Disclaimer: Digimon's not mine. I'm far too scared of the fanbrats.
Daisuke's primary concern was his sludge-covered face. The vile-smelling... substance, for lack of a better word, was every-friggin-where: in his eyes, his ears, his hair, up his nose and, the gods forbid, coating his mouth. V-mon was twisting his arm behind his back, and Daisuke would have been proud of the little guy had he not been the one stuck in the incredibly strong grip. At that point, hundreds of small paws appeared out of nowhere and Daisuke knew he was in a pickle. A dirty, dirty pickle. As if to confirm that sentiment, V-mon somehow wrestled the struggling boy into pressing his face in the... muddy substance a second time.
Getting revenge was always sweet, but there was only so much misery V-mon was okay with inflicting upon his partner, no matter how much they might both have to wade through because of Daisuke. They always pulled it off in the end, didn't they? His thoughts were suddenly interrupted with the chittering and... squishy sound of hundreds upon hundreds of rodents.
Khumbiramon? the dragon digimon first thought.
His partner's screaming, however, rapidly corrected that.
"Rats! Ack! Ack!"
As a matter of principles, Daisuke was not scared of creatures smaller then himself. He admitted to caution at best (such as when faced with a shinai-wielding Iori), but not fear. Small creatures didn't eat big ones, after all, did they? Okay, there had been that program on parasites that had left him seriously... worried about raw beef, but he was over it now. Daisuke was not normally scared of creatures smaller than himself. In theory.
In practice, stuck in the dark, smelly bowels of Tokyo like a roundworm in a three-days dead piece of livestock, without any source of light after the flashlight had fallen off in the mud, and with small, noisy mammals running all over him, their mouths chittering fractions of inches away from his skin, Daisuke was scared. Scared like the turtle fated to soon meet the ground at high. Daisuke was terrorized just like that day he'd been faced with a 30-feet long Monochromon (Now that was something worth getting scared over!) The boy sprung up, his partner being propelled through the musky air like an Aki ball. The digimon unceremoniously flung his arms around his partner's neck and let his body bump into Daisuke's back.
And the screeching and moaning coming down the tunnel weren't helping either. The only thing Daisuke could compare it to was a duet of Agumon and Jun singing under the shower and being interrupted by by the girl's wails of pain as the lizard stomped on her foot. Daisuke spared a precious half-second to thoroughly obliterate the thought of his sister and Agumon in the shower before he came back to the matter at end.
A hand dashed and collected, first a rat, which was launched in the distance with a soprano scream V-mon never would have believed his partner capable of, then a flashlight that was hastily cleaned. And there was light. And Daisuke saw that it could have been better.
A moving carpet of small creature scurried down the tunnel, far too scared to do so much as look at the boy, much less munch on him. This matter secured, Daisuke took matter and digimon in his own hands and, V-mon safely tucked under his left arm, dashed down the corridor as if all the demons of hell (or at least a single, noisy one) were after him. The yelling rapidly decreased to a less hairdress-revising level.
"Daisuke?" the digimon suddenly piped up.
"What?" Daisuke panted back between two breaths.
"I thought we were looking for sewer crocodile!"
Daisuke glanced behind himself and didn't see a thing.
"Tell you what, I'm not so sure anymore!"
Before V-mon could protest more, he added:
"Of course, if you insist, I can plop you here so you can have a look at whatever's scared the shit out of all these rats first hand."
V-mon gulped and shook his head.
"I sort of like the prospect of seeing the outside light again, actually," he squeaked. "Which way is 'outside', anyway?"
Now it was Daisuke's turn to gulp. Sure, he had figured he could trace his way back to the entrance whenever he wanted, and had mentally kept track of every turn and nook the pair had taken with that in mind. However, in their panicked escape, that had been all unceremoniously flung out the window much like a yakuza's recently earned money. Having taken a side-tunnel to recover some lost breath, Daisuke let his head drop.
"I think it should be this way," he pointed in a random direction.
V-mon's mouth formed into a mute "O," but before he could say anything, the pair was submerged with a foul smell far worse than the one exhaled by the grime they were still mostly covered in. Just as their nose was closing the lock and shutting down, the same screeching and moaning that had been moving along terrorized herds of musical-minded rats began to echo down that bit of tunnel. The human and digimon looked at each others with the same look of you've-gotta-be-friggin-joking-me disbelief.
The screeching reverberated between the metallic viscers of their prison like the hypnotic chant of a priest holding a sacrificial dagger. While the image would have, in any other circumstance, brought sniggers to the boys, it now only made them shake harder. They took off and dashed down the tunnel again, only caring to put as much distance between themselves and the no doubt roswellian horror (because Daisuke, as one would expect, knows nothing of lovecraftian horrors) swearing in some forgotten language that it would... Well, maybe all it wanted was to take them and pet them and give them a good bath, but the pair was far too scared to consider this possibility.
When another, higher-pitched screech came from somewhere in front of them, Daisuke really started to wonder why he had wanted to come down there in the first place.
Somewhere else, on the black screen of a red D-3 digivice, a blue and a purple dot were rapidly approaching a pair of green and red dots.