Till Death Do Us Part

“Do you, Yagami Hikari, take Takaishi Takeru to be your lawfully wedded husband, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

Hikari swallowed to push back the lump in her throat, just long enough to whisper the words “I do.” She beamed at her husband’s face, at the same time nervous and stony, excited and worried. She didn’t blame him for his doubts; after all, the same thoughts had flooded through her mind a few hours ago, before the ceremony.

But now she took his hand and squeezed, her heart surging as he squeezed back. She turned towards the minister as he spoke, turned with Takeru and looked out at their families and friends, Digimon and Human alike. It looked as though the world(s) had decided to be present for their wedding, even when they’d insisted that it be a small one. Nevertheless, all of them had shown up, sitting at their rightful places in the front rows.

Hikari smiled as she watched her mother straighten Taichi’s tie, ignoring his embarrassed look and plaintively whispered protests. Mimi and Miyako were bawling their eyes out, while Daisuke ran back and forth between them handing out tissues. Sora was clutching onto Yamato’s hand, his eyes shining with unspoken pride. Iori and Ken had quiet smiles on their faces, and Koushiro was leaning against the wall, watching over a tearful Jyou. Natsuko was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and Hiroaki was blinking his eyes rapidly. The Digimon were mainly quiet as they looked on with gentle smiles on their faces, although Hikari noticed that Patamon and Gatomon were holding paws.

She looked over at her husband, smiling. Takeru smiled back, his sapphire eyes twinkling and filled with love.

Taichi was among those who cheered the loudest as the bride and groom kissed. Hikari inwardly giggled, wondering whether it was because her brother really liked weddings, or whether it was more like he was ecstatic that she chose Takeru over Daisuke.

(-)(-)(-)

Takeru paced the house as Hikari chewed on her lower lip. She knew that she shouldn’t have decided before Takeru had, but she had fallen in love with the old Meiji era-style two-story house from the moment she’d first looked upon it. The expansive living room had large windows on every wall, lighting the room in daylight as brightly as the outside. She could already imagine it glittering like a diamond from the lights at night. The kitchen was made for a servant, but had the feel of welcoming a self-made cook in its own right. Hikari had made up her mind to have both of those worlds, as soon as she’d learnt to cook.

However, if Takeru didn’t want to buy the house… no, she couldn’t think that. Takeru would love the house, and they would buy it, and fill it with memories of themselves to add to the memories from countless other families. It had to be that way; no other outcome even seemed possible.

The housing agent seemed even more anxious than Hikari, following the couple around and rattling off about all the features of the house, its large rooms, two stories, dual fireplaces, upstairs and downstairs, et cetera, et cetera. As if to cap the deal, he quoted a price: several million Yen below the one Hikari had anticipated.

She nearly swooned at the thought.

Takeru, however, was suspicious. “Why is it so cheap?” he asked. “What’s wrong with it?”

Hikari had to fight down her scream of frustration. She knew that their adventures in the digital world had taught him to be more wary and careful around other people, and she admitted that it was a valuable quality that had saved them on more than one occasion. But this time it was different; couldn’t he see that it was the perfect dream home?!

The agent seemed to hesitate. After a while, though, he reluctantly spoke. “Well… you see sir, this house… it’s rumored to be haunted.”

Hikari gasped. Takeru’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

“Well, it’s said that the house used to be a asylum for the criminally insane in the past… and one such patient… was a mass murderer,” the agent breathed out.

Hikari went white, placing a hand over her mouth. All of a sudden the house she loved seemed to grow colder, as it began to take on a more darker and sinister atmosphere. She could imagine the house at night, its thick curtains closed, but unable to shut out the bone chilling screams of the damned… the mad. It must have been a peek into Hell itself.

Takeru waved a hand dismissively. “Bakabakashi!” he scoffed. Turning towards Hikari he caught her gaze, eyes concerned over her pallor. “The house is perfect,” he turned back, defying the agent’s story. “We’ll take it.”

