nothing.
Then the glint of the moon sparked off of a metallic object trying to hide it's
self in the flowered to his left.
Fear instantly gripped him by the spine, rooting him to the spot by absolute
terror. He had no idea they could move so fast, he couldn't have stopped for
more than three minutes. He took up a defensive stance, just like Kelsen had
taught him.
The thing in the flowered realised that it had been seen and gave up trying
to hide to make it's self known. As it came forth from the petals, it's mirror-like
skin reflected his expression and enhanced it with the moonlight. The thing
was about a foot long and looked very much like a Grasshopper, except that it's
skin was a perfect mirror, contoured tightly around a thin skelital frame beneath
and the entire body formed a huge mouth with rows and rows of decaying teeth.
On the outside, it looked perfect but beneath the skin was a heart of evil.
"I thought I'd seen the last of you, Cenomon". said the creature in
a rich, solemn voice. A voice that matched well with the colour of his eyes.
Mysterious, dark and reddish-brown.
"I'm not that easy to run from, Flamedramon. Did you really think you could
escape the complex? If so, then you are a fool!" The Cenomon's voice was
metallic, high-pitched and grated like broken glass and gravel.
"So you're here to re-capture me then". It was not a question, Flamedramon
knew that the Cenomons would seek out their target with machine-like efficiency.
Although they were essentially organic, as far as Digimon go anyway.
"No, just to hold you here".
"For what?" Flamedramon was confused, normally the order would be
'capture and retrieve', not 'keep amused'.
Before the Cenomon could reply, another voice joined in the conversation, Deep
and rumbling.
"For me!".
Flamedramon froze and he began to sweat in earnest as pure terror filled his
heart and held him in place more surely than any bond could ever hope.
A minute of absolute silence followed, broken only by the occasional chirruping
of Cicadas in the grass.
"Wh . . . Why . . . " Flamedramon stammered, trying to re-gain control
of his fear-paralysed body.
"Why am I here? Well, I thought that since my most precious and valuable
specimen was on the run from me I'd come along to retrieve IT myself".
"I am NOT a THING for you to Play with!" Flamedramon's eyes narrowed
in dark anger and be bared his teeth, flashing the sharp white incisors at his
former-captors.
"Oh, I think you are. Especially since your 'Best' friend deserted you
to save his own pathetic skin".
Tears began to well up in Flamedramon's eyes and a lump developed in his throat,
choking his efforts to breath and speak.
"Kelsen wouldn't leave me - not unless YOU'D forced him!"
The being spoke in a bored 'Tired of this conversation' tone. "If that's
what you wish to believe, then go ahead. But it'll make the return to the Complex
all that more painful". Now, the being began to walk slowly but purposefully
towards Flamedramon, it's all-encompasing cloak flowing about it's body as if
it were floating in water, unaffected by wind or gravity but following obediantly
whenever it's wearer and master moved. The Cenomon closed in form the other
direction.
Flamedramon suddenly found that his body had been freed from it's bond of fear
and he leapt in to the air towards the lake, If he could just get under the
water, he could swim to the other side and get a head-start on his pursers.
But then he heard the being's voice bark out to the Cenomon, "All right,
Stop him!".
The Cenomon scuttled forwards and sparks of electricity crackled up it's legs,
moving in towards the body. "HypnoVolt" it cried and a bolt of lightening
arched from it's body instantly striking Flamedramon in the centre of the back.
Flamedramon screamed in pain as he felt his body spasm and burn with the electricity,
for an instant he smelt the stench of burning fur and then his body went limp.
His vision turned in to a tunnel and begin to disappear completely. In those
last few seconds of conscious thought, he knew that when he next woke he'd be
manacled to a wall in a lab, once again being prepared for experimentation of
the most grotesque and disgusting kind, he had failed to get to Kelsen, he had
failed to break free. And weakly he becan to cry before his mind finally gave
in.
"ChainGrab" said the being, calmly. It held out it's hand and from
within it's sleeve shot six chains up in to the air towards Flamedramon. One
chain grabbed each of his arms and legs, another held on to his Tail and the
last grabbed him round the neck. The chains began lowering him slowly, inexorably
towards the ground.
The everything happened at once, the sound of sharp metal slicing metal filled
the air and the six chains supporting Flamedramon were severed, their limp ends
falling to the ground at the being's feet. The ends of the chains gripping on
to Flamedramon were gathered up and he was supported just before he hit the
water. The Cenomon was also sliced in two, it didn't even have time to scream
before it disappeared in a shower of data.
The being looked at the space before it. Two large claw-footed depressions were
visible in the ground.
"Huh, Why not come out and show yourself!" It called to the space
before it.
The voice that answered was young, wary of it's enemy.
"That would hardly do now would it. I can't have you following me, can
I!"
"I will find you anyway, it doesn't matter where you run to. I will
always be following you and I WILL get my specimen back!"
"Don't count on it!"
With that, the sound of wind beneath wings filled the air and Flamedramon, along
with his invisible saviour, lifted in to the sky and disappeared in to the night.
The being raised a sleeve to it's eyes and shielded them against the dirt and
gravel flung up by the take-off. It paused by the lake for a moment before turning
and walking off in to the night.
As it reached the Memorial, it saw the figure of a human peering out from behind
the stone obelisk. The being held out it's excuse for a hand - It was more like
a claw, a twisted rotten thing that could once have been quite regal by the
way in which it's owner presented it, but was now so much indescernable bio-matter
- towards the human.
The human, finding himself discovered stepped forwards. It was the derelict
from the bench. He had been awakened from his drunken slumber by the flash of
lightening created when the Cenomon attacked and crept up to watch proceedings
unfold, shielded by the stone representing his fore-fathers. Not that he would
have cared. To him a rock was a rock, wether it be carved by nature's rough
hand or man's own delicate instruments and design. He had long-ago given up
caring about why the world was how it was, and why it had treated him how it
had. His mind was now perminantly sunk in a swirling pool of alchohol going
from times of semi-lucidity to complete stupor.
The being spoke softly to the derelict, the broken glass and gravel tone it
had used when addressing it's specimin had been dipped in syrup until it was
dripping with soft inviting melodies, yet somewhere beneath the syrup the hardness
was still there. "Don't fear me. Join me and I can fulfil your dreams".
The derelict hesitated for a moment, his sluggish mind working at the words,
trying to interpret them from behind the misty curtain of alchohol. You could
in some ways concider him fortunate that it had been some time since his last
drowning in sweet liquor, and his mind had slipped back in to semi-lucid thought
for an all-too rare moment of what passed in his brain for clarity. After a
moment's hesitation, his mind was made up and he pushed himself from his supportive
stance at the emorial, steadying himself on legs that seemed to be made of warm
jelly that wanted to go in a completly different direction to the one in which
he was pointing, before staggering towards the being using the Memorial for
support to his whiskey-soaked movements. He placed his hand in the being's and
smiled, showing unhealthy teeth, black with drawn gums. It was obviously many
many months since a drop of Vitamin C had passed his lips, his eyes glistening
with a moistness of hope. The next second, chains shot out from the being's
sleeve and completely engulfed the derelict from head to toe, stifling his cries
for help and forcing him in to a rigid posture. "Another meat-puppet for
my experiments, you are privileged" the being smiled maliciously, the syrup
washed off it's precious glass and gravel as the chains bore the derelict's
prone form in to the night sky and on to the complex where more Cenomon would
take care of it's preparation ready for the being's return.