A/N: Just to let you know, I am aware that I do tend to miss several page breaks. I double-space them on the computer and then insert a horizontal rule where I remember they left off, but sometimes I miss one or two. If you catch one, let me know.
Short but Myo-centric chapter ahead! Enjoy!
Chapter 6
The Prisoner
One hundred years before the Digi-Destined had entered Myotismon's afterlife, the vampire had reached the pinnacle of his leadership; he might as well have been Overlord of the Digital World. All Devimon managed to seize was the insignificant File Island, and Etemon? He could have all of eastern Server; it was nothing but a worthless coastline and desert with barely any inhabitants, anyway. In addition, Myotismon knew that it was a tactical strategy to have at least two worthy obstacles to halt these chosen children in their tracks—or at the very least, delay them.
The vampire was in his study, perusing through ancient digital manuscripts and records. History had always enthralled him; it stemmed from the stories that he had been told by Digitamamon and Vegiemon while recovering from the wound that Toxidramon had given him. At first, he had been fascinated by the tales of warfare and bloodshed that the Digimon of old had written hundreds of years before. Then he realized that these etchings on leather-bound parchment could be a powerful weapon in his hands. With his knowledge of the digital lords and the fatal flaws that led to their ends, he would grow to learn the vulnerabilities of not only the digital world and its inhabitants, but what actions he should or should not commit while in power. He was so enthralled in his passion for power that he sometimes stayed awake for up to a week, reading and rereading the ancient records for a key to domination.
He had just begun to rise to power when a prophecy spoke to him:
The Light will fade,
And the Eternal Night of the Undead King shall prevail
Through a Tempest of Bloodshed
And a Harvest of Souls.
All other Demons shall bow to the Virus Lord,
The most powerful Evil to befall the Digital World.
Seven hundred years of Terror Server will endure
At the hands of the Undead King.
When seven centuries have passed,
Seven Chosen Children
Bearing the Powers of their Crests
Shall enter the Digital World
And the Eternal Night of the Undead King
Will fade from the Face of the Digital World
Forever.
The Undead King. That was him.
A tempest of bloodshed and a harvest of souls. His minions used brutal—and always bloody—warfare against larger digital cities and tribes, while in the most defenseless of villages, Myotismon himself kidnapped the most defenseless and molded their souls to be like his own. He was legendary throughout all of his continent, and no Digimon was brave enough to venture into the darkness.
But the Chosen Children?
Never!
Myotismon was well over one hundred years of age at the time he had read it; he hardly appeared twenty-five, as that was his year of life in which he digivolved. He knew that his immortality and eternal youth was apparent in the prophecy—seven hundred years of power. He was discontent with this, for seven hundred years was but a heartbeat in eternity! If the vampire was to live forever, he should be able to rule for that long.
That was when he realized that he was becoming too powerful to stop ruling after seven hundred years. He could forge his own fate—intense training and battles against his most powerful henchmen. If he could defeat a Digimon of the same caliber as Tuskmon, DarkTyrannomon, Dokugumon, or Phantomon, he could defeat a mere child. He trained for hours—he would mostly practice alone, but some days he would fight against his strongest minions and win every time. He singlehandedly fought entire cities and would emerge unscathed and victorious. The vampire grew extremely thin on no sustenance outside of blood and wine, but he maintained his strength through his own rigorous training. In addition, he still had the time to increase his knowledge through reading the classics. There was no piece of literature written that he had not read, and once in a while he would pick up something different, such as a chess manual or Sun Tzu's The Art of War. As a vampire, he would often leave the castle at night to prey on the blood of the innocent… and sometimes the virginity of humanoid female Digimon if his appetite had grown unquenchable.
Without a doubt, Myotismon had become the most feared creature in the digital world, and other Virus types had learned of his limitless vault of skill, power, and knowledge. The female types had become drawn to him through his spellbinding beauty, but alas, were left in the dust and trampled like so many other victims after their bodies were subject to his disposal. However, there were four in particular who envied him more than any other precedent for takeover.
Six hundred years into his reign, Myotismon sat in a comfortable leather chair in the study, rereading the dark poetry of Edgar Allan Poe, one of his favorite authors. The flames flickered off of the vampire, giving him a soft, angelic glow amid his sharp facial features and demonic eyes.
There was a rapping on the door, and Myotismon gently closed the book and set it on a magohany table beside him, next to an untouched glass of ruby wine. He was not presently in the mood for visitors, but he would not ignore a message if it was urgent or if there was a potential threat to his power.