(-)(-)(-)

Hikari busied herself with the details: decorating the great rooms, the bedrooms, filling the kitchen with equipment and – to her delight – the smells of her own cooking.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was there, watching them. It was especially bad at night, as though a malevolent presence was in their room, staring at them with a hatred that surpassed any kind of mortal understanding.

She’d woken up several times with a start, waking Takeru, who would hold her tight and tell her soothingly that it was nothing. But her eyes told a different story: the shadowy form of a person glaring at her, its eyes seemingly absorbing the light around them.

No…no, it couldn’t be that. She simply had the jitters. Yes, that would be it. It was the post-wedding nervousness, as well as the new house fears. That’s all it was.

…Wasn’t it?

It was now nighttime, and she was lying in bed, snuggling next to Takeru more for the sense of security than the warmth his body provided. He was lying on his back, one armed tucked behind her head, the other around her shoulder, almost protectively.

She soon felt him sink into slumber, and she had almost fallen asleep herself when she suddenly felt it. Without stirring she lifted her head just a centimeter off her pillow, looking into the corner of the room behind Takeru.

There it was: not far from where Patamon and Gatomon were sleeping Hikari could see the shape, vaguely human, with eyes that seem to suck the light around them. She could almost smell the evil that was reeking from that corner, choking her. Her heart stopped, her mouth in a perfect ‘O’ in readiness for the scream that was about to erupt from her throat.

She jerked up, ready to bolt, her mind already in the state of blind panic.

Suddenly something grabbed her arm. She whirled around, shrieking and lashing out, knowing that the screams would be her last…

Her gaze locked onto the sapphire eyes of her husband. Takeru relaxed his grip as he realized her terror, but his voice was a small whisper, barely audible above the pounding in her ears.

“Don’t leave, Hikari. That’s what it wants.”

The fear subsided a little, but it was still cold, like ice through her veins. “Kimi… you’ve seen it too?”

“He’s not the only one,” Gatomon’s shaky voice spoke, as she and Patamon arrived beside them. Takeru was silent, eyes closed, his breathing even, but catching ever so slightly. Hikari slowly relaxed, and as she did, so did they. When he finally opened his eyes, he was calmer, the blue like a soft wind coursing through her troubled thoughts. She looked into them as he spoke, feeling not only more secure, but protected as she saw the emotions coursing through his eyes.

“I don’t actually see what you describe… but I hear it… a voice on the edge of my subconscious, just as I’m falling asleep. It says that all it has to do is to get me alone… and that is the end.”

“Almost every time when you wake up, so do we, and the voice stops,” Patamon added.

Shuddering Hikari wrapped her arms around them, surprised when Takeru’s arms snaked around her shoulders in response. “Don’t worry guys… I won’t leave you alone.”

“You promise?” Patamon asked. Takeru didn’t respond, but squeezed her shoulder when she whispered the next words:

“Hai, I promise.”

(-)(-)(-)

Days passed into months. The trees began to change colors, and were shedding their leaves in preparation for the long winter ahead.

Hikari loved the days, strolling in the cold breezes, bundled against them in sweaters and stocking cap, arm-in-arm with her husband with their Digimon beside them, or puttering through the old house, discovering its hidden joys and filling it with her own.

The nights… for a while, they had gotten better, during the brightness of spring and the heat of the summer. Now with autumn growing heavy in the air, the nights became more oppressive and foreboding, especially on the days when Takeru worked late.

And tonight was one of those nights.

“Takeru… come home!” Hikari said it softly, almost whispering, but he couldn’t possibly tell through the line how terrified he was, huddled on the stairs and clutching the phone so tightly that her knuckles shone white from the strain. “Please, Takeru, come home!”

His voice was reluctant, soft and even. “Sorry love, I can’t; I have to finish this. Patamon and I will be home soon, okay?” his voice softened more. “It’s just the cold, Hikari… the cold is bringing the old fear back… there’s nothing to fear.”

