Note: This is highly out of character. It was such a crazy idea that swept through my mind, and also Lightning13 was adamant about me writing it. He knew I could make it work, and I thank him for his confidence in me.
Rated M for gore and slight sexual references
"A Killer Reborn"
The dark clouds hanging overhead made the day gloomy and overcast. As the group of Digidestineds approached Nightmare Castle, Tai looked up and held out his hand. The group behind him stopped, putting down their picnic baskets and firewood. A single drop of rain fell on Tai's hand. Once the group felt more raindrops plopping on their heads, they groaned and picked up their belongings, heading into the castle. Although they were a bit put off by the rain, they didn't care. After all, five years had passed since Myotismon's latest demise. It was time to celebrate.
As Gatomon lead the way, many of her memories came flooding back to her. Of course, the first seven remember the tricks and traps of Nightmare Castle, which have long since been dispelled. She led them to the heavy doors where she had first demonstrated her power. She envied those days where she felt invincible compared to the Digidestineds, but quietly suppressed those thoughts. They were of no use to her.
As the others started to set up "camp," Gatomon showed Tai, Ken, and Kari to the only place where, to her knowledge, a fireplace existed: the library. ("Hey, we're gonna have to heat up some of this food," Tai mentioned.) She decided to go search the castle some more, but once she turned her back on the three, Kari asked her to stop.
"Gatomon, where are you going?"
"Just exploring, that's all," Gatomon replied.
"Okay. Don't get lost," Kari joked, and then shifted her attention back to her friends trying to start the fire.
Gatomon continued down the hallway, looking into the rooms and trying to remember if she knew who slept there. Single rooms were given only to those of the highest rank, and she was one of them. She found Pumpkinmon and Gotsumon's room first. In reality, they shared a room, but there was a partition wall in between with a door to each other's rooms. Her heart sank as she recalled what their fate had been, and continued to the next room.
Next, on the opposing side of the corridor were hers and Wizardmon's room, which was similar to her deceased friends. Reminding herself of this made her spirit submerge itself deeper than the Titanic. Quickly wiping away tears, she ran out of the room. DemiDevimon was special enough to truly have his own, small room. The feline peered in, and she was greeted with a cloud of dust lodged in her lungs. She swiftly shut the door, coughing up the dust.
The door located in front of her was one she had always kept a considerable distance from. She had never gone into the room before, nor would she ever consider it. A little Angewomon sat on Gatomon's left shoulder, while a mini-LadyDevimon rested on the right.
The Angewomon said, "You should respect his privacy, even if he's dead."
"Ah, to Hell with privacy. If you want to go in, be my guest." LadyDevimon stated.
"Curiosity could be the end of you, Gatomon."
"Screw you. We follow our own path, don't we?"
Gatomon rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated over her bickering, divided conscience. Her curiosity was compelling her to check it out, but it was just… wrong somehow.
"Think of it this way, kiddo," LadyDevimon whispered, her voice echoing throughout Gatomon's mind. "If he's dead, how can he punish you for going through his stuff? Trust me, the thought will wear away at you for the rest of your life. Unless, of course, you don't mind having Myotismon on your mind for all of etern—"
"Enough," Gatomon interjected aloud. She heard her voice reverberate off of the cold, stony walls and shuddered. The dark conscience did bring up a good point, and Gatomon acted on her impulse. Her paws grasped the icy doorknob and slowly opened the door. A screech emitted from the room and a bat flew just above her head, making her shriek.
The room wasn't very lavish like Gatomon had pictured it to be. The only item in the room that caught her attention was the raised coffin he called a bed. It was also twice the width of the one she remembered on Earth, which made her wonder whether that had anything to do with the different girls he would lead into his room every night or so. They would scream so loud that they would wake her up in the middle of the night. Gatomon often wondered if he ever drained some of them dry because some girls would leave exhausted but smiling, and others would never see the light of the moon again.
