Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, nor the Evanescence song "My Immortal," from which this title is derived.
Intro and Author's Note: This is my third one-shot that is an alternate universe like many of my others, as well as my first songfic and first R-rated story. The rating is to be safe, since this is much darker and more intensely violent than the borderline "Gate of Destiny." There's no sex. Also, I got plenty of inspiration from the Evanescence CD as well as other stories I have read. One more thing: feedback would do me good, since I have never done anything like this before. Tell me if I should lighten up, or you enjoyed it, or something constructive. My only request for reviews is NO FLAMES PLEASE! Thanks. By the way, it is written in Gatomon's POV. Despite the length that is possibly over 10,000 words… Enjoy!
Primary Village in the beginning… the outside world on File Island as an in-training… in fact, all the world outside of Nightmare Castle was once my safe haven. A world where I never knew of darkness, pain, fear, or death. A world I took for granted.
I was a rookie when it all began. I remember that night vividly, where all four melancholy elements came to me. I should have never been alone in the deepest glen and the darkest forest, where the tall black trees loom above you like wooden giants, their gnarled, black, leafless branches bending downwards like claw-like skeleton hands, seemingly about to grab you by your neck and slowly crush your throat, cutting off all breathing, any moment—
The moon was full, but gray clouds gathered in the bluish-black sky above, thicker than stone, so opaque they blocked out the moon wherever the wind blew them in that direction. It was ideal for producing fear.
I could feel it running through my veins, surging through my blood and freezing me from the inside out. The fur on my back prickled as it stood on end, and a shiver was sent down my spire as I realized I had wandered off course— while searching for an unknown identity, I made sure to remain on path— from the security of the outside world to this haunted forest.
I brusquely turned my head in all directions possible, searching for an exit, any evidence of the normal portion of Server at all. I left no footprints; the path was covered with fallen leaves. I saw nothing above me except for the skeleton branches moving and cracking as a freezing draft cascaded through the forest. Around me, the trunks of the trees extended up to the sky, visible in the unearthly bluish glow emitted by the moonlight. Below me was a dusty path dotted with rocks and leaves and ancient tree stumps covered with teal moss. In the direction where I apparently was headed, I saw the trees bend toward each other to form a mouth of darkness that led to an unknown destination.
I felt watched.
I saw a winged shape fly above me and squeak, its slanted eyes glowing crimson. I recognized the wings as those of bats… it was a digital bat. My heart pounded in my ears as I gasped. If it spotted me, it could summon its swarm to devour me alive… I heard gruesome tales of unsuspecting digimon who entered the forest and were never heard from for moons until their acquaintances found nothing on the ground… either nothing or skeletons, picked clean with tiny teeth marks on the bone, bloodstains on the ground…
My eyes were glued to the bat. All of a sudden, the worst happened. Its eyes met mine, and it swooped downwards, dive-bombing my head. I let out a scream and ran as fast as my legs could manage until I tripped over a damn tree root and hit the ground hard.
I looked up and saw the dreaded bat about to attack me and allow me to reconfigure so prematurely. It let out an ear-piercing screece that made me flinch and cover my sensitive ears. Then it fluttered back into the mouth of darkness.
Still… someone was watching me.
The breeze ceased. The air was still. All of a sudden, what little sliver of moon was left got completely obliterated by a large battleship of a cloud, turning all of my surroundings to black. The wind began again, increasing to a gale, hissing in the branches and blowing whatever debris was around into my face. I began to cry as the wind howled like a pack of bloodthirsty Wolfmons zeroing in on their kill.
I heard a thousand fluttering bat wings and half as many screeching voices, then five hundred pairs of blood-red eyes opening and closing, getting close to me.
I braced myself for my end, my bloody end, squeezing my eyes shut.
I felt nothing.
I gathered the courage to open my eyes. I warily glanced above me, and saw all five hundred bats hanging upside-down in the trees above. Their eyes were open and staring at the cave made by the branches. It was truly frightening.
I felt watched as well as perplexed. How come the bats were not eating me as legends led me to believe?
"Is… anyone… there?" I asked, my throat feeling choked up.
I heard another voice that was deeply chuckling to itself, it seemed. It was so captivating, so deep and rich, beautiful but haunting, and so full of firmness and authority but quite seductive. It was all so far away and echoing, yet it seemed closer than it sounded. I longed to hear it again.
"Who… who are you?" I stammered, sounding choked up. "Who is there?" You are hearing things.
"I know who you are, Salamon," said the mysterious male voice, drawing closer than ever. "I know you are desperately seeking one that you do not know the identity of."
The voice in my head, my common sense, seemed to speak to me. He might be the one.
But how did he know who I am?
He must be the one if he knew.
My mind was racing with possible ideas, debating with myself over whether to listen to him despite knowing absolutely nothing about him, and whether or not he was even good.
My mental battle was abruptly ceased by a figure standing before me, hidden in the shadows. The beholder of the voice. "Come with me and you will know," he tempted me. "You will find the one who you are looking for."
I should have run away when I had the chance. But overcome with curiosity and desperation to find the one I was searching for, I warily followed the dark man into the "mouth" of the trees, seeing that he wore a cape that glided behind him. Nothing was spoken, although the bats following me frightened me that I would be mauled to death at any point, and my mind was racing with questions.