Hikari swallowed. She knew he was right, but he wasn’t here. Things would be so much better if he were. Still, she put on a brave voice, marred only by her involuntary quiver. “H-hai… it’s only the cold.”

“That’s my brave Light,” his voice was now filled with the shining love she sought. That was the reason she wanted him here, as she couldn’t see him through the phone, and she felt alone, even though there was Gatomon, and his voice in her ear.

“He’s right, you know,” Gatomon remarked. “They’ll be alright; it’s probably just the cold and our overactive imaginations.”

Hikari chuckled. Yet, something in the back of her mind felt relief that Takeru wasn’t here. Wasn’t it he that the… entity, for lack of a better term, wanted? Wasn’t it he that the entity wanted alone?

And he and Patamon were alone out there, weren’t they?

However, the entity was right here. Trapped, she supposed. And she was trapped with it.

No. It was like what Takeru and Gatomon said: it was the cold, the sounds of the wind in her house, and her imagination that brought he feelings back. She could get through this. She was Takaishi Hikari, Child of Light.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Gatomon added. “It’ll go away in a few days.”

Hikari nodded, placing the phone on its rack and headed upstairs towards her bedroom. She walked into the bathroom, hoping that the bright lights would dispel the oppressing feeling on her, weighing her down, making her nervous and jittery. The only mirror in the room was in the medicine cabinet, but she didn’t intend to use it anyway. Opening the cabinet she reached out and took a bottle of sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed for her. She opened the bottle, tapped out a couple of pills and began to shut the door.

Just then something in the mirror caught her eye, and slowly she turned around to face it.

The bottle fell to the floor with a clatter. Hikari stood, shivers turning into near-convulsions, a whimper rising in her suddenly dry throat.

For the face staring back at her was not her own: it grinned back at her, its light-absorbing eyes leering at her from under long, tapered eyelashes. Long blond hair tumbled in a mess around her shoulders, framing her gaunt face and thinner, cruel lips. She sneered, and her shoulders were shaking with silent, demonic laughter. As Hikari watched, frozen in place, the woman in the mirror mouthed a single word.

Soon.

The scream now burst forth, and she bolted, running helter-skelter down the staircase to the doorway while grabbing Gatomon in the process, desperate to escape the evil of the house.

She collided into someone, screeched and stumbled backwards, crawling to get away. The figure rose, slowly and turned towards her in the darkness.

“Hikari??”

That voice, his voice, freed her from the paralyzing lump in her throat, and she shrieked loud and long, unable to pull it back now that it was free.

Takeru knelt down beside her, worry etched on his and Patamon’s face, yet sanity slipped on the brink of her soul, threatening to fling it into the abyss. Takeru pulled her close and held her, and that act alone pulled her sanity from oblivion.

She began to cry, sobbing against his chest as the horrifying image of the mirror-woman pulled at the edge of that fear, tugging it back to the black depths. She clung to him, her Hope, a lifeline, until the image faded. Only then did her breathing begin to steady.

Takeru gently pushed her from his chest, looking down at her tear-stained face, brushing wild hair around it. Her lip trembled, keeping her from peaking her fears, and she realized that she didn’t want to. His eyes questioned her, and she smiled weakly, finally finding her voice.

“G-gomenasai… it was nothing, darling… I let my imagination run wild, and I panicked… I’m so sorry…”

He didn’t look very convinced, but nodded anyways. Together they got up, and climbed the staircase, Takeru holding Hikari protectively, so tightly that he didn’t feel her recoil as they passed the bathroom.

(-)(-)(-)

She sat up slowly, looking around the room and clutching the blanket to her throat. Nothing was there that made its presence apparent. No shadowy figure in the corner, no hideous woman bursting out of the bathroom… in fact, before she had awoken she had slept more peacefully than she had in months.

So what woke her?

She tried to swallow, and her throat felt like it was on fire, dry as the Sahara. That had awakened her.

She stood up, wavering slightly, and looked down. Takeru, Patamon and Gatomon usually awoke when she did, but now he slept, breathing shallowly.

