A/N: hey everyone it's been a while * laughs nervously * really I am so sorry for how long this has taken. I have had more trouble on this fic than anything else I have ever written. Usually my fics kind of write themselves, but this one seems to be shy, and not quite ready to do it all on it's own. Anyway I apologies for the wait and I thank all of you who have reviewed and stuck around.
Hopefully this chapter won't be a let down, it's much longer than the others. Also there will be little constancy on updates and length of chapters on this fic. So I apologies in advance for that.
Here is a little something you should know that I meant to put on my last chapter but forgot.
Spectermon: according to Webster a specter is a "visible incorporeal spirit; one of terrifying nature; ghost; phantom; apparition; or some object or force of terror or dread." I wasn't planing on making up any digimon for this fic, but the only thing close to a female apparition digimon was Harpymon, and she just wasn't wicked enough for me.
Eidolonmon: an eidolon is an unreal image; phantom; or apparition.
And actually Tranye, Eidolomon was inspired * okay you're going to laugh * but it was inspired by the Ghost of Christmas Future in a Muppet's Christmas Carol.
Disclaimer: don't own Digimon, hard as I try.
Prisoner of The Night
Part Four: Frostbitten
Here I stand, Empty Hands
Wishing my Wrist were Bleeding
To stop the Pain from the Beatings
Red Sam, by Passerby
The sounds of silence filled the room. A song of loneliness lulled the child in and out of dreamless sleeps. Imprisoned in the oubliette the boy felt nothing. There was no fear of his phantom captives, and no desire to escape or even move from his place in the center of the circular dungeon. He lay crumpled and defeated; his body cold and cadaverous.
His hair and skin were no longer caked with dried mud and blood, but were now clean and glimmering in the glow of many torches. His torn and stained clothes had been removed while he slept and replaced by a simple pair of black cotton scrubs. He didn't know what happened, he only shut his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again everything had been wiped clean. His now clean and combed golden hair fell about his spiritless face as his entrancing dark blue eyes stared dully at the circular ceiling above.
"Matt I promise we'll spend sometime together during the weekend."
The agitated voice circled his mind, causing the sounds of silence to be forgotten.
"You always say that but you never keep to your word. You don't care! Hell you probably don't even know I'm alive!"
He physically winced as the memory of what happened next played out in his mind. The feeling of his father's large hand slapping him across his right check caused tears to gather in his otherwise apathetic eyes.
"I hate you!"
He was on the ground now; the shock of the unsuspected blow had forced him to the ground. His father had never hit him before, and would never hit or punish him again.
"I hate you, I want to go live with mom!"
The words were cried out spitefully at the shaking man towering above him.
"Matt, I'm so sorry,"
The man apologized while fighting back the tears glistening in his own dark eyes. Slowly, uncertainly, he bent down by his son, trying to comfort him.
"Don't touch me."
The nine-year-old hissed out darkly, warning the man away. The man pulled back in pain, knowing that he had destroyed what little faith his son had left for him.
"Matt please,"
The man pleaded for his son to just look at him, but his efforts were futile, his son would never look up to his father again.
"I want to go live with mom!"
The boy demanded again from his place on the floor.
"Well you're mother doesn't want you!"
The boy gasped at the harsh reply, feeling the words rip through his heart like dull rusted blades. His mother didn't want him; his father didn't like to be around him, he was a mistake.
The man stood up shaking, immediately self-hatred took over as he realized what he had just yelled. One unchecked moment and his irritation led him to say words sharper than knives. His son would never shine again, his spirit had been ripped from his body, and now he was hallow, an empty shell.
"Matt I…"
He began, not certain of what to say, not knowing how to make it all better. His son still would not look at him and he felt defeated, he had lost him forever; a wall had been built between them.
"I have to go to work,"
The man stated sadly, he just didn't know how to make it all better. With no more words exchanged he grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door, while trying to block out the image of his son's corpse.
The boy kept his eyes upon the floor. He remained there until the echo of his front door being shut and locked had died out of the apartment. He then lifted his head and looked hard at the front door, resentment and hurt filling his once sparkling gaze.
Then his shoulders began to tremble and he fell to the ground, allowing the tears to fall freely as he wrapped himself into a ball and cried.
"I don't want to be alone…"
Crystal droplets slid slowly down the blonde's pale checks. His vapid eyes continued to stare at the atrabilious air above him as though he saw something that no other sight could touch.
I don't want to be alone. They never wanted me, I was a mistake. Before mom got pregnant with me they had the perfect relationship. I've heard the stories, they'd go to work every day, both in love with their careers, and they'd call each other at lunch time or send flowers to one another, stupid stuff like that. Then they'd come home put on some jazz music, mom would cook a romantic diner for two, and they open a bottle of red wine. Sometimes they'd even stay up all night just so they could watch the sunrise together. I've heard all of those stupid mushy stories. They were perfected together, then I can along and everything changed…
The oubliette was a very unusual prison. Unlike the damp dark dungeons you usually see associated with gothic palaces, this dungeon was clean and strangely beautiful. There were no rats to gnaw away at prisoner's flesh, no filthy decay to invade the prisoner's nostrils and stomach with sickness, and no cold bare earth to lay upon. Instead the room was a cylinder with the ceiling standing many stories above the floor like a tower. The walls were smooth and perfectly crafted. They were made of black bricks and you could run your hand completely around the room and never once find a crack or uneven level.
About five feet above the floor was a ring of glass placed into the wall. The ring of glass was two feet high and reached all around the room. Placed behind this round window were many torches. The torches stood within the wall, and their light illuminated the circular room with a dim glow. What was so amazing about these torches and the glass placed within the wall, was the fact that the torches never burn out and the glass never gets dirty. Always clear flames would shine from the window.
What was left of the room was hardly miraculous, there was the ceiling, which was barely noticeable admits the darkness. Then there was the floor. The floor was made up of many one square inch tiles, which made up a pattern of black wings with an unusual symbol in the center of them. Matt didn't recognize the symbol, it didn't appear to be a crest, and it was more like a marking. The bottom of the symbol mad a point while the top branched out in two different directions, making the shape of angel wings.
Demon wings on the outside and angel wings within. Does that mean that within every evil there is some good, or does it mean that all light will be conquered and swallowed by darkness? Not that it matters either way, why should I care about good or evil.
"Because TK is good and he is fighting evil."
He doesn't need me.
"But you need him."
I needed him to live. I don't need him to die. I want to die alone; I want him to be free of me.
"He can never be free of you, nor can you be free of him, he's your brother. And the others, they are your friends."
NO! I don't have any friends; they're all better off without me. I'm not going to make them suffer any longer. They're all better off without me, TK's better off without me, I'm a mistake.
A shiver ran up the blonde's spin as he realized for the first time how cold he was, lying bareback upon the tile floor. He still didn't understand why they had taken his clothes, nor could he figure out why they had yet to kill him, but he was certain his death would come soon.
Why would the darkness want me? My own parents didn't even want me. The world would be better off if I would just disappear; I would be better off if I just died. There's no room in a world of perfection for a mistake.
~*~*~
A dismal fog, impenetrable by the necked or common eye, hung low in the air. It blanketed the moist muddy forest floor in an obstruction of uncertainty. Reaching out of the suffocating mist were grotesque, aged trees, with twisted and rotten branches and crisp ash colored leaves. The bare, or nearly bare, branches of the timber resembled bony starved hands, reaching desperately out of their prison beneath the shielding fog. Begging for the feeling of the sun's warm rays upon their limbs, and craving a breathe of pure air, not polluted like the poisonous mist which slowly decayed their form and killed their foliage.