Finally we reached our destination, and he turned around, and the cloud blew away, revealing him in the moonlight. He was so physically handsome, I could not draw my eyes away from him. Everything seemed so perfect… from his well-groomed golden hair that was combed back from his face except for three stray strands… his pale blue skin, adequately-sculpted figure, strong chin, and well-chiseled face. His captivating eyes, shining like icy sapphires, were so sexy I found myself staring into them. But sadly, I could not see everything for a crimson mask with tips that appeared to be shaped like bat wings concealed the upper part of his face. His cape was black on the outside, red on the interior, and was clasped to his suit by a golden bat brooch. His blue medieval-style suit fit him quite amply, and was lined in gold and had two magenta bat symbols on the sleeves. Around his quite thin waist were two black leather belts. He also donned ash-colored gloves with bat tableaus on them and black leather boots with a shiny silver bat on one, a skull on the other.
I got a sense of déjà vu. I had heard a description that fit him before.
"We are nearly there, Salamon," he assured me silently and seductivel. As his lips curled up into a half-smile, I saw pearly white teeth… there were two quite pointy incisors that could not be ignored. Were those fangs I saw? Yes.
I did not dare ask questions as he took me in another direction. I heard the bats follow him.
No doubt the bats are his, I thought to myself.
As we pushed two bushes aside, I saw it for the first time. It was a dark stagecoach supported by a metal frame, intricately detailed with metal studs lining the sides of its body. Its windows had no glass in them, and they were framed in copper. The wooden wheels had a bat carved in each. A cloaked phantom sat in the front, holding the leather reins that also bound two menacing black dragon-like digimon that did not struggle to escape.
"This will be your ride to your destiny," the strange male told me.
"You… you never told me your name," I murmured to him.
He bared his fangs in a sinister grin. A chill ran down my spine. "They call me by the name of—"
The Devidramon on the left roared, then stomped its front feet. Smoke was spurting from its nostrils and mouth, showing that it was impatient in awaiting departure. I cowered behind the man's feet, still not knowing his name.
"Don't be afraid of the Devidramon," laughed the mon. Then his voice grew serious. "Reserve all your fear for me. For all digimon in this world have feared me ever since the dar I digviolved form my champion form into this: the full glory of my ultimate. My name, when spoke, strikes fear into the hearts of all those who hear it. And you, like all my new henchmen, will learn to fear it as well."
I said nary a word. My eyes were as wide as plates as I trembled and backed away.
He continued. "I am known as Myotismon."
The LEGENDARY Myotismon? He was fabled as only a legend by the residents of all digital towns and villages I had stayed in on my quest. His name, which was intended to be translated into "bat monster", had become to be interpreted into "vampire demon monster." He was, according to legend, said to come in the dead of night and capture innocent digital beings where they lay unprotected… sometimes only for blood, but it was mainly to swipe them and make them his henchmen until death do they part— THEIR death, for Myotismon is a vampire, and you cannot kill the undead.
Before I could scream for help, the cloaked phantom flew out of his seat at the front, holding a gray sack. He zoomed towards me and pulled the sack over me so I was encased in it. One of the two tied the end up so tightly I couldn't breathe or escape no matter how hard I pawed and clawed. I kicked and screamed until my limbs were scratched and bruised and my throat was scratchy and sore. My eyes stung with tears. The air was so hot I felt that I was going to suffocate.
I had no clue of where I was, but suddenly I breathed with relief as the sack got untied. Before I had the chance to escape, another cloth was smashed against my face. It stung my eyes and tasted like vomit, but it left a pleasant tingle on the inside of my nose.
My God… I've been drugged!
My eyelids closed as I fell into darkness…
I woke up hours later, and I was a henchman to HIM. It was the first night of the rest of my life.
I awake in the present, the same surroundings of my quarters of Nightmare Castle. The room has always been a melancholy place, but better than a dungeon cell. I imagine how lucky I am having an entire room all to myself when the others are squished together in their uncomfortable dungeon cells… and then I remember how lonely I am with no others to share my company with. It was as small as a prison cell and even felt like it, what with the straw mattress on the floors made of stone. The walls and ceiling were also made of stone… like my master's heart.
Everything reminds me of my master.
I see his face as I stare into the fire. Why is he deceiving me and so many others? He's so handsome, but he seems too much of a bastard for anyone to truly love. He has fooled all his henchmen. And me especially. Back then I was a naïve little rookie, but now that I am older and wiser, I know more.
So foolish I was…
The window on the side of my room's wall is my only outlet to the outside world. IT is too small for me to squeeze through, but even if it was wide enough, I wouldn't be able to due to the bars placed across it. It is like I am an inmate of a prison cell. It lets in everyting, from a small beam of sunlight that reflects off the dust that floats around in my room, left behind from the ashes of the fires I light if the night is too cold… the dreary rain, so cold when the storms come and won't leave me alone… the freezing wind that is so empty, like my life…
On one side, there is a wooden door that is locked from the outside so I cannot get through. It can only be opened by another henchman. It is covered by many a scratch, some deeper than others, from when I desperately attempted to leave.
Nothing is inside the room except the candle, the bed, and the dishes. The candle is yellowed and melted into a shapeless pile of wax with a black wick sticking out. It is placed on the window, in front of the middle bar. My mattress of straw is my bed, and it is woven together poorly but can at least keep me off of the dirt-ridden floor. On the coldest nights, I sleep with a thin sheet wrapped around me tightly. The dishes are a tarnished silver pitcher filled with water and a plate from when my sustenance was merely stale bread and water.
Finally, there is the fireplace. It is an arch-shaped hole in the wall with some kindling on the bottom. As my only source of warmth, it gives me comfort in this hell. But it is empty comfort. My body is cozy and warmed-up, but my soul feels vacant and unloved.