"Come in," he said, his deep voice echoing through the room.
The tall, ebony doors opened with a creak, and the unmistakable raspy voice of DemiDevimon could be heard.
"Master Myotismon… you have a visitor."
"Send him in."
"But… boss, he's not from this castle!"
"WHAT!" Myotismon quickly rose into the air and turned around, his eyes blazing with ice-blue fire. "How dare he trespass on the castle grounds! Send the Devidramon on him and do not spare the remains!"
The imp trembled even more. "M… master, he… he claims he's… he… he wants to help you, sir!"
The vampire knew that this visitor could still not be trusted. "Why would I need help from any other mon? Tell him to leave or suffer."
"But master…"
"Let me do the talking, you waste of space," interrupted a deeper, more mature voice from behind the doors. They opened wider to make way for a humanoid demon Digimon. Neither his face nor figure could be seen; they were concealed behind a crimson robe. All that could be seen were his glowing eyes from underneath his hood, and two twisted brown horns that protruded from the sides of his head. On a chain around his neck was a pendant that resembled a human eye, and inside the eye was a grey mist. "I see you do not recognize me, Lord Myotismon, but I have learned a great deal about you," said the being in a more respectful tone of voice.
"Tell me who you are and why I should be obligated to spare your life," threatened the vampire, still defensive.
The demon chuckled. "I can see that you are not one to mess with," he said amusedly. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Daemon, and I have come from the Dark Ocean to ask a favor of you."
A whip of Crimson Lightning extended from the vampire's hand. "Go on," he said.
"Lord Myotismon, my Demon Corps have been confined to the smallest, most overcrowded piece of territory within the dimension that the Dark Ocean is located, and not one Digimon recognizes me as their leader… nor MarineDevimon as the unquestioned ruler of the seas. If we were to rule the true digital world as well as the Hell for Digimon, we'd be respected more. We have heard of your incredible conquest of the northern digital world, and also the impending threat that lurks behind the interdimensional fabric on Earth, and we were willing to make a bargain with you."
The lightning disappeared. "Tell me."
Daemon reached into his robes and pulled out a pendant on a fine thread. Inside the tag was the inactive Crest of Light. "Years ago, the sage Gennai had confined eight Digieggs and their respectful crests inside—"
"Spare me the history lesson, Daemon; I have already learned of the dispersement of the tags and crests."
"Yes, well, what you haven't learned was that Piedmon was in my servitude, and he had only hidden seven before Gennai's army found and destroyed him. The eighth crest was still in my possession, and it is the key to the downfall of the Digi-Destined, as these chosen children are called. The crest within this tag—the Crest of Light—is the most powerful of all and will determine victory or demise.
"If you allow me to, sir, I wish to acquire even more land for you… but I must be able to rule over part of the digital world with you. In addition to the new territory, I will give you this crest… as well as a night with my servant LadyDevimon."
An attractive womon stepped through the doors. Her face resembled Devimon's, but her suit was more revealing and she had long, white hair that trailed down her back.
This was an offer the vampire could not refuse. He agreed to Daemon's offer, and as the demon flew off into the night, Myotismon escorted LadyDevimon to his crypt. Everything Myotismon had done was like a ritual, only this time it was not only for himself. The demoness seemed to be as passionate about that night as the vampire, and the two of them made love to each other far into the night in the seclusion of the chamber. What became a sensual massage while whispering sweet nothings turned into a wild and passionate whirl of sex, then they would briefly rest in the casket only to make love again several minutes later a different way.
It had been pleasure multiplied tenfold for the vampire and the demoness. He had relished hearing her scream like so many of his victims. She had never had a mon like him make love to her before, and hoped desperately that they could make love like this again. As dawn began to break, they lay side by side in the casket, breathing heavily and dripping with sweat. LadyDevimon's head rested on Myotismon's chest, and she moaned, remembering the night before.
A short time later, outside the doors of the crypt, DemiDevimon stood guard, holding up a picket sign that read, "Do not disturb!" in red letters. However, he was dozing, letting off a snore every time he exhaled. Daemon approached quickly.
"DemiDevimon," he said, causing the imp to leap high into the air, then stand alert with his sign.
"Can't you read the sign? It says, 'Do not disturb!' As in, 'Do not disturb me when I'm sleeping!'"
"I can read the damn sign," snapped Daemon. "Listen to me, DemiDevimon. Is the mating ritual complete, because I would like to tell him that he now possesses the west coast of Lan, as well as the archipelago near it."