The ground below was soft and easily sunken into. The high moisture levels in the air sank each nigh into the ground, leaving the soil as tainted as the mist and causing the poor dying trees to sink into an early grave of toxic mud. No wind, no matter how great, could find its way into the forest that day, and so there was nothing to relieve the captive trees from their suffering. The ground below hungered for the taste of living timber breathing last breaths in its locked jaw. The sunless sky continued ceiling in all inhabitants of the dreary world in an atmosphere of darkness. And the mist clung to every living and none living object in the forest, trying to poison them as it was poisoned. This truly was a world of nightmares, and a prison to all that fall under darkness' spell.
As most of the trees sang a silent song of their death, which was to come, one tree suddenly sprang to life. Branches shook for a moment and the few crisp leaves, which still clung to their limbs, rattled together as their branches were disturbed. First it was a branch high up in the crown of the tree, then the branch below, and then another, until the disturber had descended from the clean air above into the fog below. One of the lowest branches in the old tree vibrated for a moment, sending a few black and gray leaves to the forest floor, then went still and no other branches shook with activity.
Upon the branch no being could be seen for the body of the disturber was as dark as a moonless night. The creature flopped down almost irritably upon its final branch, and then an agitated sigh shattered the silence of the dead wood, as a small breathe pushed some of the fog away from a dainty feline face. Whiskers twitched as though they were attempting to bat away the meddlesome fog, and a long tail swayed back and forth in a mesmerizing dance.
"I am growing tried of this!" the feline grunted, despite the fact that no one could hear her.
'I've been searching for that stupid little trinket for nearly three days now, and still I have found no sight of it. I know it's crucial in our plans, and I am honored that Spectermon trusted me with such a task, but this is getting ridiculous!' the black cat-like creature both complained and mused in her mind, no longer finding it necessary to voice her thoughts to the empty forest.
Deciding that sitting around and complaining was not going to bring her further to her goal, the cat stood back up, lazily stretched out her front legs, then scanned over the area around her.
Large mischievous feline eyes began to glow, changing from a bright marine blue to an icy steal blue. The glowing orbs looked like polished blue metal, and they pierced the fog like lighting blots. The mist twisted and fought defiantly at the creature and her spell, but in the end the elements were of no match to the superior abilities of the champion digimon, and the mist thinned out quickly in defeat.
The black champion sneered half pleased with her own show of power, and half-disgusted with the sight the faded mist revealed. The glowing steal blue eyes quickly brightened back into a gleeful bright blue, and then the sparkling orbs narrowed upon the forest floor in a threatening stare. The digimon was horrified by what she saw upon the forest floor. Decrepit rotten timber crawling with ravenous maggots and termites. Sticky sickening mud that clung to everything it touched, and lastly forsaken bones, of various digimon who had been foolish enough to wander into the life thirsty woods.
BlackGatomon's noise twisted in repulse. "If I get so much as one speck of dust on my beautiful fur coat, then I am going to be greatly angered." She spat at the elements around her, daring them to even attempt to attack her with their filth.
Finally deciding that the forest knew its place, the cat swiftly leapt from her place on the lower branch of one tree and landed on a higher branch on the tree across from it.
For another half-hour the minion continued her search, jumping from tree to tree, and clearing the fog wherever she went. She tried to keep her spirit up by humming a tone and thinking about all of the beautiful destruction that was to come, but after a while her agitation returned, as she found her labors producing no fruit.
'I must find this crest, I'm running out of time.' Feeling a new sense of urgency, BlackGatomon went where DeviTamamon was foolish enough to brake his deal with Spectermon and injured their prey.
She stood upon a thick tree branch which loomed over the cite and looked down desperately.
'I have already been over this area today, but maybe there's something I missed.'
Nothing had changed since her first visit to the clearing, and no sign of the crest could be seen.
The feline crawled cautiously further down the limb, her eyes were narrowed upon the spot where blood was shed, and darkness glistened in her eyes as she smiled revealing her thin but remarkable sharp teeth.
'There was a power here, though dim as it was, I can definitely sense some association with the boy. But how could I have missed this earlier?'
Her ears twitched thoughtfully as the champion tried to unravel the mystery behind the crest and its current location.
'Some one must have put a spell on the area so that no one could feel the lingering presence of the boy's power. Who ever did this is very bold and will pay dearly for delaying my mission.'
She closed her eyes, shutting her sight off of the visible world, and opening another door within her senses. Her paws pulled into determined fist as she fought against the powers of both the forest and the spell placed upon the area.
She was running through a maze with walls as high as heaven and all made of mirror. At first the mirrors only reflected her own image, but as she journeyed through the maze, treading lightly upon the glass floor, and remaining aware of every turn she made, the reflection slowly began to change. The scenes within the mirror shifted, and she slowly traced her way back. At first it was her sitting in the tree staring at the clearing, then she was gone and the forest floor was blanketed in fog, showing that she had yet to arrive and chase the mist out. Hours flew by like seconds, and she watched closely as nothing changed. The mist occasionally thinned out and then would thicken again, but other than that it seemed that the clearing received no visitors besides the black cat.
More images flashed by as time went in reverse. Now it was nighttime, and the darkness brought by night made the caligounous of day seem as bright and warm as a clear summer's eve. The hours past and never did the moon grace the black velvet sky with its silver light.
The feline watched as last midnight appeared before her, all was still, but as the images continued to change and the night went into ten o'clock something happened. There was suddenly as shadow in the distance. Time passed, and the shadow approached the clearing, until at last the champion could make out the silhouette's identity. It was a Karatemon, the champion digimon slowly got closer and BlackGatomon growled in anger as the scene played in reverse. Karatemon was the one who placed the spell upon the area, and in his hand he clutched the Crest of Friendship, a trinket that should be in the hands of her mistress, Spectermon, not some worthless underling.
BlackGatomon's anger grew as she watched Kartemon's actions in reverse, right up until the time of his arrival. Finally her rage had reached it's full, and the mirrors around her began to crack then shatter from the energy flowing from the evil cat digimon. The glass shattered and crashed around her, and the sounds disrupted her concentration, sending her back to her reality and the dreary forest.
BlackGatomon blinked a few times, clearing her mind of the image she had just seen. Once she felt herself composed she looked around the clearing again. Already the fog had crept back into its place above the ground, and without the feline's spell to keep it away, it would remain, a poison to the forest until no woods remained.
'So a Karatemon took the crest, how very… intriguing. Who would possibly have the audacity to undermine Mephistomon and Spectermon? Who ever it is must be very courageous, or simply foolish. No matter, I will track down this annoyance with raven wings and make him pay for causing me such grief.'
The feline jumped from tree to tree, moving through the life-thirsty forest in search of a life that she might devour.
~*~*~
What can be said about a broken home? You can say it's a shame, a pity, and a grief. You can give it so many sad titles, like painful, tragic, shocking, but you can never call it a mistake. Divorce is never a mistake. Marriage now that's the mistake, that's where the problems begin. So many happy couples are killed, ruined, and spoiled by the simple words "I do".
Matt rolled on his side and curled up into a ball. He tried to look small, maybe even invisible, but he was certain that whatever archfiend had brought him there would not forget about him, no matter how small he tried to become. Trepid and chilled deep into the bones, the blonde tried not to focus on how lost and confused he felt. No one explained to him why he was here and what they planed to do with him, he was left alone in a pit of wintry air. He rarely felt this cold, or this overtaken by bedevilment.