It is better than those dungeon cells, I tell myself. At least those other prisoners can share their misery. I am alone and lonely, so very lonely.
Day turned to night hours ago. I was confined to this place after an intense work day… not one soul cares.
It's not like they would want to, anyway.
Something overwhelms my mind so much, I cannot sleep. It was not what I just stated, either. I merely cry myself to sleep when I think of that.
Today I was whipped.
It hurts like hell.
I wince every time I move a muscle.
I wish this could end.
Damn it, I wish this could end.
As one of Myotismon's more "respected" and "honored" servants, I was asked to carry out his plot for digital-world domination. The activity do jour was to survey the lesser henchmen and seeing how well they trained, how many died, and so forth. I did an adequate job, though I was ridiculed several times. He called me to his study, where so few are permitted to enter. The narrow walls are lined with antique cases filled with books, all very old and bound together with leather covers. There is a very musty smell inside from the fact that all these literary works have been here for hundreds of years. At the end is a slightly larger niche of the room, occupied by three ancient leather chairs facing the fireplace, as well as an ebony desk covered with neatly-stacked parchment and an open book and a candelabra for light.
I saw Myotismon. He was seated in one of the chairs, musingly staring into the fire and sipping a glass of red wine, which he said was nearly as good as blood. As I laid eyes on him, I felt a vague sensation in my chest.
"Master?" I asked. I knew better than to not use the title of "master" or "lord" while addressing him.
He stood up, put the glass on a nearby table, and turned towards me. His face was expressionless, almost like that of a pale, masked statue.
"Tell me how they were," he demanded.
There was something about him— he was so handsome, so.. nearly perfect, in fact— that rendered me speechless. My heart began to pound like a hammer… not from fear, I realize. It might be love. Why would I love HIM, when he has not shown me any affection at all—
"Gatomon," he addressed me. I knew he wanted me to tell him, but I couldn't… so choked up and afraid… so lovestruck. The vampire's blue eyes narrowed. "Have you done anything?"
Still I said nothing, which I thought was out of fear. My vision grew blurry and warped, like this was all a nightmare. With fearful eyes, I glanced up at Myotismon, and saw he was seething mad.
"those eyes…" he fumed. "I see them again, those blue abominations. I have told you to NEVER stare at me like that! I will have to teach you a lesson for that." He lifted his right hand, which emitted a brilliant crimson glow. I knew what was coming. Too terrified to run, to petrified to escape… I could not hide either. There was no escape from Myotismon.
"CRIMSON LIGHTNING!" His voice rang out and echoed through the hall. The whip cracked in the air, then smacked me across the back. It burned white-hot as it dug into my skin
It burns so bad
I let out a scream and dug my claws into the stone floors, leaving deep white scratches in the places where I tried to do so.
Another whip. It burned worse against my swollen wounds. Its pain was horribly excrutiating on where it had landed before, so much worse. A scream erupted from my throat a second time.
I felt something warm and wet run down my back and through my fur. Blood. The wounds had been opened.
Two more whips smacked my backside, harder and worse than ever. I felt my flesh getting torn apart with each smack, a new river of blood meandering through my white fur, staining it scarlet, until it gathered as a dark red puddle of life under my feet.
"Gatomon, have you learned to obey my orders?" questioned the vampire through clenched teeth.
I begin to cry from the intense pain. I was so full of searing pain surging up and down my back, I could barely breathe. I collapsed into the puddle of dark crimson below my feet, soaking in my own bood, the salty tears flowing into the blood… I could not move.
"Yes…" I whispered, closing my eyes.
I saw Myotismon before me, whipping me with his Crimson Lightning and unleashing his swarm of bats on me for no reason…
"Your face…" I said to myself, clenching my eyes together. "You won't leave me!"
Whipped for my eyes. Poorly bandaged by that incompetent SkullMeramon in the infirmary. Life for me is so difficult… I can still feel blood staining the white gauze.
There are scars that cover my back and sides, but the white fur is too thick to feel them through. If you pet me, you'd never know of my past. All were received by me for my eyes. Why eyes, you ask? They are reasons I do not know of. My master loathes them and refuses to tell me why. I refuse to ask. I desire to learn more about him, no matter what it takes.
I look out the window and see the full moon in the sky far above… overlooking nothing but the dark mountain range where Nightmare Castle is built atop. I know there is more of Server out there than this… that was where I had wandered for moons. I'll give anything to see it once again. To be free from the horrible clutches of Myotismon…
But I desire to be here. Why do I cry? Tears are escaping my welled-up eyes as a lump swells in my throat. Do I miss my old home of the outside, a nomadic life I experienced as I traveled from place to place?
He hates me… all I wanted is for him to respect me… but he whips me half to death for these eyes… I would just rip out these damn things and hurl them into the fire just to have him not whip me anymore. No… not just not whip me… care for me, LOVE me! I wasn't weeping out of physical pain, I now realize. It was from heartbreak, and finding out that Myotismon has never loved me. He has no heart, it seems. All he has are his castle and his power… despite all those henchmen and his eternal youth, I know he can get incredibly lonely… maybe he tried to love at one point, but no one has loved him in return.
I wish I was there when he still felt love.
If he felt it.
I love Myotismon. I wish he loves me.
I need him, like light needs its darkness, like yin needs its yang, like day needs its night…
I know he will never love me! The pain is overwhelming, externally and internally, everything aching from the torture I need to endure always…
I finally manage to close my eyes, but tears fall from my eyes as I cry myself to sleep. I begin to fantasize… this time, I long to have Myo here, wiping the tears off my face with his velvety cape that he seems to have treasured dearly, stroking my back— I wish it had no scars on it, so smooth this time, no pain at all— he strokes me gently, and I feel warmth.