So many things had happened lately, so much worry… she didn’t want to wake them. Besides, she was only getting a drink.

An image of the mirror appeared in her mind, along the hideous woman laughing inside it, and Hikari shuddered. Downstairs. She would go downstairs and get a glass of water.

Downstairs she felt almost comfortable, freer. It felt even safer than upstairs. Had she grown so used to the terror that she didn’t even notice it anymore? No, no… the night was just so wonderful, that was all it could be. She walked over to the stairs and stepped on the first step.

It was almost as if it burned her, that sensation of terror rising up through her feet like a living flame, causing her to gasp and step back.

Hikari stared up the darkened stairwell, shivering. She couldn’t go up there; she couldn’t make herself do it.

You’re being ridiculous, she scolded herself. There’s nothing up there but Takeru, Patamon and Gatomon.

Besides, it said that all it had to do was to get me alone.

Don’t worry, guys… I won’t leave you alone. I promise.

With a strangled cry she fought her fear, struggling to climb the stairs. At first she staggered, then she gripped the banister and hoisted herself up. The fear rose up inside her, but she fought it, climbing up as quickly as she could.

She couldn’t dispel the sinking feeling that she was already too late.

She reached the door, panting from her Herculean effort, and grasped the knob, twisting it frantically. Takeru and the Digimon should have heard her by now, so why weren’t any of them answering? The panic surged; with a burst of strength she threw the door open…

…and screamed.

For the scene before her was something straight out of her worst nightmares, out of her deepest, darkest and primal fears: the room was literally splashed with red, darkening around the edges but still vibrant in the center. On the bed, dyed in the same crimson, was the battered and torn husk of a body, arms upraised at the elbows, fingers clawing the air as though fighting for its life. Stuck in the center of its hollowed-out torso was a knife with a large blade, buried into the flesh like some conqueror’s flag. Only the head and face were untouched, the vacant eyes bulging with abject terror, his mouth clamped shut as if he had used the last of his breath to fight instead of scream.

And right beside the body was the body of orange-white hamster, ripped cleanly in two. A white cat’s disemboweled carcass was lying spread-eagle on top of it.

Something touched her bare foot, and she looked down. A red rivulet had dripped from the soaked bedcovers and rundown the floor as a stream, touching it. Surprisingly it was stone cold.

Screaming blue murder she bolted, nearly tripping herself over the stairs and flinging herself out the door.

(-)(-)(-)

“Are you sure they won’t mind, Yamato?” Sora stared nervously out the car window as they passed through the trees.

“Ahhh, you worry too much,” Yamato smirked, eyes on the road. “They’ve been secluded for almost an entire year in that house, and Takeru only leaves for work. They need to see other people for a change.”

“Besides,” added Taichi in the back seat. “I want to see whether or not Takeru has been ill-treating Hikari. If he has…” he joked, mock-cracking his knuckles. “I’ll kill him!”

“Yeah right!” Sora retorted. “Hikari means the world to Takeru; he wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“I know… I’m just kidding. Brotherly concern, ya know?”

The three of them laughed, and Yamato sped up the car a little bit.

They soon reached the house, and for some strange reason a sense of dread filled Yamato. He bolted out of the car, followed by Sora and Taichi.

The house looked empty from the outside; they had been there when Takeru and Hikari had first bought it. It looked bright and cheery at the time, but now it looked as though something had sucked the life right out of it.

“Yamato!!”

Taichi and Sora had stopped by the open front door, where Hikari huddled, shivering in the cold autumn air. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, and she was clutching her knees to her chest, rocking slowly. Taichi knelt next to his sister, placing his hand on her shoulder, but got no response.

“Hikari? What happened? Where’s Takeru?” There was no answer, and Taichi looked up with a worried look on his face.

Yamato knelt down as well, and then he spotted the horribly familiar red stain on her leg. Blood. His heart seized.