What could they want with me?
The questioned circled his mind like ominous storm clouds above. Some how he knew the rain would soon fall and the lighting would soon crash. It was only a matter of time before the threatening clouds above released their elements upon him, and the thought frightened him. He tried to avoid thinking about what could be coming next, but the thoughts, which took the questions' places, were neither comforting nor welcoming.
Divorce is never where couples go wrong, it's matrimony that shatters their relationship and feelings. I remember after the divorce was final and everything had settled down, my father would tell his friends he's so much happier now. He was so better off now that the "crazy woman" was out of his life. He'd tell them that all his cares and worries had evaporated, much like his love for my mother.
Dad loved mom; he was only trying to fool himself when he said he was better off without her. He loved her, needed her… they need each other, but he just wouldn't except that.
The boy shut his eyes tightly, believing that maybe his mind would cease its pondering if only he blocked out the nourishing light coming from the torches. But it didn't work. His anger and disappointment for his father only grew until it reflected upon his mother.
Mom wasn't any better. The few times I was invited over there, all she'd do is ask me how my father was doing, and what he was doing. She'd ask how his life was deteriorating. She'd exclaim how pathetic he must be without her around, and then she'd talk about all of her many accomplishments. She'd declare that the world was now her oyster, and everything was fine, better than fine, everything was perfect.
I guess life is perfect when you don't have me around…
A rigid cough forced its way out of the young boy's throat. Every time he breathed, a cloud of icy air tore down his throat and expanded in his lungs. The slits of icy rubbed like sand upon his throat, making it raw and worn.
But everything they'd say, every time they'd boast about their new, wonderful life; I knew it was all a lie. Just an illusion, much like their love. The problems didn't go away just because they no longer had to face them together, and neither was happier. They both still struggled with finances, the stress to stay out of debt, and to constantly have more than the other was a lot heavier than the stress of marriage.
They both fell apart; they're both still falling apart.
His eyelids fluttered for a moment before the blonde finally opened his eyes. For a while the blue orbs stared lifelessly at the wall across from him. For a moment peace swept over him as he felt all thoughts leave his mind, and the whole of him, right down to his soul, went numb. The feeling was amazing and the troubled boy was grateful for the brake from misery, but unfortunately all good things must come to an end, and he soon found himself drifting back into a sea of painful questions and haunting fears.
I wonder what they think when they think of me. TK was a trophy child, completely content to stand at my mother's side and be the perfect little angel that every mother dreamed of. I'm glad that he can do it too, my brother deserves to be loved and noticed, unlike me, he's worthy of love. I never did anything to deserve love. I was the withdrawn one, no body likes an aloof little kid, it makes them seem… hateful. But I never really hated anyone; I just didn't know how to handle myself in a manner that would draw attention. So I was deemed depressed and resentful… who would have ever thought that I'd actually grow into those titles? It's amazing how someone can tell you something so many times that eventually even you believe it.
But none of that matters, a mistake can only strive to be what everyone else wants them to be, what else do they have but impossible expectation to meet.
He curled up even more, his face buried by his arms, and soon his breathing began to even out.
I think that's why I never asked my parents for anything. I never demanded their attention because I knew I could never deserve it. Well I did ask one time, and that was the only time…
The memories threatened to resurface, but before they could arise, bringing torment with them, the young boy drifted off. At last he found rest deep in the dark corners of his mind. There he hid, and there he slept in peace.
~*~*~
"Here birdy… birdy… birdy… Here birdy… birdy… birdy… come out, come out wherever your are…" a tantalizing voice chimed seductively.
BlackGatomon had been following the scent of the Karatemon for over an hour, and her hunt had led her out of the dying forest and high onto the Diablery Cliffs. The Diablery Cliffs were walls of razor sharp stone, which stood high above the dark ocean.
The feline digimon crawled slowly unto a dirt mound and then leapt to a large stone elevation. Her blue eyes sparkled with pride as she watched the obscure waves of the black water beat heavily upon the cliffs. The waves would wash up, drenching the black rocks then pull back, revealing a multitude of sharp rocks sticking dangerously out of the water. With each tide the rocks below grew sharper and more deadly as the brine sanded them down like the point on a spear.
The champion digimon smiled wickedly as she thought about how entertaining it would be to see another creature fall onto the rocks below, then shook her head clearing her mind of the pleasurable daydream, and returned her focus to her mission. She hadn't journeyed such a great distance just to see the glorious sights in her world, she had a job to complete.
'I have to find the unfortunate Karatemon who dared to anger me.'
Reminding herself of her task, she continued to walk the cliffs, knowing that her prey was still near. The only thing she could assume was that the Karatemon was already very tiered from his search to find the crest, and was in no condition to travel across the ocean to whatever continent his master waited at.
"Here little birdy…" the black cat called sweetly as she crawled over the cliffs, remaining alert and cautious as she moved.
Her whiskers twitched a bit as she sniffed the air, then her eyes slanted and narrowed as she caught the scent of her prey.
'He's resting near by, what a fool, he should have known that some one would come after the crest.'
The champion continued to move forward, her black coat caused her to merge with the shadows perfectly. The caliginous sky and ebony rock concealed the huntress and with each step her body began to thin out. Soon all color faded from her form, and her paws and tail became as black as night. As her body thinned and her color darkened, the cat quickened her pace. Soon she was moving so quickly that her feet never seemed to actually touch the ground. She was like a wild spirit, moving as though the limitation of the natural world had no effect upon her. She was like the shadows themselves, no form, and simply darkness.
However, unlike the rest of her body, her eyes remained visible. The marine blue orbs slowly began to change in color and design, until they were a cold steel blue. It looked like a great darkness had captured the moon and swallowed it whole, and now the bluish-silver light was seeking freedom. The light pored out of the cat's eyes in a dangerous glow of power.
'The little birdy is near.'
Further down the cliffs, resting openly upon the black stone floor was the Karatemon, which the cat-like creature sought. The winged warrior was stretched out and resting up for the difficult flight a head of him. His thoughts and attention had long since drifted from his surroundings to the anticipation of receiving a grand award from his master for the great deed he had accomplished.
His eyes were closed while he daydreamed, and his breathing was even as he felt he had nothing to worry about. His spell upon the crest's original location was flawless and no creature could ever break it. By the time someone realized who had taken the crest he would already be across the ocean and in the safety of his master's company.
The wizard digimon smiled, gloating over his accomplishments, but unbeknownst to the comfortable virus, a predator was slowly approaching him. The black creature stalked the confidant Karatemon in the darkness, and the wizard simply rested, oblivious to his huntress.
BlackGatomon circled the Karatemon several times. To this excellent huntress the simple champion was a fool. Anyone carrying such a valuable device such as the Crest of Friendship, should execute more caution, but the Karatemon was overconfident, and truly felt that he had already won the battle.
The feline digimon ran a light pink tongue over her lips as she devised a plan to remove the crest from the wizard's possession.
'This shouldn't be too difficult.' She thought lazily to herself as she slowly moved in on the champion.
The cat still cloaked in shadow, was now but a step away from her target. Already she could feel the power of the crest, its ability to invoke evolution called to her, and she almost shuddered from the intensity of the power. Her paw slowly stretched out as she prepared to reach into the champion's brown pouch, where she knew the crest was kept. She was an inch away; her prize was within her grasp, when suddenly something stopped her. Her claws touched a barrier and instantly dark blue waves of energy flowed around the Karatemon like lighting.