Empty warmth. So vacuous. Unreal, except in my fantasy.
He does not seem so frightening anymore… I wish he were like this in real life. The tears fall like warm, salty raindrops… like outside, only they are freezing like my master's hardened heart.
The rain blows in through the window with a huge gust of wind. I curl up tightly and imagine him again, his time he wraps me in his cape and holds me close to his chest… he'll never let go… he will protect me from all I am afraid of.
I can imagine how his body feels underneath the suit… very well-muscled… mainly his chest and arms… the thought is intriguing. What is he truly like underneath the blue suit and black cape? And the mask… I imagine no deformations at all, just pale, unblemished skin and a perfectly-chiseled face. Maybe the mask is there to set off his blue eyes. I love his eyes so much… I want to look into them forever, but he'd just whip me before three seconds were up.
I drift off into slumber, shivering as the rain sprinkles onto the fire, letting the flames hiss peacefully.
"Look at you!" taunted Demidevimon in my memory of the day. "Suck-up! Gatomon is a brown noser!"
I glared at him, my attempt at ignoring his childish banter failing. "Look who's talking!" I retorted. "Ass-kisser," I muttered.
"You suck up more than he does," added an immature little Floramon. All of the rookies who worked for Myotismon in Nightmare Castle— the ones who were healthy and weren't locked up in the dungeons— were grouped in one large clique. Even the smaller champions and an ultimate named Pumpkinmon were welcomed in with open arms, but I was not. They were mainly inclined towards making Demidevimon's life a living hell, but when that little frickin rat announced he wanted me dead, they immediately teamed up with him. When they succeeded in making me cry, they'd stab him in the back. I wanted Demdevimon as dead as the next henchmon, but they secluded me.
"Well you suck!" I shot back, then ran away.
The flashback has ended.
It is a new day after the previous rainy night when I realized I loved my master. I have been assigned yet another duty which I can perform easily: guard the boundaries of the territory. Ever since I joined and even before that, Myotismon's domain— Nightmare Domain, as I call it, for it originated in Nightmare Castle— has rapidly expanded every night. It stretches over half of Server, the other portion consisting of a vast expanse of useless desert that belongs to a crazed orange monkey. (Personally, I wouldn't want that desert after he's been in it.)
I am outside, coming into contact with this world for the first time in years, it seems. This world is so different now… the trees are now withered and gray, their leaves black and wilting downwards, hanging from their branches like bats. There are a few patches of withering grass, the same shade as the trees. The soil on the ground is now dust, packed tightly. Everything, including the nearby river and the sky, has taken on the same gray tint.
This is not the Server I know. This is Myotismon's Server, his domain.
I hate it.
I loathe it so much, I'd spit on the ground. I'd spit on it. Letting rage come over me, I take aim and spit on the dust. It feels good.
Now I feel regret for doing so… but I have no idea why… I was disrespecting Server, not Myotismon. I feel so confused…
This is about Myotismon, isn't it, said the voice in my head. He doesn't love you. You even said, he's too much of a bastard to be loved by anyone. Especially not a servant who is whipped for her eyes—
The whips. I had forgotten about them. That trigger word focuses my mind on the searing pain from every wound that had been given to me last night. I feel burning that gets to my eyes and distorts my vision… I need something cool… anything.
I stumble into the nearby forest, where I know there is a river. I see it as a shallow stream now… full of cold, clear water! My santuary, my healing! I run to the stream and fall into it. It is shallow enough so I can breathe, but deep enough for me to bathe in it. It stings slightly, then it is so soothing… so cool… so refreshing.
My eyes close. I hear the river flowing like my life. Then a booming noise mixes in with the flowing. I feel the water becoming turbulent as it gets closer and louder with each bang. My heart rises in my throat and beats like crazy as my stomach drops. My eyes snap open and…
I see it towering above me. I know it came to defend its own territory. It is a Mammothmon, looming over me with its silver armor and two ivory tusks that are pointed upwards and have sharp, pointy ends. He is ready to gore me.
The mastodon spots me and begins to stomp in my direction, pointing its spear-like tusks directly at me. I scream, "HELP ME!" then struggle to stand up in the water, but my limbs ache so much and shake violently as I raise myself up. It is like I weigh too much for my legs to support me anymore.
It blows a gale of frost breath into the river, which begins to freeze over. I frantically stand up and clambor out of the river right before I feel a raw sensation in the lower paw that could pass for my right foot. I attempt to maneuver, but it won't budge. Tugging at my right leg, I look down and see my entire right paw stuck in the sheet of ice, twisted into a deformed position and now red-raw through the fur. It hurts so much from the cold.
WHACK! Mammothmon whacks me across the back with his hevy trunk, knocking me top half onto the bank. I feel myself getting squished internally as my backbone gets crushed against my stomach and my foot nearly gets pulled out of its socket, getting number and number as the seconds pass—
I feel my breath returning, me gasping for breath. My heart is pounding in my throat, so rapidly it doesn't sound like beating anymore.
"HELP! SOMEBODY!" I scream as loudly as my voice can muster, desperately wishing for someone, ANYONE, to come.
No one comes.
Mammothmon lifts his front legs high into the air; though covered with coarse fur giving them illusion of more thickness, they are still bulky and weighty enough to crush me, and his tusks will gore me to a pulp. He roars as he is about to crush me with one stump of leg—
I hear something else now. The turning of wheels— familiar to me somehow. Will whatever it is come to rescue me? Will it come help me? I need it NOW! I hear nothing, and the silence gets replaced by "I'M GOING TO DIE! SAVE ME!"