She looked around the coffin, trying to find a trapdoor that would lead to a secret dungeon. Instead, she pulled out a large, black book from underneath the bed. Flipping through it, she curiously noted that the handwriting—Myotismon's—and the dates and times made it a daily log for him, a journal. By reading a few pages, she realized that she was peering into the mind of a demented sociopath.
A voice startled the feline Digimon. "Gatomon," Kari yelled, "time to leave!"
She complied with her partner and tried to put the book back, but failed. It called out to her, telling her not to leave it alone. Obediently, she heeded the call and took the black book with her.
More than four hours had passed since she first flipped through the pages, yet Gatomon wasn't even one-third of the way through. The journal seemed to resemble a novel, since it was almost six hundred pages in length, making the entries long and highly detailed. What astonished the feline the most was that the observant, articulate details were from her former master's childhood. Her eyes grew heavy as she marked page 127 of the journal. She hid it under her pillow and fell asleep.
The next morning, Gatomon awoke, refreshed but hungry. She walked out to the kitchen, hopping up on the counter as she watched Kari make eggs and toast for the two of them. She hopped down, turning on the morning news. As Kari set the plate of food down, and the two began to dig in, the top news story came on, which was a murder. Gatomon's ears perked up as the field reporter mentioned that the viewers could see the crime photos coming up.
The picture was of a teenage boy with dark hair and fairly normal clothes, but his complexion was pale and he was cursed with a gaunt figure. His mouth hung open and his eyes were fixated on his bedroom ceiling. He was left there to die with two black eyes, slit wrists and cheeks, and a stab wound through the heart. The boy was Ken Ichijoji. Kari gaped at the television set while Gatomon's eye twitched. Carved into his stomach was the letter 'E'.
"Holy crap!" Kari exclaimed. "Who would do something like that to Ken?"
Gatomon shook her head and tried to think. Ken was very popular, and he never mentioned having problems with anyone. He still had those crazy fan-girls that follow him around. Could one of them have snapped? The thought was unlikely; they love him too much to hurt him. A rival teammate, perhaps? That wasn't a good theory either. He had to have some enemy…
Her mind flickered to one, and for a moment, it worked: Myotismon. After all, he swore vengeance on the Digidestineds before. This was her oddest one yet; he was dead. Though he had been known to cheat Death, she still couldn't make herself believe if it was him or not. He could have done it… he very well could have… but she needed more evidence.
Two days passed, and the serial killer reared its ugly head each morning at breakfast. The killer had tenancies with its victims. It always attacked a Digidestined, the second grouping of them, and they were all close to Kari and Gatomon. And of course, its insignia was a letter carved into the victim's stomach.
The second victim was a young skinny girl known as Yolei Inoue. Her throat had been slit from ear to ear, and her face and arms had burns that were consistent with an oven rack. She had an 'N' carved on her stomach. The third victim was Takeru Takaishi, and his death was the most gruesome. Along with the 'V' cut into him, part of his digestive tract was missing. It was left out of the picture, but the field reported cited that the true cause of death was asphyxiation by his small intestines.
Kari was scared for her life, while Gatomon was saddened, but more or less disgusted. What fiend, no… monster does something as sickening as choking someone with their innards? Gatomon thought. She couldn't fathom even Myotismon being that horrific, but who else was left? He was the only criminal psychotic enough to make sense. It wasn't just because he despised the Digidestineds, but some of his journal entries were… disturbing, to say the least.
"Gatomon," Kari said desperately, "please don't let him get me."
Gatomon turned off the T.V. and replied, "I won't." She hopped up on the back of the couch and continued, "I'll stay up all night. Trust me, he won't harm one little hair on your head." She quickly decided that it had to have been a male. No girl she knew could handle committing such a bloody crime.
Kari hugged her partner and gratefully said, "Thank you." She pushed her breakfast aside, for she couldn't eat anything after seeing T.K.'s mutilated corpse. She dressed, for the first time in her life, all in black. After all, she had to go to Ken's funeral. It would be wrong not to go.
The Kamiya siblings came back from the funeral with tears in their eyes, empty hands that comforted friends and placed white roses and lilies on Ken's grave, and a desolate apartment. Their parents went to the States on a business trip and would return later that night. Kari still begged her brother to stay with her instead of going back to college.