BlackGatomon cursed silently at her own stupidity, then jumped back spiting spitefully at the barrier and the burn it left upon her paw.
Her concentration was lost and her body soon returned to normal. The shadows lifted from her, and there she stood exposed, cradling her injured paw, with steel blue eyes that clearly read "death".
The Karatemon began to stir the moment the barrier spell was disturbed; he then slowly stood up as though the attempted attack upon him was as irrelevant as an annoying fly buzzing around him.
Once the Karatemon was on his feet he turned to his attacker, his yellow eyes glaring coldly at the feline while an amused smile played upon his lips.
"I don't know what you were thinking, kitten, but attempting to rob me was a mistake." He stated smoothly, obviously not considering the feline to be much of a threat.
BlackGatomon dropped her paw then turned an icy stare upon the winged wizard. "Oh I intend to do much more than rob you, I intend to slaughter you for taking what is rightfully Spectermon's." she declared sweetly at first, but then her voice went cold and dark.
Karatemon stared blankly at his opponent for a moment then slowly began to chuckle.
The virus cat was more than agitated, now she was offended, a feeling which only made her more deadly.
"I don't have time for you kitten, why don't you go chase a Chuumon or something." The wizard mocked as he stretched his large raven wings, signaling that he was about to take off. He then turned around and began to casually walk towards the edge of the cliff.
Once he reached the edge of the cliff he bent his legs until he stood low and stretched out his wings. After he was in position, he prepared to jump off of the cliff, wanting the wind to lift him over the black brine below.
However, just as the wizard jumped he felt something wrap around his wrist and yank him back upon the cliff.
Once the champion crash back onto the black stone he looked at his wrist, his yellow eyes widening in surprise, then he jerked his head back to where BlackGatomon stood.
"You're not a wizard type!" the warrior exclaimed in surprise as his eyes went back to the device holding him to the cliff.
There wrapped around his thin wrist was a black buckle, which was connected to a black chain. The chain ran right into the ground as though it had sprouted out of the earth itself.
"Stick around, and you'll find that I'm full of surprises." The black cat peered out arrogantly.
Annoyance instantly entered the Karatemon's yellow eyes, and he bellowed angrily at this interference. With a threatening grunt he pulled the chain hard braking the spell and causing the black loops to scatter upon the ground, before they faded into a black mist and rose to the air like harmless clouds.
"You're going to wish you stayed home by your saucer of milk before I'm done with you!" the winged digimon hissed out as he drew his two yellow swords.
BlackGatomon smirked pleased with her opponent's response to her spell, but did not move an inch. She sat on all four of her legs with her head hung down so that a shadow masked her face.
The feline's lack of concern for Karatemon and his threats only angered the wizard more, and rage began to boil in his glowing eyes as his body shook with frustration.
"Fine! If you will not fight me then I'll destroy you!" he screamed with fury, as he took to the air and flew towards the cat, traveling quicker than the speed of sound.
The warrior was almost upon his opponent, but just as he reached her, his attack was foiled as she jumped into the air, missing the blade of his swords by barely a centimeter. The cat moved with even greater speed than her opponent did, she moved as quickly as darkness itself, and in the air she managed to maneuver four front flips before coming down hard on her opponent's head.
The Karatemon screeched in surprise and pain as his beak and face was thrown violently into the stone ground.
BlackGatomon used the leverage from the wizard's head to push herself back into the air, where she put on another graceful show of flips and twist and landed without so much as a sound some six feet away from her enemy.
The Karatemon groaned in pain as he pushed himself up from his cribbed position on the black rocks. Already he could taste copper swooshing in his mouth and slipping down his throat. The blood dripped from his face and slipped out of his mouth, trailing its way down the champion's purple armor. Small puddles of crimson collected upon the rocky ground, and raven feathers, sprinkled in freshly spilt blood, floated upon the breeze past the two fighters and over the dark ocean.
The Karatemon was now back upon his feet, however, the damage from the fall was strongly evident upon the creature's face. His beak had split all the way up to his face and in two different places on the left side. Blood was oozing out of the three slits and poring upon the ground like an endless stream of tears.
BlackGatomon was now smiling, silently mocking her battered opponent, as she stood in a battle ready stance. "Come and get me little birdy." She enticed smoothly.
Karatemon's eyes were still unfocused, as he had not fully recovered from the blow to his skull, however, his anger had reached its limits, and he was now trembling horribly with rage. "You will pay!" he screamed so loudly that the call of animosity rang out over the sea and the air.
The feline digimon only smiled, to her this was more fun than torturing toddlers.
Karatemon gripped his two swords tightly, remarkably he had not dropped them during his fall, and now they were wedged into his palms with crimson sprinkled upon the handles.
The wizard charged the black cat, this time remaining on the ground. He brought his swords up and ran at full speed, leaving ribbons of red flowing behind him, before they crashed to the ground splattering into many tiny droplets.
BlackGatomon kept her eyes locked upon her opponent. She remained incredibly still, as the larger digimon closed in on her, brining up his swords as he moved. Then just as the Karatemon was about to bring his weapons down upon her large cat ears, she flipped back upon her front paws, performing a back flip and using her tail like a whip. Her long stripped tail flew behind her, following her body and sliced through the Karatemon's thick purple armor.
Instantly the wizard fell to one knee and dropped his swords as his shaking hands were placed upon the fresh wound running from his stomach up to his neck. The cut barely drew blood, but his flesh was still soar, and his mind was shocked from the cleverly executed attack.
BlackGatomon was now back upon both of her feet and watching her injured opponent with a triumphant grin upon her features.
"Are you ready to hand over what is rightfully mine?" she questioned smoothly, though her tone held the edge of a threat.
The Karatemon's body was shaking now, his shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and his breathing was quick, desperate pants.
"Never!" the champion hissed strongly as he shot his head up and struggled to his feet once more. "This crest belongs to my master."
The wizard's stuttered words caught the feline's attention, and she suddenly grew very curious as to whom the Karatemon's master was.
"Tell me, noble warrior, who is this great Lord, whose will you are so eager to die for." The cat peered in the most respectful tone she could muster.
The wizard sneered distastefully at the black cat's attempt to charm him, then replied. "Don't concern yourself with a name, you'll find out when he comes to kill you and all of your kind." The champion boasted coldly.
A look of insult and rage clouded over the cat digimon's face as she fully abandoned the idea of obtaining information from her adversary, and reverted her attention back to destroying him.
Without wasting anymore time with words, the champion cat charged her barely standing opponent.
The Karatemon's eyes widened in fear as he saw the black mass approaching him at incomprehensible speed. He tried to get his battered wings to hoist him into the air, but the bruised and bloodied limbs could barely flap without sending pain through his entire body. By the time the idea to run entered the wizard's mind it was too late, BlackGatomon had reached him, and with a startling battle cry the cat slammed two claws on her right paw into the warrior's yellow eyes.
Karatemon hissed and screeched in horror and pain as everything faded from his sight and he went blind.
BlackGatomon twisted her claws within her opponents eye's sockets, enjoying the howls of agony she was receiving in response to her action. But soon the fun was over, and she reminded herself that she had a job to complete. Reluctantly she yanked her claws away from the Karatemon's face, only to have her opponent's left eyeball remained locked around her claw.
Ignoring her disgusting predicament for a moment, she used her free paw to retrieve the Crest of Friendship from the Karatemon's brown pouch. She then jumped unto the ground and looked at her slime and blood covered paw in revolt.