"I don't know, and I don't want to know."
"If that's the way you're going to be, then fine."
The doors to the crypt opened, and Myotismon and LadyDevimon stepped out, fully clothed. The demoness's arms were wrapped around the vampire, and her head rested against his shoulder.
"What news have you brought me, Daemon?" questioned Myotismon.
Daemon explained everything, then gave him the tag and crest. The vampire took it away and enclosed it into his hands, then shoved LadyDevimon into her fellow demon.
"Take her; I don't want her anymore."
Tears brimmed in LadyDevimon's eyes.
"And… what about the land you promised me?" Daemon's eyes narrowed.
"I promise nothing. When you work for me, you must remember that you no longer play by your own rules. I am the one for whom you work; therefore, I and I alone am the unquestioned overlord of the digital world. Servant."
"I'm not a servant to you! I helped you in exchange for land, and you took everything out of my hands. That is not fair, and I demand my crest back!"
"I don't play fair," said the vampire. "Now leave for your precious Dark Ocean and never return." His bats bared their sharp teeth, and he narrowed his eyes as if about to freeze them within. They had heard that the vampire had the power to reconfigure a Mega with a single stare from his eyes and one lash from his Crimson Lightning, and Daemon was much weaker than his appearance suggested, so they dared not fight back.
Eventually, Daemon consented. "You have just made a powerful enemy," he declared as he and a heartbroken LadyDevimon stepped through the portal in the castle from which they entered. "Someday, I shall return for revenge!"
But the revenge was a dish that was never served, for the Demon Corps, in an attempt to enter the castle, were rerouted to Earth, where they decided it would be best to take over. They were unaware of the Dark Archangel above them, and the Digi-Destined were the ones who sent them back to the Dark Ocean. Only their new recruit, InfernoDevimon, had dared to part from the group. Now, as the Archangel lay in his prison cell in Toxidramon's castle, he had a premonition that the tables had turned, and the demons would return to seek their revenge on him.
Toxidramon's unmistakable figure appeared on the other side of the bars in the midst of that familiar green haze that always surrounded him. "Get up, you miserable pile of digital scum!" he commanded, withdrawing a whip, then slipping it deftly between the bars so it struck Myotismon right across his side. He could feel himself bleeding already, and as he touched the wound, red stains appeared on his white gloves.
"CRIMSON—" he began, but only a spark was released from his wrist.
"Did I tell you that you can't attack in this castle?" Toxidramon questioned smugly. "All of my servants are injected with this every night." He held up a syringe no different from DemiDevimon's Demi Dart, but instead of a tar-like, grey liquid, it was filled with a neon-green potion. "This special virus drains the victim of its ability to digivolve or even attack. All they have to their names are their lives and their spirits, and soon yours will be crushed back to the way it was when you were DemiDevimon!"
"You never crushed my spirit," retorted Myotismon. "Why do you think I rebelled against you? Why do you think I received this scar?"
The dragon grimaced, as if he had tasted defeat. "I can see you are as stubborn as you ever were. From the day my Numemon brought you to me, I knew you were different from the others. You had your strong independent streak, and I could see it in your eyes. Every time you looked at me with those eyes, I sensed a threat."
Toxidramon's words seemed familiar…
He remembered.
I said the same thing to Gatomon.
"No matter how much I beat you or punished you, I knew your spirit hadn't shattered at all—if anything, it grew. And then when I thought I had you in my servitude forever, you escaped and sent me here, to this wretched place… where I suffered seeing you accomplish more in thirty days than I had done in my entire life… within the very walls of my palace!
"You may believe that you have succeeded, but I know at last that I have finally crushed your spirit." He paused, relishing the suspense. "Through this." He whipped the mask off of Myotismon's face, exposing the scar. "You've tried to hide me from yourself through this instead of facing the truth that you were, in fact, once a servant. You couldn't bear to tell your henchmen, lest they leave you. You've spent 775 years wrapped in a lie."
"You're WRONG!" shouted Myotismon, placing the mask on his face when it was whipped off again. "It was a gift from my henchmen!"
"Really…" murmured Toxidramon. "But not until they saw you ripping your flesh apart at the wrists. It was your vanity that nearly killed you…"
"You cannot kill the undead," retorted the vampire. "I became immortal when I digivolved."
"Ah, but you would have rather died than spent eternity with disrespectful servants."
"LIAR!" Myotismon shouted again, rushing at the bars but thrown backwards as Toxidramon unleashed his Toxic Crusher. He felt as if every bone in his body was shattered as he fell to the concrete floor below. "You… you lie! How dare you contradict Lord Myotismon?"