I brace myself for impact. I see the bottoms of the immense feet getting closer and closer. I am frozen and about to get crushed. I scream my final scream—
A flash of blood-red light blinds me for one second. I feel no impact. Am I bleeding? I hear a loud boom and a sound of an elephant's roar. It crushed me… did it?… I see nothing. As my vision becomes clearer, I have to blink. I see Mammothmon lying flat on its side on the ground, a section of its armor completely melted in a slash shape.
"CRIMSON LIGHTNING!" Out of instinct, I brace myself for a severe whipping. I feel my wounds burn again.
It hits Mammothmon. I flinch as I view it roaring, its trunk straight out and legs as rigid as the previously mentioned part of anatomy. There is a horrified expression on its face as it gets burned internally—I see the lightning whip lodged in its back, surrounded by a hole of melted armor, sizzling with static electricity and turning all hide around it bright crimson.
I turn my head around it and see Myotismon. He came! I am incredulous that he actually heard my cries of distress and arrived just in the nick of time to rescue me—
Or maybe Mammothmon had just intruded on his domain and the vampire just wants him out.
I choose the latter.
Myotismon sees me. He spreads his cape so it resembles a pair of bat wings, stretching his slender arms outwards. I know exactly what is coming. It has come hundreds of times before—
"GRISLY WING!" he shouts. A swarm of black digital bats begin to fly in my direction from beneath his velvet cape. They are heading towards me in a huge swarm. I duck as all the winged creatures reach me—and pass over my head, not forgetting to screech in high-pitched squeals.
I ee them now. I know that the bats in Myotismon's infamous Grisly Wing attack have the abilities to devour everything in sight— hence, the legends— regardless of what was in front of them, and that includes several digimon who were dimwitted enough not to fight back or at least get the hell out of the way. They are gathered in clumps, tearing away at the mammoth's leathery hide, letting blood leak to the ground. I see the scarlet puddle grow, with small chunks of hide and data mixing in.
Purely disgusting, I think. I look away, squeezing my closer eye shut.
When I get the courage to peek back, I see the bats flutter away and back towards their master, their abdomens bulging from their "feast." I see a more horrific sight. The armor shell remains and it is covered with rivers of blood and fur. There are also scattered, bloodstained bones on the ground covered with teeth marks and even some indigestible innards. I want to vomit.
Everything then broke up into thousands of particles and vanished in the air. Thank God.
Another thought crosses my mind: Myotismon saved my life. I am in debt.
Before I get the chance to thank him for rescuing me, he turns around and departs for his stagecoach, his cape swirling behind him.
My paw is burning. I look at the river and see that since Mammothmon is reconfiguring, the effect of his Ice Breath attack had worn off. The water is flowing again, and the feeling is returning to my paw. It is still red-raw, but it is free. I attempt to walk on it, and it hurts.
Then before I know it, I see the stagecoach has not moved an inch. I see the door open, and Myotismon steps out and gracefully walks towards me. I see how upright and regally he is walking… quite conformed, if you ask me. He stares down at me, casting me in his large shadow at his full seven feet in height.
"Are you returning, Gatomon?" he asked, slightly annoyed. "I will escort you back if you are in pain."
I am as astounded as I am speechless. Unable to believe what he just offered me, I walked towards the stagecoach, my face burning with pleasure.
The steps are quite far apart and too high for me to step up onto using my legs, but I manage to make it inside. It is slightly dimmer, as it is the first thing I notice. There are two seats facing each other, both covered in black leather. I jump onto one, and it feels very comfortable. Above both seats were dark compartments for something…
My master comes in and sits in the seat across from me, upright and dignified. He nods his head, and I hear Phantomon shout an obscure command as he cracks the reins. I cringe, thinking of all the times Myotismon has whipped me.
The stagecoach jolts to a start and begins to accelertat. I feel it in my stomach—we are flying. The ride slants upwards, and I feel as if I am about to fall off the seat. I can't dig my claws into the seat— he'd possibly kill me.
I slide, then fall off, sail over the narrow stretch of floor, and right as the stagecoach levels off, I land right in HIS lap. I can feel his well-toned legs beneath me. I purr.
"Gatomon, what the devil are you—" he begins, sounding irritated.
"Sorry, master…" I silently apologize. I sadly slink off the seat and leap into the one across. Then I ask, "Why did you save my life?"
"I did not save your life," replies Myotismon. "I was defending my dominion, for you obviously were not able to do so without nearly getting reconfigured. I had to take a precaution so as not to lose my domain."
He likes you, says my mind. He just can't admit it.
I thought I loved him. Now, seven days and six nights later, I loathe him with the passion of a thousand burning suns.
He is gone, attacking the leaders of the other— and significantly lesser— mountain range of Server, which is quite far away from this one. As a matter of fact, it took me moons to travel from that to this by foot alone. It takes half a day to arrive there by flying stagecoach, I am guessing.
Myotismon has scarred me for life. My right paw—the one that could be the equivalent of a human hand—has been whipped so hard it nearly fell off. There was a bandage wrapped around it for a very long and agonizing four days, accompanied with itching and burning, and it was removed recently to reveal a cross-shaped scar on my paw.
A VISIBLE, DARK RED scar. It protrudes above the fur.
The favorite nickname given to me by the other henchmen, and even Demidevimon, was "Scar-Paw." I was no longer my master's little pet, but now a freak.
I don green and yellow striped gloves that conceal the scar. Thanks to Myotismon, I must wear them forever.