Tightening her grip around her newly obtained prize, she set to the task of freeing her paw from the mess collected upon it. She shook her paw, frowning as she realized how truly difficult removing the filth would be.
As the black cat focused on the fact that she needed a bath, she failed to realize that her opponent was still tumbling around screaming that he could not see. The Karatemon tripped over rocks, slicing up his bird-like talons, and his hand covered his bleeding eyes. He cried and screamed and begged for mercy, but all of his calls fell upon deaf ears, as his opponent had lost interest in him, the moment she got what she was after.
Blindly he roamed around; blood spilling from his eye sockets onto the ground like water spills onto the land after a dam had been broken. He stumbled around getting dangerously close to the cliffs, but still his opponent paid not attention to him.
BlackGatomon was cursing irritably at the film and eyeball still stuck upon her paw. Finally an idea hit her, and she decided to use the rocks below to scrap the majority of the mess off of her paw. Once free of the filth, a triumphant smile plastered upon her face and she mused upon how talented she was. But soon her triumphant smile was replace by a look of curiosity as she suddenly realized that she could no longer hear the terror filled screams of her opponent.
Turning around to where his voice had last come from, she scanned over the area but no trace of the wizard could be found. The black cat looked all around, but still the Karatemon was no where in sight. After a few moments of looking the feline got bored, and so she shrugged her shoulders as if to say whatever, then put her newly gained trinket around her neck and headed off to the Mephistomon's fortress in the Black Mountains and her awaiting mistress.
Below the dark waves still washed up and crashed upon the black cliffs. The brine rose, concealing the razor sharp rocks, which stuck proudly out of the ocean, then, the tide pulled back, diluting traces of crimson as it pulled away from the rocks. And there speared with the great stones was Karatemon, his blood veined into the water until the brine overpowered it, and his hallow eyes stared at the sky warning all away.
~*~*~
Tattered banners of deep reds and purples hung lifelessly from splintered rafters. Their bold and exquisite colors had long since dulled with time, as dust collected upon them, clothing them in a grayish age. Four thick stone walls with cracks and mildew made up the side barriers to the large throne room, while a moist and slowly rotting, wooden ceiling and a dust covered stone floor, made up the top and bottom obstructions.
No windows were placed inside the room so no light from the outside could fumble its way in, illuminating the dreary room with warmth and cheer. Instead the room was lighten by ten great flame stands, which lined the blood red carpet, five on each side. Only one exit for the room existed, and this came in the form of two great wooden doors, placed upon rusted iron hinges. The great amounts of moisture in the air causing everything to age and die quicker than it should.
The room held a dour demeanor, settled in gloominess and despair, an environment which fully suited its melancholy master.
"I do not see how you can be so certain Spectermon." The master of the saturnine throne room bellowed out pitifully.
The one receiving the gloomy master's testimony of doubt gritted her teeth in irritation, but remained composed in front of her Lord.
"My Lord, I have told you there really is not certainty when it comes to matters such as these. Humans are such a lowly race, it is impossible to identify the exceptional when they are still amongst the worthless." Spectermon chose her words carefully, not wanting anything to hinder her plan. "If you will but let me commence with the ceremony I can prove to you that this is the correct child, and you will have earned great favor with the powers of Darkness."
Mephistomon shifted in his large onyx throne before leaning back in thought. For a while his mirthless face remained absent of emotion, and his eyes, which constantly looked on the brink of tears, clouded over with contemplation.
After some time of silent pondering, the fallen angel leaned forward to state his further concerns. "And what if you are wrong Spectermon, what if this boy is not the key we have search for?" after the question was asked the ultimate digimon leaned back in his large seat, feeling that there was no way his servant could possibly answer this question.
Spectermon could see the trap her Lord had set. She could not put into words how greatly she despised the dejected fallen angel, to her all of his kind were as worthless as dirt, but she had been assigned to work for him, and so she could not state her obvious distaste.
Taking a bold step forward, the phantom maiden pushed a few strands of her black as night hair behind her pale pointed ears and replied, "Then we will all die my Lord."
Mephistomon gulped down quickly, finding his servant's response nerve raking. He leaned back in his seat, trying to maintain some of his dignity, then questioned back, "And this does not trouble you?" he tried to make it seem as though he were bored and uninterested in the lady wraith's words, but his attempt was failing miserably.
Spectermon smiled cruelly, knowing that she now had the upper hand in this conversation. "Of course not, my Lord," she expressed sweetly, though both knew that she was mocking the fallen angel, "Only the weak fear death."
The phantom's words came out cold and with such conviction that Mephistomon knew that his servant truly believed what she said. Feeling as though he were on trial and before the most prejudice of juries, the fallen angel shifted uncomfortably in his black throne. His better judgment told him to be weary, and not to rush into such a dangerous endeavor, such as the ceremony his servant spoke of, but his ego had been scratched, and his honor and courage questioned by an underling.
"It is not death I fear, revenant!" the ultimate digimon announced with as much dignity as he could salvage, "It is the wrath of darkness, would you risk angering our Master with your hasty decisions?" the woeful digimon questioned, hoping to once again gain control of the argument.
Spectermon's eyes narrowed upon her Lord, she despised the title he referred to her as, and she knew that the arrogant digimon had no respect for her kind. Many digimon traveled to the Dark Ocean from other worlds in hopes of power, and this mortal digimon quickly overtook the free spirited phantoms of the world, forcing them to serve flesh and blood.
"Forgive me my Lord, you are right, I do not wish to anger our Master, however, if I am correct, than not only will the darkness be pleased but there will be nothing to stop it. No natural laws, no boundaries, the darkness will hold the keys to all worlds, and will spread over every realm like a plague. And we will be rewarded for our loyalties and deeds. You, my Lord, will have more power than you could ever imagine."
Mephistomon leaned back in his large throne, finding it impossible to resist the temptation of power. "You are certain that this is the correct child?" he asked lazily, as daydreams of carnage and oblivion circled his usually dull mind.
"None of the others could have possibly survived this long in a world of pure misery and despair. His life would serve our cause perfectly." The female wraith explained confidently, knowing that the argument was settled, and that she would soon have what she desired.
Mephistomon looked down at the neglected stone floor for a moment, a ray of doubt still lingered in his eyes, but the promise of power was too great to deny, and so he reluctantly consented. "Do as you will, wraith." The fallen angel at last announced, before waving a dismissing hand towards the two large wooden doors of the throne room.
Spectermon smiled, pleased with the outcome of the argument, then bowed before turning around and leaving the fallen angel with a deadly smirk upon her face.
~*~*~
Spectermon walked slowly through the corridors of the drearisome castle. Her steps were large and even, while her gloved hands were locked behind her back. She carried herself high, showing as much decorum as was demanded of a digimon of her statue. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with pride, and her black lips tugged into a small smile. She had accomplished her goal, which was to deceive her verminous Lord.
"I take it your little talk with the wretch went well." A ghastly voice observed from the shadows.
Spectermon stopped her leisurely walk, but kept her poise and remained focused on the hallway before her, despite the fact that the creature addressing her was standing to her right side.
A cruel smile now played on the phantom's lips as she replied to the being hidden in the shadows. "Fools are easy to play." She explained almost lazily.
"Indeed." The reply came back in a tone of praise to the wraith's capabilities.
Spectermon's smile then dropped, and she continued her walk still showing little interest in her companion, who was now walking alongside her still hidden in the shadows.
"Any word from BlackGatomon?" the pale skinned digimon questioned with an edge to her voice that clearly stated the answer had better be yes.