He gasped. He had never uttered that last phrase since he was still a vampire. His scar began to burn again, the pain from the heat and the whipping mingling to create one that was even worse than before.
"And you call yourself an angel!" scoffed Toxidramon, turning his back on Myotismon and slowly slinking back into the haze.
Sadly, Toxidramon had been justified in saying that, and Myotismon knew it. The vampire began to wonder if he truly was meant to wear the pure white cape and defend the earth, or if he was worthy of the titles of "Lord" and "Master."
Nothing.
That is what I am—nothing.
I am unworthy of any title bestowed upon me… even Celestial Mode. Why, Azulongmon? Seraphimon? You have deceived yourselves and forsaken me… you wrenched my power from my hands as my Evil began to grow in the digital world once again, and then I am once again deprived… only this time, I am deprived of the goodness for which I was supposed to fight.
Do I mean anything?
Why are you punishing me so?
Why did you give me this title and these robes if you knew I was still evil?
Why did you let Angemon send me to the Dark Ocean?
I am no angel, no Celestial Mode, no Dark Archangel of the Digital World.
And yet, I am not evil, either… or at least it seems that way. If I am evil, I am neither "Lord" nor "Master."
I doubt I even deserve my own name.
I know I am a grown mon… I know I should not cry… yet I know not what I am anymore.
The only thing I know I am is immortal… and I desperately want to die. I have nothing to live for, not even Angewomon or my child. I would never want my child to grow up in a world infected by my Evil… if they were to ever live.
Angewomon… if you do live… do it for my son. I will fight here with what little righteousness I have left in my soul.
In Heaven, Angewomon felt Myotismon through her feverish dream. She felt as if he were there, holding her hand as they fought the illness together… and so were Angemon, and Wizardmon, and TK and Kari and Rena and all the Digi-Destined… and all the Guardians and angels on the Grand Council, and yet… there was someone else fighting with her, knowing her tribulation. She felt it closely, as if this new force was… inside her.
The two, though far apart and in separate dimensions, could not have felt closer to each other than at that very moment. They fought for each other, sensing the other's internal strength. Myotismon now knew that he was not alone, that Angewomon was with him in spirit, likewise Angemon and Wizardmon and his son. He could feel his son's presence now; actually see him as a grown Digimon, shining with the light of a million stars.
He was an angel, with six feathery wings sprouting from his back, covered in a sheet of golden hair. He wore a silver knight's helmet atop his head, and on its crest were feathers as blue as his eyes. Underneath each of his eyes were two blue lines—markings of a warrior. He wore a white bodysuit and scanty silver armor, signifying his strength, which nearly matched his alabaster skin. Myotismon knew his son was an angel.
An angel like his mother… and his father. He could see himself in his child— his ice-blue eyes and shimmery gold locks, his pale skin and pointed incisors, even the lithe, muscular figure he possessed. There were no glints of evil in his eyes— only goodness in his heart. Myotismon knew that he must escape and give every ounce of strength to Angewomon and his firstborn son, who would be named Aeronumon.
The vision of light disappeared as Evil once again entered the dungeons. Toxidramon stepped in the hallway, followed by two familiar figures. The vampire's heart sank, and his stomach began to plummet. Nothing was what it seemed anymore.
"Well, he seems to be as we left him," remarked the unmistakable voice of Daemon, echoing through the halls. "A little scrawnier, and dressed in all white, but he's just the way we remember him."
"Yes," replied Toxidramon. "Only this time, he's rendered powerless and can be manipulated at your disposal. I have his attacks under control thanks to the virus I created, and I kept him prisoner by Lord DemiDevimon's orders."
No… thought Myotismon. It couldn't be…
"Although he insisted that I rough his lighter side up a little more, he told me that the…" --Toxidramon snorted-- "…Celestial Mode's reaction to the vision in the tidepool was more than enough, and sometimes too much of a good thing can turn out bad for us. It seemed that his spirit had been broken enough, and the effects of InfernoDevimon's scar are becoming more and more drastic each day."
What effects of the scar? Could this be why I seem to be transitioning back into Evil?