"Onni-chan, please. I'm frightened that he'll come get me too."
Tai sighed and held his little sister. "Fine, but until Mom and Dad come home."
Kari awoke with a start, breathing heavily as she clutched her stomach. She pulled her shirt up and ran her fingers across it, but was relieved to find no cuts. A cramp in her abdomen made her get up and go to the bathroom.
She kept the lights off as she felt her way to the bathroom door. In her bare feet, she stepped in something wet and warm. Kneeling down and staining her pajamas, she felt the liquid between her fingers. She sniffed it and groaned; it was blood. Alarmed, she flipped the light on, covering her mouth to silence her screams. The towel rack, which was tough, but had dull endings, was shoved down her brother's throat.
Her stomach flopped as she threw up in the toilet about a foot from her brother's corpse. How could this have happened? Agumon could have saved him, right? Sadly, he was nowhere to be found. The killer had finally hit home.
A scream snapped her back to reality. It was high, but not like Gatomon's. The only other option was her mother. She wiped the vomit away, along with her tears, and crept to the door. The only noise greeting her was silence, and it was uncomfortable.
She had to save the only family she figured was left: Gatomon. Running to her room, she threw the desk drawer open to get her digivice; it was needed to save Gatomon, who was sitting on top of the desk. Relieved, she reached her hand in, sifting through papers and schoolwork for it.
Out of nowhere, the drawer slammed shut on her hand, making her cry out in pain. She thought it was the killer until she saw a gloved paw on the drawer's façade. And there was something else wrong with Gatomon's paw: her claws were bloody.
The petrified teenager tried to run away from her murderous partner, but Gatomon clawed into Kari's calves, making her fall to the ground. She hastily recuperated, crawling towards the wall. Her back touched the wall as her feline friend closed in.
"Gatomon, why are you doing this? Why kill your friends? We care about you."
Gatomon's red eyes narrowed as she dug her claws into Kari's chest. The impact nearly knocked Kari out as she leaned forward onto Gatomon's arm. Gatomon pulled her arm back, and in her paw was the still-beating heart of her dying partner. Kari's lifeless body fell to the ground as Gatomon set the heart aside. She pushed Kari over so that her stomach faced the cat. Carefully, she clawed three lines into Kari's stomach that resembled a 'Y'.
Looking back to admire her work, she licked the blood off of one of her claws. "Lord Myotismon was right. Human blood does taste better with a dash of fear in it." She let out a sinister chuckle and headed for the apartment door. Her work was not finished. She had seven more Digidestineds to kill, and all in one night. No job was ever easy for her, but that was how she intended it to be.
I am surprised to see myself in such a state. I swore to myself that I would not kill another, but I did. With my heart full of anguish, I deleted its body, wishing that my own guilt could be deleted just as well.
The odd thing about this time was that I had no motive. He didn't hurt me or anyone I loved. No, the latter is irrelevant. I lost everyone that I had ever cared about, yet I am digressing. I had no reason to kill, merely the impulse to kill. I felt relieved and battered with guilt once he was gone.
As I write this, my guilt seems to leak into the paper, which absorbs it, and drifts it away from my heart until only the satisfaction remains. I had just committed an unspeakable, horrendous crime, and I am only twelve years old. When I had first killed, I would have been fearful for my life. But now, a new darkness has engulfed my heart; it is one that I now control. No longer am I the timid boy I once was, for now I have power.
I have found a new quarry to hunt: humans. The children, always so loving, cheerful, and carefree. They play with each other and laugh gleefully. Not one of those children knows how I feel. Not one of them has experienced the true pain and torture I have endured.
I will make them suffer.
I will exterminate them.
My envy is the power that will destroy them all.
The commander of darkness
The very last passage in Myotismon's journal brought up a good point. The humans all had good childhoods, and yet she and him had to suffer considerably during theirs. That last passage put things into perspective for her so much that her killer side came out, her conscience slipping into submission. She realized that she was somewhat of a tame version of him. Not anymore.