The creature beside the phantom grunted slightly before replying, "She has just returned, and has brought the crest with her."
At this Spectermon abruptly stopped her walk, then jerked her head so that she could look at her companion. "Excellent," she stated wickedly, her usually smooth voice taking on a tone of viciousness. Her black lips twisted into a smile, like a starving wolf would give a cornered prey, and then she raised her right hand and quickly snapped her fingers.
At her command two shadows pealed themselves off of the walls and molded into the form of bodiless cloaks.
The being hidden in the shadows smiled devilishly at the sight of the two Eidolonmom. The soulless creatures brought with them the icy feeling of death. A feeling that the being within the shadows both loved and craved.
Spectermon turned to her loyal servants, her eyes showing no concern, or pity for the eternally lost. "Prepare the boy, it is time to go to Tophet."
At their mistress' command the Eidolimon nodded, the hood of their shadowed cloaks then sunk into the stone floor, vanishing as though they were never really there.
Once the wraiths were gone, the creature within the shadows spoke again. "In a hurry are we?" he questioned finding the speed in the Lady's decisions uncommon.
Spectermon turned to her companion; no sings of tolerance were shown in her ominous eyes. "I will not waste anymore time, nor will I risk any further interference. This most be done tonight." She explained coldly.
The phantom's companion nodded understandingly, then waited knowing his orders would soon be given.
"Find BlackGatomon, and the two of you meet me in the courtyard, the Eidolimon will have the boy at Tophet quickly, we will leave as soon as possible."
Spectermon's servant nodded his head, then lifted it for the first time since he joined the phantom. His blood red eyes glowed eerily in the shadows, and his coal teeth looked grotesque as his skinless face formed as much of a smile as it could.
"As you wish my Lady." SkullSatamon replied devotionally to his mistress, before he too sunk into the floor, disappearing from the lady phantom's sight.
Once alone Spectermon turned back in the direction she was walking, a small smile pulled on her lips and her sharp fangs glistened in the torchlight.
'Soon boy you will know what it is to truly suffer.'
She took up her steps once more, holding herself high, as all great ladies should, then walked away.
~*~*~
In the Dark Ocean there are many marvels to behold. Great castles built by oppressed slaves who were driven by cruel Master's. Empires conceived of deceit, animosity, and terror were scattered upon the many small continents that rose above the obscure ocean. The omnipotent Darkness bore this world of shadow and despair, and each leader placed upon an honored throne were selected and blessed by the eternal rival of light. If the appointed leader should somehow prove unfit for their honored position, then they were to be removed and condemned by the very force they once served without question.
The darkness cares nothing for its underlings, all servants are expendable, and so failure was look upon as betrayal, and betrayal was punished with an eternity of suffering. For ages the powers of Darkness has sought for its edge over the light, for something that would tip the balance in umbra's favor, but these endeavors have proven fruitless, and many worthless servants have lost their lives because of their incapability. But now it seemed that one daring servant had found the key to all chains binding the darkness. No longer would evil be confined to lands were a vast amount of its servants dwelt; at last it would be free to spread throughout all worlds, swallowing the light whole.
But first evil must have an outlet; a key that could open the doors once closed to it. The servants of darkness would finally receive the great rewards promised to them for many generations, and all of this would be achieved by one lost little boy. A boy unaware of how significant he truly was.
What is this place? And why am I here? Who are these digimon whose touch are as icy as death, and whose eyes are as unearthly as my parent's when they would shout and argue. Why is the sleet so cold upon my face and so sharp upon my skin? Shouldn't I have gone numb by now?
The questions circled Matt's mind as he stumbled uneasily through the darkness, trying to keep in step with the gristly creatures dragging him carelessly uphill. He wasn't certain of where they were taking him, he wasn't even certain of how he had gotten this far.
Being in the dudgeon seemed ages ago yet he could recall every detail.
Lying lifelessly in the oubliette and staring dully at the darkness above, he dared not move, for each time he did pain would instantly jolt through his limbs and spread unto his entire body. The cold had seeped into his flesh, mingled with his blood, and worked its way deep into his bones, causing his joints to ache and his lungs and throat to burn.
He still wondered why his clothes had been replaced with the simple pare of thin clothed pants, and he desperately craved his gloves as his fingers had gone numb yet still throbbed with pain. The thought of a warm fire wrapping its heat around him and thawing his frozen body taunted him with hope, hope that he would once again feel something other than pain. But all hope shattered as time past and he lied for hours alone on the cold floor. He would never know warmth again, he would never know hope again.
What is this place? Why won't they answer any of my questions? Why won't I ask any questions? Why am I suddenly afraid?
The Eidolonmon continued to drag the nearly bare boy through the shadows of the world. Their formless hands gripped tightly upon the fear filled child, showing no compassion for the now trembling blonde.
Matt tried to fill his mind with other thoughts, thoughts less troubling than the ones currently racing through his head. But he soon found it impossible to seek distraction with some gentle memory or beautiful thought, so he changed his focus, deciding he'd retrace the steps which led him to this place.
He had been lying in the oubliette, nothing had changed, the torch light danced above his head, and a quick thought that maybe the glass portion of the circular wall would be warm from the flickering flames crossed his mind. However he abandoned this notion as he reminded himself how painful it was to move, even the promise of warming his now blue hands was not appealing enough to make him rise, and so he lied and waited.
The minutes past like days, and his pain and anguish overwhelmed him, weighing down upon him like all the burdens he has carried. As he lied there slipping slowly into a corpse state, he began to wonder if he would ever see true light again, he wondered if he'd ever escape this "Hall of Sleet".
Soon his worries faded, as a jerk from below brought some life back to the pale child. With little interest the blonde pushed himself slowly up on his elbows and idly looked around. Everything had gone still again, and he was about to lie back down when the floor jerked again. This time the movement was unmistakable, and the boy's dull blue eyes diverted to the tiled floor curiously.
As soon as the blue orbs rested their gaze upon the title pattern another movement overcame the floor, and the blonde found himself startled as the circular ground began to rise up at an alarming speed.
There was no food in the boy's stomach but that didn't stop him from feeling nauseous due to the quick pull upwards. He reached the top of the dungeon only to find that there was no ceiling to his prison at all. There was only darkness hovering above him like his ever-present forlorn storm clouds.
Matt shifted his position so that he was sitting straight up rather than leaning upon his sore elbows. Around him he could see nothing but darkness and feel nothing but bone-chilling fear. He felt so lost and confused, like he was a toddler again, wandering around some horrific nightmare while calling for his mother, but his mother never came to save him in his dreams, and he doubt that any rescuer would ever appear in the nightmare he was living now.
He sat within the shadows undisturbed for sometime, and with each passing second he could feel his pulse quicken. Finally the suspense was too great, and he decided to call out into the darkness.
"Hello?" he started timidly, unable to control the quiver in his hoarse voice. "Is anyone there?" he tried again, but no answer came.
He was surrounded by silence. No one responded to his calls, and the darkness made him feel as though he were blind.
The Dark Ocean is a place of despair; it is a mockery of every negative place, thought, and feeling that could be found in the real world. Legions of suffering take actual form here, rising from the black depths of the ocean and taking their place as continents and landmarks. For this reason there are many feared places in this bleak world, but one sanctuary of torment is known far above the others. A valley, where the very dirt on the ground and specs in the air are dried up bones, which have long since turned to dust. Where the black stone once was gray, but much blood, both innocent and wicked, was spilt upon the stones, staining them until at last they turned black with grief. All around the wind whispered tales of death, and sleet and ice coated the region in lifelessness.