“Oh, Kami-sama… Hikari, what the hell… what did you do?” His panic rocketed. “What the hell did you do?!”

Hikari slowly raised her head, her eyes doleful and her voice low and haunted. “I left him alone…” she began to shake violently, her voice coming out in whimpers. “I left them alone… and that was what it wanted… I promised I wouldn’t leave them alone!! I promised!!”

Taichi and Yamato immediately dashed up the stairs, following the trail of blood that was too small to come from a killer, running as much to escape her madness as well as to find out what happened. They stopped at the door, gasping.

They were still gaping, trying to register the scene before them, when they heard footsteps behind them. They knew who it was before she spoke.

“Don’t look, Sora…” Yamato choked out. “For Kami’s sake, don’t look…”

But he didn’t move to stop her, nor did Taichi.

Sora turned away after seeing it, her eyes shut tight. “Oh Kami, Y-Yamato…” she clutched her abdomen, forcing down her body’s reaction to the carnage. “Yamato, Taichi… what – who did this?!”

Yamato’s reaction was vehement. “Hikari.” He moved towards the stairs, hesitatingly at first, then more determined. Taichi and Sora rushed to stop him.

“Matte!”

“Get out of my way,” Yamato growled.

“Yamato, wait…” Sora pulled him short, staring into his eyes. “She didn’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?! Who else is here then?” Yamato’s face was contorted with grief and rage.

“Yamato, think about it for a sec,” Taichi cut in. “She’s got one spot of blood on her, and there’s a mark on the floor, right there. Other than them, she doesn’t have blood anywhere else on her body. She’s terrified, Yamato… does she look like she’s in the condition to change clothes and wash up before coming downstairs and panicking?!”

Yamato snarled, causing Taichi to recoil involuntarily. “She’s acting!” Even as he said it, he knew that Hikari wasn’t capable of this sort of deception. However, he had already said it, on impulse or not, and he couldn’t take it back.

Taichi’s eyes flared. “Are you calling my sister a liar?!” he shouted, fists clenched.

“Stop it, both of you!!” Sora snapped. “Taichi, go make sure Hikari’s alright. Yamato, go alert the police.”

As the two boys went down the stairs, Sora looked back at the room, cringing as the stench assailed her nostrils.

(-)(-)(-)

Hikari arched her aching back, rubbing her eyes. The light from the single lamp in her office cast only a large enough pool to see her work, and little else. Still, she looked at the clock beside her and sighed.

11:50 P.M.

It had been a rare night, lately, that she had gone to sleep remotely anywhere before 11:00 P.M. anymore, often much, much later. It was simply easier to work until she collapsed from exhaustion rather than to deal with the memories that had plagued her for a year.

A year… only a year. It seemed so long ago, and yet seemed like yesterday. If she closed her eyes, she could still see… No. She was not going to think about that. She’d promised herself.

She rubbed her eyes, which were now probably bloodshot, and raw enough to be less eyes than pieces of granite scraping against her eyelids.

Yes, it was time for bed.

But bedtime wasn’t the same now, was it? Not without him… or them.

She dropped her pen onto her stack of assignments and stood, stretching herself. She seemed older than she knew herself to be.

One year. Could she have changed so much during that time?

But of course, given what she had been through. The horrors of the weeks after that night were blurry, but everything before it was clear as crystal. Even after she’d managed to convince Yamato, Taichi, Jyou and the other doctors that she wasn’t insane, she still saw her: the woman in the mirror. Each time that woman laughed soundlessly, pierced Hikari with her terrible eyes, each time Hikari’s heart stopped. But she knew what it was now. A figment of her imagination, like Gatomon said. No one could possibly have those type of eyes, or the madness in them.

And nothing else could possibly have that long eyebrows, she thought with a dark humor.

It still chilled her, though, the way the evil visage mocked her, taunted her… she could still see it mouthing the word: Soon.

Bone-weary, she climbed up the stairs slowly. A timid form peeked out of a bedroom before opening the door, poking her head out.