To speak of Myotismon, he is back to the way he used to be… worse, as a matter of fact. There is a possibility that he does not truly care for me at all, and that he possibly was speaking the truth, only defending his territory. He deserves to die.
I stare at these abominations on my paws, knowing that I must not remove them. I feel a pleasantly cool breeze blow in from the outside, then fall asleep.
I am standing alone in darkness, minus my gloves. The promanent cicatrix on my paw is illuminated in a right light, now burning me through the bone of my hand. My teeth are clenched as I grab my paw—
The other gets burned as well. I scream as the fur ignites and rapidly burns off the portion of my hand that came into contact. I am confused through all the agony. The heat spreads rapidly through my body. I begin to perspire from the extreme fervor. There is on one who is able to save me from this world of eternal nothingness congested with a black atmosphere, filled with a dense blue fog, which grows thicker and denser with every second that passes. It stings the surface of my eyes.
Then I see HIM. He is making his way through the mist. It is Myotismon, a serious expression on his face, now like stone. He is carrying an elongated whip of Crimson Lightning, sparks flying off of it and burning the air surrounding it.
"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" he laughs, unusually subtly. Whenever he does so, all digimon know it is him. It can send shivers down one's spine; for me, it does more. It causes me to tremor, accompanied by a chill rushing down my back. I try to cover my ears but cannot move my arms.
"Why are you here?" I question.
Myotismon is glaring at me, boring holes through my skull with his icy blue eyes. "Never look at me," he berates as calmly as possible.
I turn my head away and close my eyes.
"Those eyes…" he growls. "NEVER LOOK AT ME WITH THEM!" he shouts so loudly I jump. The ground beneath me begins to quake, and I fall onto my backside to see Myotismon standing above me, towering at his seven feet in height. Only this time he seems ten. "CRIMSON LIGHTNING!" His whip transforms into a four-foot sword, which glows crimson and has an extremely pointed sharp tip that he aims directly at my heart.
I scream, and he plunges it through my chest—
A clap of thunder awakens me. I am drenched with beads of sweat and rain that is pouring in through the window and onto the fire, which has nearly been extinguished. A wave of relief overcomes me as I open my eyes and see my familiar surroundings. My heart is still beating like a jackhammer.
I remove my glove and see my scar, still visible on my paw. It is burning slightly, and hurts when I feel it, but I am grateful that the dream did not repeat itself in reality.
A lump forms in my stomach, for I feel that there is something in disarray. Something has gone horribly wrong. I am puzzled as to what it is, though.
Myotismon, suggests my mind.
It cannot be. I know he is coming, or has arrived to condemn me to death. I am in peril.
Or he is the one in peril, knocking on Death's door.
A rapping on my wooden door and the sound of it unlocking interrupts my thoughs. I brace myself to have history repeat itself, to see my master holding shackles or a chain, about to drag me to my execution.
My expectations for the worst were not met, for the one who enters is Phantomon, followed by several other Bakemon. The ones whose faces were visible appeared alarmed beyond their wits.
Phantomon tells me in his wavery voice, which sounded even shakier at the moment, "Gatomon, you need to know this. Master Myotismon— he is in danger!"
"WHAT!" I scream without realizing it. My eyes are as wide as dinner plates, or that is what it seems. "What happened?"
"He had successfully taken leadership of yet another region, but as an attempt to kill him afterwards, one of the Golumon named for a golum, a mythical creature that consists of mud hurled a boulder at his stagecoach and the Devidramon, which flew away, leaving our master alone… he attempted to defend himself, but a large, sharp rock managed to cut him deeply, and then a large portion of the rock wall that guarded the city fell on him," replies the spectre. "He is within an inch of death…"
I feel the knot in my stomach tighten. Why do I feel that way? For God's sake, it's a WALL. Good riddance, if you ask me, if he dies.
Gatomon, you love him. You do. Only you deny it because even you don't want YOU to know. Your mind deceives you, declaring one thing while your heart insists on another. Look into your heart and listen to what it is saying. Your mind's denial can never overpower your heart's true thoughts.
I stare out the window. Somewhere out there, Myotismon is close to death, helpless and alone.
Though I despise his actions… I love him.
I don't want him to die.
For the love of God, PLEASE don't die…
Lightning flashes in the sky, and thunder booms in my ears right after the sky is illuminated. Without even pondering the decision I chose to make, my limbs follow my heart and fall onto the floor so I am now on all fours. Before Phantomon has a chance to ask me why I am doing this, I run through the gaping doorway to my room and down the stone hall, heading to my destiny. My legs ache with each step I take as time drags on, and my breath cannot fill me.
I must keep going.
He needs me.
I NEED HIM.
My legs begin to tingle, then radiate in a blinding white glow. It spreads through my body, which experiences the exact same sensation.
I command without thinking, "Gatomon, digivolve to…" It takes me another second to realize that I am not just getting a second wind, I AM DIGIVOLVING. I cease running and leap into the air, where I feel every part of my body elongating like elastic, not feeling any sensation except a speactacular warmth and flow of power. I feel my torso stretching and molding itself into something new, and five growths protrude from the stubby ends of my arms. I feel six feet tall. My body changes from a feline's to a woman's, complete with new curves. I feel my fur disappearing, revealing rosy human flesh. Most of me is clad in a tight white bodysuit that clings to every curve and hollow and feels like there is nothing there, and it is complete with a golden breastplate, a pink boa, and brown belts. The only portion of me that it does not cover is my back, and I feel why. I feel six pinpricks where the skin is exposed, and feel something feathery protrude— wings! Lovely white angel wings! I have WINGS!