The valley was in the northeast region of Mephistomon's continent, and it was called Gehena. It was the world's sepulcher, where the relics remaining were pieces of lingering lives. The valley was a testament to the darkness' cruelty, and soon the boy, being drug mercilessly against his will through the desolate land, would know exactly why.
Their hold hurts so much, and it's been hurting ever since they grabbed me in the darkness and brought me to their courtyard.
Matt had waited in the darkness for several minutes. The circle shaped floor of the oubliette remained in the new black surroundings, and while the blonde was uneased by the obscurity around him, he didn't want to wait upon the circular floor for fear that it should lower once again. Gaining some confidence and resolution from reminding himself that he wanted to die, the young boy slowly shifted his position until he was on his hands and knees, then with cautious and small movements, he slowly crawled along the floor.
A small smile pulled upon his chapped lips as he felt the smooth cool tile beneath his battered and scraped hands. The round floor was large and he still wasn't certain where it ended and where a new floor began. A disinterested sigh escaped the blonde's lips, and his patient with inching over the floor was slowly growing smaller. Just as he was about to give up his trek entirely he suddenly felt new texture beneath his cold and slightly numb hands. The texture of the new floor was rough and gritty, leading him to believe the floor unkempt and filthy. The coarse floor, despite its filthiness, was a welcome change from the polished tile, which the boy had grown accustom to. The new environment meant that he was making progress, and might actually escape the hellish creatures that brought him to this dingy castle and return to his precious ocean, which lie waiting for him in all of its black glory.
I should have known that escaping was not a possibility. If these things had gone to so much trouble to acquire me, then they certainly would not just allow me to escape. But I wonder what they want me for. Not even this dismal world could possibly have a need for a damaged object.
Maybe they want to feed me to a pet, some kind of digimon dog. That would make a little sense, I suppose, I'm little better than leftovers anyway. Or maybe I am a leftover, all the precious children in the world are valued more than a royal feast to a starving beggar, but I was what the world didn't want. The one that could not satisfy even the hungriest of starving men. They had no need for me, I was only waste, not even fit to occupy a landfill. And so here I am, thrown to the dogs. I just wish I knew what they want with such worthless waste.
Eibolomon remained silent, hidden beneath their robs of darkness. Their faces were not visible, if they existed at all, and so could show no emotion. Their hands, which gripped tightly unto the boy's freezing bare arms, were not to be beheld. Their bodies were like the North wind, impossible to see, but often times painful and chilling to feel.
Their hands held tightly unto their prisoner, pulling him over the dusty valley floor, while cutting off the circulation to the boy's pale arms by both gripping too tightly and freezing the limb, flesh, blood, and bone.
Matt had long sense resorted to biting his lip in order to contain cries of pain or pleas for mercy. Out of all that he had suffered since his arrival in the cursed world, these strange digimon's clasp upon his arms was by far the worse. The burning was worse than holding an ice cube for a prolonged period of time, because no matter how long he was in the apparition's hold, the pain never faded into numbness, it only escalated in intensity.
The blonde stole a quick look at his captors', then diverted his gaze to the dusty ground. Instantly dulling blue eyes fell upon the dirt beneath him. In many places the ashen sand had darkened, and the boy physically winced as he realize the reason for this. Trails of crimson flowed down his bare feet, and blotches of blood now dotted the path behind him, as the many cuts on the bottom of his tired feet left sovereigns to remind the decayed bones of what it was to have life-giving blood upon them.
Matt's face curled up in disgust, as he was certain that the wounds upon his raw, sore feet would become infected due to the dust, which was slowly clogging the lesions.
How long have we been walking? Does time even exist here? Maybe not, maybe one day is an eternity and an eternity is one day.
The blonde soon gave up his pondering and allowed his mind a break from his personal torture. He focused strictly on putting one foot in front of the other, as he desperately tried to keep in step with his captors.
What ever path he now traveled, seem to go on forever, and the boy vaguely considered the possibility that the valley did go on until the end of the earth, or at least until the end of this pandemonium.
He wasn't certain what had compelled him to shift his gaze forward, but he was glad he did. The scenery below was hardly glamorous, and the sight of his own flesh been torn from the ground and his blood staining the earth was getting somewhat repetitive. But as his mirthless eyes lifted, and his sight changed, he began to feel an interest in something other than his own worthlessness.
Is that where they're taking me? But why such an extravagant place? Am I actually worth something to these things? Or is this simply false hope… that's it, there is no real hope for someone like me. Hope is beyond my reach, and far beyond what I deserve.
~*~*~
The icy north wind carried the sharp pieces of sleet through the obscure air, sending the tiny fragments colliding roughly into every object they came across. The ice was thrown from the penumbra heavens above, only to land on the cursed ground of Gehena and melt. The mountains, which circled the large valley, served as the northern and eastern walls to Mephotisomon's domain. The great peaks put all other land masses in the Dark Ocean to shame, as they stood like crude tombstones, which sprung from the land and took their rightful place, looming over the many deceased, buried in the soil of the valley.
As the livid clouds above slowly circled the desolate land in a fashion which resemble the makings of a cyclone, the falling of sleet became even greater, and the size of the jagged ice became larger. The wind screeched over the land and broke through the clouds as they slowly darkened as accustom to the hour. While what little light the world held slowly burned away all other elements seemed to grow unease, and began making their presence far better known. The wind howled like a bloodthirsty wolf, the clouds crashed and swirled as though they had been containing a storm, which desperately needed its release. The soil seemed to breath as it remembered the life it once possessed, and the mountains stood taller, now that all light was fading they could no longer rely on shadows to rise their esteem, but were forced to look threatening and towering on their own accord.
To the phantom digimon, looking out upon the changing atmosphere, this was the most beautiful hour of the Avernal world. The livid light was slowly surrendering to the rule of darkness, and the entire world came to life, feeding and reveling in the cloak of shadows. It was a glorious sight to any creature born of the darkness and claimed by death and misery. Knowing that ultimately the light could never win, for wherever you find light there will always is darkness.
It was a suitable system to the apparition; to know that darkness always shadowed light, but it was not a satisfying one. Why should light always come first, why should it chase away darkness? Why could not cold, relentless blackness lay claim to the world? The darkness depended on the light, for it requires light to cast a shadow, but the light could exists quite comfortably without the darkness. Darkness needed light, but light did not need darkness, it was this problem that the cursed society of the resurrected was here to rectify.
They had all they required to make the darkness independent and so free it from the chains of light. Soon the process would be complete. Darkness would hold the keys to its own existence and could then destroy the light without fear of its own demise.
"Very few sights captivate me as greatly as the sight of fading light." A high but incredibly even voice spoke fondly, as bright blue eyes mirrored the coming night with bedazzlement.
A simple smile pulled upon black velvet lips at the statement made by a small cat like creature. Eyes of deep blue glistened in the shadows as they look out upon the horizon.
The walls of Gehena encompassed the land and reached the shore of the Dark Ocean. Standing higher and mightier than all other peaks of the damnable world was a black cliff, which had been carved, polished, and manipulated into the form of a great alter. The cliff had no real name, but was often referred to as Tophet, in mockery of the great mountain of slaughters in the real world. Tophet once reached into the gray clouds with a pointed summit and jagged natural cliffs, but many ages ago another servant of darkness, one which proved himself unworthy in the eyes of evil, saw the peak fit for something greater than simply a wall. And so after many laboring years, the once proud, but common, peak was shaved into a structure, which put all other landmarks in the desolate world to shame.