“Going to bed already, Takaishi-san?”

Hikari smiled. It was Tomoko, the little maid who had moved in after… a year ago, for support. Tomoko was more than a little timid. So much so that the squeak of a mouse was enough to send her scuttling into a corner. And yet she was here, braving the large, lonely house.

Hikari smiled sleepily. “Hai, Tomoko. I’m exhausted. You should turn in as well…”

“Yes, ma’am.” The little woman bowed, closing the door with a click. The click resounded throughout the house, and Hikari had to suppress a shudder. Even with Tomoko in the house, she had never felt more alone.

She walked into the bedroom, looking through it. The bed was new, of course. She had done everything to cover up the memory of that night, taken down the old wallpaper, refurnished and carpeted the floor. Even the curtains were replaced. All by herself. However, despite advice from Tomoko, Miyako, Mimi and even Sora, she couldn’t bring herself to move out.

It was all that was left of Takeru, Patamon and Gatomon.

She turned to the closet, pulling out a long, woolen nightgown. Slipping it on, she tuned towards the bed, the same time a gust blew past her, chilling her to the bone. She froze at the sight before her.

There was a large shape on the bed, under the covers. A bulge that she knew wasn’t there before. Hikari bit her lip, fighting the urge to run.

Taichi had done this. Or Daisuke. Yes, that was it! Either of them had done this; they were real pranksters.

Except that lately, neither Taichi nor Daisuke were feeling mischievous.

It must’ve been her parents, then. They must’ve sent her a gift, without thinking what night it was, of the fact that it would terrify her to get it this way.

Except that, throughout her life, her parents had always given to her in person.

Hikari inched towards the bed, frightened, hands clenched to her chest and eyes plastered on the lump in her bed. Hadn’t she turned it back before she retrieved her nightgown? Had she let the pillow drop to the floor? No… it was neither of that.

Slowly her hand reached out, pulling the covers back in a flourish… and a black smoke billowed from the center of the bed, a writhing mist that slowly took shape, forming into –

The name caught in her throat, but she forced it out anyway. “T-Takeru…”

But it couldn’t be. Takeru was dead. Dead, died one year ago on this very day…

He reached for her, but his eyes, eerie, colorless, sucking the bare light from the moon, caused her to step back. Her heart pounded, her knees weakened. Yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

Over his shoulder was the woman, grinning evilly and laughing silently. Two more forms, a cat and a winged hamster were right beside her.

Patamon’s voice carried like a whisper on a soft breeze, cold, freezing her to the marrow. “You promised… you promised you wouldn’t leave us alone, Hikari…”

“You broke your promise, Hikari…” Gatomon spoke.

She shook her head wildly, her throat too dry to speak. She sunk to the floor as the Takeru-wraith floated towards her, a shiny object in his hand.

“Didn’t you say ‘till death do us part’, Hikari?” Takeru’s voice was cold, unfeeling. “I’m going to make you keep that promise.”

Her eyes finally moved, trailing to the object in his hand. A knife too big to be real…

His hand flashed up, and then down. The last thing she saw was the crimson spray of her own blood. She screamed, a long, howling shriek of agony, fear and grief.

But it was too late.

(-)(-)(-)

“Could you repeat that again, Mrs. Kurihara?”

“I found her…” Tomoko’s voice shook, and she wrung her hands on her apron. The couch she was sitting on seemed to swallow her whole. “I found… what was left of her… there was so much blood… everywhere… and she… she…” the maid shut her eyes. “Her eyes were still open… but there was nothing left of her chest…”

“I see…” the police inspector mused. “Was there anything else?”

Tomoko sunk into the couch. “I saw her… I saw them all…”

“Who?”

“I saw them before I left… Takaishi-san… her husband… a hamster and a cat… and another woman…” she took a deep shuddering breath.

“Inspector, their eyes… they – they seemed to swallow the light!”

Grendelmon: (Kissing wad of bills) Mmmmm… sweet, sweet money…

Anyways, review if you’d like.