Finally, a silver helmet is placed over my face, but I am able to see through it because of my new angelic eyes.
I shout out my name.
It is a beautiful name. I feel just as lovely as it is.
I spread my wings and escape through the nearest open window, soaring through the downpoar and rest of the thunderstorm towards my master. The rain is soaking my skin and causing my long mane of blonde hair cling to my back and the scars on it. My wings are growing quite weighty and I am exhausted, but I must keep going. I am flying faster than I have ever seen any digital being go. I keep my eyes open as I search for any evidence of a collapsed wall near a mountain range.
I see it after what seems like hours: a mountain range with a forest near it, not touched by the cloak of Myotismon's darkness that tints everything and anything gray and dying. A river snakes between two mountains.
By my instinct, I feel him. I know he is there. I swoop downwards and head towards the outside of a city of stone, dotted with crude rock sandstone houses— one that has a stone wall winding through it like a snake. I see the broken portion— it creates a hole in the wall and places a pile of rubble next to it. He is there.
I land on the ground next to the pile of stones and frantically search for any evidence of him.
"Myotismon! Myotismon! Can you hear me?" I call out, pausing for a reply. I hear nothing but the downpour falling harder than ever. "Please answer me!" I hear nothing.
I feel like I have no other choice. I grab hold of the nearest stone I saw and reach around it, pulling it away. It is incredibly heavy, and I feel as if it won't budge, but I try as hard as I physically can and pull it away a few feet before an entire side collapses, creating a rock-slide.
I see him now, or to be more precise, I see his cape lying limp on one rock and disappearing between two boulders… its edges are frayed and it is soaked, muddy… and bloodstained. My heart pounds quickly as a cold wave overcomes me. What if he died?
I tug on the cape, and I feel it is attached to a place under a small pile of rocks. I scramble to the top and begin to hurl the stones as far away as possible until I see his gloveless hand sticking out… similar to the cape. I give the most massive rock a single push, the hardest I can, and it rolls down the pile I made and cracks down the center. It was jagged on the sides, with a large pointy end protruding from one, stained with blood.
I see him, rendered unconscious. He is a sight to be seen, a vey heartwrenching one that provokes me to cry. I refuse to hold it back. His uniform and cape are torn, dirty, and bloodstained, especially in the center of his top, which appears to be dyed dark crimson. The areas of exposed skin are no longer perfect and flawless, rather I can see deep gashes that leak rivers of blood that won't seem to cease their flowing. Several lesser ones are on his arms and legs, and one is on his forehead above his left eye.
I pick him up under the chest and drag him out, astounded at how light he is. I lay him down by a liberally-sized pond full of rain water near the forest, far away from the city where there was a risk of approaching rock digimon. I stroke his blood-soaked face, and he opens his blue eyes. My heart skips a beat as a wave of relief washes over me.
"Myo…" I breathe. "Don't move."
"Who are you?" he asks deliriously. He does not know that I am Gatomon. "An angel?"
"Yes," I reply, not truly having the heart to tell him that I am Gatomon's ultimate stage. I gently press his arms against the ground. "Hold still," I dictate. "I'll be right back."
I frantically rush into the forest, where I search for clusters of healing leaves. They are quite scarce in the area I have chosen. I also need water urgently! The river, a puddle, ANYTHING! I search and gather as many medicinal leaves as possible. Then I rush back to where my master is lying on the ground.
I see the pond full of rainwater next to me and search for something that could pass for a makeshift bandage… I look down and see my full white bodysuit. Sacrificing my likeness as a decent angel for one that could be considered a slut, I rip away a sleeve… part of my leg… near my breasts and part of my stomach… two smaller ones on my hips… that might be enough. It is growing colder with more skin exposed, but I have to do it for Myotismon.
I soak the cloth in water and place one piece on his face where the wound is. He winces, but says nothing. Another wipes off the remainder of the crimson agony on his face.
He says nothing. The crimson stain on his chest spreads, so I feel as if I have no choice.
"I need to remove your top," I tell him. "I think there is a wound on your chest…"
"It hurts so…" he moans. "Please heal it…"
I lay my hands at the top of his shirt. I remove the bat brooch and the cape, folding it and laying his head on it. Reluctant and nervous at first, I finally gather the courage to unbutton his top, one section at a time.
Everything is now unbuttoned. I take the two sections and tug at them, pulling his top over his arms and the gloves slide off with them. I place them off to the side along with his boots. I shakily undo his belts so only his pants remain. I tie my "bandages" around the wounds on his legs, and then his arms, saving the largest portion for his back. The puddle of blood on his chest is expanding, with rivers trickling down his sides— I notice he is so much thinner than the top gave the illusion of— and know that there is a nasty wound there. I begin to weep as I wipe his life away to reveal the deepest and most hideous wound I have ever seen in my life, still leaking rivers of blood. It spans his torso diagonally, going right to left from bottom to top, nearly its entire length, extending from slightly below his navel up to his chest…
He is going to die… he can't ever heal with a wound that deep!
I see Myotismon still in pain. He starts to wince as the raindrops hit the wound. I want to find a way to heal it… I used up all the leaves, and my bodysuit cannot suffer any more damage lest it come clean off.
"Don't leave me…" he tells me, lifting his hand and brushing it against the side of my cheek. "I am seeing nothing but darkness… my life is ending…" He closes his eyes and drops his hand, lying limp on the ground.