The once jagged black stone had been polished down until it glistened with traces of gray and silver minerals. The peak still stood higher than any other, but now had a smooth flat surface. In the center wall, which stood inside of Gehena, was placed an entrance to a great staircase. Craved directly from the mountain was a great opening, one which circled the square structure, steadily ringing its way up the cliff. The rock made up an arched tunnel like ceiling and gray steps which were small in height but large enough to accommodate relatively any digimon, no matter how heavy or large. Within every ten steps was a large flat floor with a great pillar carved from the floor unto the ceiling. Making up the outside of the arches was simple designs craved through the thin layer of stone.
Over looking one side of Tophet was the dead valley of Gehena. Standing proudly on either side of the great peak was two other cliffs of the back stone, which was common in the hellish world. The last of the view was by far the most spectacular. The dark ocean laid out beyond and beneath the alter, its waves could be heard like a bittersweet melody lightly tapping upon the cliff and sometimes splashing onto the stairs, which encompassed and slowly rose to the top of the cliff.
"Is all in place?" the question came out as more of a sharp command.
Spectermon stood upon the balcony on the northeast side of Tophet. Below her the brine of the dark ocean swooshed and splashed, as the wind and gravity stirred the water roughly.
BlackGatomon and SkullSatamon stood silently behind the phantom, both scanning over the area with their glowing eyes, making certain that all was ready.
"Yes My Lady, the ritual may begin as soon as the boy arrives." The black feline digimon answered for both her self and her undead companion.
Spectermon smiled proudly, her white fangs glistened in the glow of vivid torches as her eyes sparkled with ill intent.
"Good, the prize is almost here."
~*~*~
An accursed numen settled upon Gehena's floor. The feelings of despair and loneliness manifested themselves in the form of a thick numbi mist, which blanketed the land and rose high unto the cliffs, concealing the entrance to the encompassing staircase, which rose around Tophet. Darkness had stretched over the land, and with the shadows came an unspoken omen of suffering that had yet to come. Death rode upon a wind shaped carriage, having Aeolus gallop widely over the land, drawing its rider ever closer to their destination.
The umbra clouds above rained down thin sharp pieces of sleet, which pierced flesh and collected upon the ground, making the land as cold as the air. The sleet would not melt, it would linger long through the night, coating all in ice, until dawns first vivid light caressed the horizon, awaking the world and casting back mist, shadow, and ice.
For the inhabitants of the Dark Ocean, such elements were common and easily dealt with, but for a human, barely clothed and half starved such a climate was unbearable. Matt could feel his bare feet freezing below him. His blood was running cold, and the sharp pieces of ice only served to further mutilate the tender pale flesh on the bottom of his feet. The blonde wished for one moment that the wraiths holding him tightly in an icy iron grip, would loosen their hold and let him wrapped his arms protectively around himself. He knew it wouldn't warm his bare chest and arms much, but even the thought gave him some comfort.
How easily we take things for granite. Something as simply as being allowed to curled up and fight off the cold has been taking away from me, and I never realized before what a wonderful gift it was.
Shivers began to move through the blonde's spine and slowly work their way into the rest of his limbs, until his whole body was shaking. The shivers were mild at first, but the colder Matt's body became, the more forceful the shaking became, until they turned into violent trembles. Straight white teeth began to chatter involuntarily, and the boy began to feel sluggish as his body slowly began to shut down.
I wonder why I'm here? I wonder where TK is. What if he's hurt or lost? No! That would never happen. Tai would never let that happen. He'd never abandon TK like I did. He'd never leave just because he felt like he didn't belong. TK deserves better than me. He deserves a role model worth idolizing. He deserves someone who can love and understand his innocence. He needs some one perfect and beautiful, not some one scared and ugly like me.
The fog lied around azure eyes like a blindfold. Tired legs gave out under a bruised body, causing the boy's ankles to twist. Matt hissed in pain as his right ankle jerked inward, but had little time to dwell on the sharp pain as the fleshless hands of Eboilonmon yanked him back up, and the phantoms continued their trek at the same quick pace, despite their captives limping.
Matt struggled to remain on his bleedings bare feet with his now twisted right ankle, but the long walk was leaving him worn, and the lack of food made his head light and dizzy, but his stomach nauseous.
Why was I such a fool? Why did I ever try to escape that lovely ocean? Why did I ever try to swim from those black waves?… the waves? I can hear the waves!
The pre-teen's head shot up quickly as the sound of swooshing water cut through his delusion filled mind, causing everything else to seem obsolete.
As the blonde's clouded eyes cleared he realized that he was no longer faced with an eternal sea of gray fog and frozen earth, but was now standing before a great arch entrance, which seemed to tunnel straight into a mountain.
The monolith I saw from a distance. This is where we were going. But why?
The very sight of the entranceway sent a noticeable shiver down the boy's spine, making his trembling seem small and insignificant. A bone-chilling breeze pulsed from the arched tunnel, causing the blonde to instantly think of the cave which led him here. The wind was like the breath of a hungry beast, painting upon his tender flesh. But it was not savage, it was hungry, but not rapid. The chill seemed to carry a sad song through the air, and the blonde was almost positive he heard a little girl's gentle voice singing her last lullaby into the night.
The Eboilionmon seemed far less effected by the opening to Tophet, and after pausing for a few seconds, they began dragging their victim towards the entrance.
Matt wasn't certain why, but something within him told him that he did no want to ascend the stone staircase. The shadows beyond the entrance and the voice upon the wind, seemed more frightening than any other horror he had beheld in his sort time in the Dark Ocean. Something awaited him at the top of Tophet, and he knew it was not the peaceful eternal darkness he so desired.
~*~*~
So how did that go over? Still a little confused? Well join the club. This plot is slowly but surely writing itself, and I'm pretty sure it won't let me interfere much. But tell me honestly what do you think thus far? I know it's been a very long while since I've updated * and even that's an understatement * but if I still have any readers left I could greatly use your opinions.
Also I have a few terms I need to explain. A lot of the names and places in this fic are based on mythological and historical things. I use these names because I've noticed that a lot of things in the Digimon series is based off of myths and such from our world. you are more than welcome to use the idea for these things if you'd like, I don't own them. Also here is a brief explanation of what everything is or where they came from.
Diablery Cliffs: diablery mean devilment and comes from the Spanish word for devil Daiblo or Daibolus.
Gehena: Gehenna means in place of extreme torment or suffering. It's the valley of Hinnom near Jerusalem where propitiatory scarifies were made to Moloch.
Tophet: Topheth is another word for black or hell and was a place near Jerusalem where children were offered as sacrifices to Moloch.
Hall of Sleet: this comes from Noric mythology. The hall of sleet, otherwise known as Eliudnir, was the hall of Hel(or Hela) Norse goddess of the underworld.
Averal: this comes from Avernus, which was a small lake in the crater of an extinct volcano west of Naples, and was formerly believed to be the entrance to Hades (the ancient Greek equivalent of hell).
Aeolus: Aeolus was the Latin and Greek god of the North Wind.
So now you know what was going through my head when I wrote this.
Well anyway, please review, let me know if you're still here. It's been so long I doubt anyone stuck around. But I am still here and will continue to write. If no one's really very interested in this then I won't fret to get it done quicker, and will turn my attention to other projects. But if you still want to see more, and you want to know what awaits Matt at the top of Tophet, then please review or send some for of feedback. Also if you would like to be e-mailed he next time I update this just send me your e-mail address either via e-mail or review.
Until next time…