"Lord DemiDevimon says it is up to you now to create the gateway. I wish you luck with that, Daemon, my friend, as well as with recapturing the Fallen One. I believe he is working directly for our Lord now, but your farce was exactly what we needed to bring him back to the side of Evil. Those who were once angels still possess some threads of goodness, likewise Myotismon Celestial Mode still has seeds of darkness planted in his soul." His voice dropped to a murmur as he spoke to LadyDevimon. "And you, my dear… be sure you impair his judgement through pleasure. Do exactly what you did last time, but Lord DemiDevimon requests that you try to remove his mask and convince him to join you. After all, the Celestial Mode's dark power is what gives Lord DemiDevimon his strength. If I am not mistaken, he has once again digivolved to Devidramon… and we need Devidramon to digivolve to Ultimate and fulfill his plan."
"I am willing to do whatever it takes, Toxidramon," whispered LadyDevimon. "He broke my heart once… and I will make sure he never does it again. Lord Demi— pardon me, Lord Devidramon himself told me about what really pleases him."
"Go," dictated Toxidramon, motioning towards the door. "Go quickly to MarineDevimon's palace, LadyDevimon, and wait for us in the Chamber."
The demoness faded into the shadows as Daemon and Toxidramon drew closer to a frightened Myotismon. Not once in his life had he felt this way; all Digimon were afraid of him. All he knew was that Toxidramon and the Demon Corps were together in a plan… one that involved a fallen angel and his own Shadow Mode, it seemed.
"Myotismon," said Toxidramon to the vampire, who had turned pale and felt his heart beating in his throat. "May I have the pleasure of introducing you to… let's just say he's an old friend of yours."
Daemon stepped into what little light shone in the dungeons, eyes shining brightly underneath his hood. He exhaled through his nostrils as if scornful or about to fight, but he said nothing and remained still. It was frightening in its own way, and the vampire saw himself reflected in the demon. When he still ruled Server, the way he remained silent and still intimidated his henchmen and even his enemies. And now… he was the enemy and Daemon was him.
"What do you want with me, D-Daemon?" demanded Myotismon, attempting not to sound frightened. "Have you not… learned your lesson last time we saw each other?"
"Why would I be intimidated by you?" asked the demon. "You're locked up… almost as if you were one of Toxidramon's servants." He chuckled to himself and seemed to glance at the half-man-half-dragon. "But… we have made a bargain with him to set you free… free from his clutches. You must, once again, make love to LadyDevimon, who has been mourning your loss for the hundreds of years we have spent trapped in this godforsaken hellhole."
The vampire's stomach plummeted and his head whirled. He was married to Angewomon and was only committed to her. He had been a very sexual being when he ruled Server, but as an angel, he felt true love for one womon and therefore made love to her the vampiric way. The more traditional method humans utilized had been nothing but to fill his empty void and appetite for lust. And now, even that method was considered adulterous if done to a being other than Angewomon.
"No!" he demanded. "Never will I stoop so low as to be unfaithful to Angewomon, my true love to whom I am married!"
"Ah," said Toxidramon, "but if you love Angewomon so much and want to return to her… couldn't you cheat on her once?"
"Never. I will remain faithful to our wedding vows until the end, and that is final."
"I know what's happening," said Daemon. "I know she's so ill she's in danger of dying, and so is your unborn child. If you don't return to her soon, both of them will be wiped from the face of reality forever. You know your virus has the potential to wipe Digimon out of existence permanently… and only you can heal her, as Wizardmon and Angewomon are about to discover. If you want her to live, you had better satiate LadyDevimon's appetite immediately."
Myotismon stared ahead of him, caught between a rock and a hard place. If he broke his vows, Angewomon would live, but if he remained faithful, she would die.
It seemed then as if she were speaking to him.
I understand, echoed her voice. In the name of love, nothing is unjustified. I'll be with you through this. Just imagine me in LadyDevimon's place, and everything will be fine.
The vision of Aeronumon in Myotismon's head seemed to nod in agreement and hold his hand.
It was clear what he had to commit.
"Daemon," said Myotismon, "in exchange for my freedom, I consent to LadyDevimon's requests. Take me to her!"
The door to the cell slid open and banged against the wall, and the monster and the demon parted so the vampire could walk between them. They escorted him through the dungeon halls and out of the dank, hazy castle interior. A stagecoach drawn by a MegaDramon and a GigaDramon appeared outside, and Daemon motioned for Myotismon to step inside. It was much like the interior of his own stagecoach, only the sense that the transportation was part of him had been replaced by fear and anticipation. The carriage, with Daemon and Toxidramon bringing up the rear, floated into the air and jolted as it took off into the distance above the ocean. The vampire felt as if he were alone, enveloped by trepidation. There was no turning back.
To be continued…