"YOU CAN'T GO!" I shout. "Myotismon, you CAN'T go!" I don't want him to leave without me letting him know how much I love him! I have been suppressing these damn tears for so lon… I remove my silver helmet and lay my head on my master's bare stomach, where the wound is deepest and widest. Then I let it out—crying, letting loose a sea of hot burning tears that sting my face and flow right into the aperture.
I whisper three words I thought I would never admit to myself ever, interrupted by sobbing.
"I love him… and now he will leave me forever…" I slowly sit up to get one final look at him before he leaves the digital world forever, without a single trace.
I see him still lying motionless on the ground, only the lesser wounds were healing without a trace, and the gash on his torso was rapidly repairing itself until there was no evidence of it ever being there, not even a scar.
He stirs. He takes my shoulders and brings me closer to him, where he sits up and presses his body against mine. He feels warm now… and I don't ever want to go this time. He wraps his arms around me, and suddenly our lips meet. I ascend into a world of pleasure, where it is just him and me locking lips, arms wrapped around each other…
Sadly, it ends and he draws himself away. He appears exhausted, but not in pain. Every last lesion has vanished without a trace, down to the last scratch.
"I am grateful for you saving my life when it was hanging by a thread," he acknowledges me. I blush with pleasure as he falls asleep in my arms. Angel tears have profound healing powers…
He saved my life once out of selfishness, yet I just returned the favor through the purity of my heart.
I flew the vampire back to the Nightmare Castle that night. He had not known that I was Gatomon. The next morning, it had been like he had not been rescued at all.
Now that five years have paseed, he is gone forever, it seems. And I never uttered a word to him, for certain circumstances have intruded in the way. Every time I tried to, I was either speechless or he would not let me speak. After six months, the entire incident was erased from my memory, with no traces of having a recollection of digivolving. I had none for the longest time. It was not until after Malo Myotismon was defeated that I remembered.
It is too late.
Or so I think.
The digi-destined have just entered the digital world, conversing. I see what I need dangling from Matt's belt. I quickly swipe it off before he notices, then scamper off into my solitude. We are on Server, near where the exact location was where I first encountered Myotismon, where he took me into his world— his nightmare domain. After the digital world repaired itself after nearly losing everything it held dear, I realize that it is also where he was last defeated. Maybe his presence still lingers here.
I enter the woods without hesitance. The gnarled limbs of the trees holding their clusters of blackened leaves hang above me, casting grotesque shadows on the ground underneath the light of the full moon.
I search for even a subtle hint that Myotismon has returned for the fourth time. The moon taking on a blood-red tint… a bat fluttering across the sky… I think I see one, but it turns out to be a frickin leaf. I need something, ANYTHING!
"Gatomon!" shoutes the faint voice of my human partner Kari. She has been a dear friend, almost like sister to me, through thick and thin. She is the keeper of light, which seemed to draw me to her as a friend. Now I'd rather be anywhere but where she is. She would surely protest it. "Gatomon!" she calls again. "Where are you? Where did you go?"
"She's in the woods," declares Tentomon in his high-buzzing voice. "I saw her run off into there." Damn you! They'll find me…
I can hear the faraway voices of the other digi-destined and digimon conversing and getting closer.
My common sense is screaming at me. Don't do it… you will regret it!
My mind. It told me to follow my heart. I refuse to listen to it anymore. I must do it.
I cannot pray for a return. The Digi gods simply will not allow this to happen. I cannot wait for a recoming. He will not return to me by merely wishing. I love him so much now— the daring rescue had opened a portal to my heart, revealing my truest and deepest feelings for him. Though he did not show any affection towards me that I am able to remember, I love Myotismon and want to remain with him forever.
Tears begin to well up in my eyes and leak down my cheeks, falling onto the ground below me like raindrops. This is the most crucial choice I have ever had to make.
I don't have much time to decide. My mind is pleading "No!" but my heart is screaming "Yes!"
I need to tell myself… You love Myo, Gatomon. You cherish him so dearly your longing to be with him for all time has overpowered all. You know he cannot come back to you… your only choices are to wish and wish for him to return, remaining with the humans and enduring being miserable for the remnant of your life, or to go to him. It means leaving everything in the worlds you reside in behind, all for your love. Confess all.
My throat feels choked up and hot tears are stinging my eyes. I know exactly what the choice is to make. Blinking away my tears, I produce the object I had stolen from Matt: a leather case. I open the leather case and expose what I need: a pocketknife with a long, sharp, silver blade. I run my paw over it, and it cuts through one of my claws.
You love him, I assure myself. You are coming to him.
Shakingly, I point the blade towards my chest.
"I'm coming for you… Myotismon…" I whisper to myself.
Without another word, I slit my limbs all the way downwards, then my stub of neck, and finally, I plunge the dagger into the left side of my chest, dragging it diagonally downwards until I have the exact same wound that the vampire had received. Except this time, I would not digivolve to give myself salvation. It is my choice not to.
I let out a scream for each pierce. Crimson agony pours out of me as my vision grows dim and blurry. I lose feeling everywhere as I collapse to the ground. By the time the digi-destined locate me, it will be too late. I will be broken up and have dissolved without a trace, without getting reconfigured.
My breathing grows stunted, and I am gasping. The pain was unbearable, but now it is ending forever. As I take my final breath, I shout out so loudly that the other digimon and digi-destined can hear me. They will hear me spill out my soul like my blood.
I extend my right paw with the remainder of what little strength I possess, the scarred one, as I reach into the tunnel of darkness I am descending into. My last words are shouted out, echoing everywhere, including my mind and my heart before I am taken away by death.
"I love you, Myotismon!"