Between Alpha and Omega

By, Esmee                     Concept by, Tenshi no Yume

–  –  –

                     First the good news

           It's gonna' feel very nice

           Then the bad news

           You gotta pay a heavy price

           Rip tide, we slid we ride on a deep forbidden sea

           Under we go - so slow

           And you're hanging onto me

           And I say

                     Oh, Oh one more addiction in my world

           Oh one more connection to let go

           Oh floating down the river

           Out of sight forever (From my world)

           It's the only thing I know how to do

                     I reject you

           But I can't follow through

           I'd forget you

           But you'd end up tappin' on my back door

           Somehow I lost myself

           In a tunnel long and black

           Somewhere, at the end, I pretend

           There's a way of turning back

                      Oh, Oh one more addiction in my world

           Oh one more connection to let go

           Oh floating down the river

           Out of sight forever (From my world)

           It's the only thing I know how to do

                     Take a breath

           Let it out

           All the things you frown about are meaningless of course, unless you're doing this for real I guess

           I meant to but

           I don't know what

           Is in the way and could I say

           It's you I bet

           I won't forget

           Maybe I'm not ready yet

                     Oh, Oh one more addiction in my world

           Oh one more connection to let go

           Oh floating down the river

           Out of sight forever (From my world)

           It's the only thing I know how to do

                     'one more addiction'

                     ~Natalie Imbruglia

–  –  –


          I sit in the recesses of the shadows and wait.

          I wait for them to come. Or for the never-ending night to finally take what it was promised.

          But I am fooling myself.

          They will never come, and the night itself rejects me.

          I am a reject from the world of the Dead, as well as that of the Living. So I sit in the shadows; the shadows of my life, the shadows of my mind, the shadows of my soul, and I wait for my Master to give me my orders.

          I suppose it's entirely my own fault really, but that's in the past and as I was once told, "The past is the past. You must live in the present."

          I sit in the blackest of shadows, as if to hide my own bloodstained hands from my sight.

          Mirrors, once one of my favorite objects, now repulse me because of what I perceive in their depth.

I could almost laugh at the child I once was, a pitiful, self-centered child. Now I am a bloodstained weapon wielded by my Masters dark hands. Such a far cry from that child, I could laugh.


          I have heard the stories told around the night-fires, the stories of the new general who leaves a bloody after-path where ever she goes, the new general who is even more powerful than her Master, the new general who is death on dark wings.

          I have heard them all, and they are true.

          I do leave a bloody path behind me.

          I am more powerful than my Master; if it were not for the vow I gave I think I would kill him too.

          I can be death, though I don't like assuming that identity for long.

          So now I wait again, pushing down and away the last of my fragile humanity into the darkest crevice of what is left of my soul. And the next order is simple.


          Kill. He tells me. All of them. Leave none alive.

          So I kill and again I wait.

          What I wait for I'm not sure, why I wait I have even less of an idea.

          But I don't stop waiting.

          I can't.



          When one is young, one believes they are invincible. They believe they are immortal. They believe in forever. They are innocent fools, but fools nonetheless. They think that no matter how bad things get, that it will always get better, and that they will always win out in the end.

          They refuse to believe that they can lose.

          No one in the group had anticipated Myotismon to launch an attack so soon, after the previous battle. And because of that fact they were hard pressed, in other words they were losing. Badly.


          The sunlight was filtering down through the trees in jewel-bright colors. Ruby, emerald, topaz, amethyst, and amber, twisting the light into ropes of bright and vivacious colors. Joyful colors. Victorious colors. A warm breeze tinted with the sent of exotic flowers curled around the small group, lifting hair and tickling faces. A sky the color of a highly polished turquoise arched overhead, promising a warm night.

          Mimi was happy, surprisingly happy. She was with all her friends, they had fought and won a battle with Myotismon, and at the moment anything seemed possible, maybe even getting home. After all, if Taichi had been able to go back, maybe they could find a way too. She missed her Mother and Father, and - though she hated to admit it - even her little brother.

          As she walked, her mind drifted to the previous battle.

          They had all been looking for Sora, and when they had finally found her she told them she couldn't get her crest to glow. Then Myotismon had attacked and Sora had gotten her crest to glow, making Biyomon digivolve into Garudamon. Garudamon had driven Myotismon back and then taken all the children to safety before de-digivolving into Yokomon.

          She couldn't wait for her crest to glow and for Palmon to digivolve to her ultimate form.

          But something had been puzzling her. It wasn't always obvious to people but, Mimi was actually quite a perceptive girl and she had noticed something rather puzzling about the Digimon.

          "Palmon," She began. "I've been thinking-"

          "Oh no!" Taichi interrupted, rolling his eyes with a groan. "Everyone run for cover! Mimi's been thinking again!"

          "Taichi . . . " Sora began her gentle reprimand, but there was a glint of laughter in her eyes.

          "Shut up Taichi." Yamato said at the same time. Everyone looked at him in surprise but he ignored them and said, "Go on Mimi."

          "-That we really don't know all that much about you Digimon, do we?" She continued as if she hadn't been interrupted, a cheerful, oblivious expression pasted on her face. She knew they thought of her as the 'Barbie' girl, the whiny spoiled brat who wanted everything her way, but to be reminded about it like that hurt. Though she was very surprised - and pleased - that Yamato had stood up for her like that. Maybe he doesn't think I'm only a spoiled brat . . .

          "What do you mean?" Asked Palmon, surprised.

          "Well." Mimi said thoughtfully. "We don't know anything about your families, or your customs, or really anything about your society, do we? I mean do you have holidays? Do you have schools? Can Digimon digivolve without humans? Do you-" But whatever else she was about to say was cut off by the roar, "Night Raid!" 


          From that moment the battle had gone from bad to worse. Most of the Digimon were still exhausted from the previous fight and Biyomon - who had digivolved from Yokomon at the beginning of the battle - was down for the count.

          "Dead Scream!" Myotismon roared.

          "We can't keep this up much longer." Sora panted, carrying the semi-conscious Biymon.

          "I know! But what can we do?" Jyou gasped as they dodged another of Myotismon's attacks.

          Mimi was breathing too hard to reply, and then she saw Yamato.

          She was running before anyone else had even realized what was about to happen, before she even realized what she was about to do. The only thing she could thing of was how sad Takeru would be if Yamato got hurt. She slammed into Yamato sending him flying, just as Myotismon's attack ripped through the ground where Yamato had stood.

          The ground where Mimi now stood.

          As the words, "Bloody Stream!" filled the air, the blood-colored electricity tore through Mimi, lifting her body in the air a few meters before leaving it charred and unmoving on the ground.

          "Mimi!" Togemon screamed as she watched the lightening engulf her Chosen.

          "How wonderfully unexpected!" Myotismon chuckled, gliding down to Mimi's still body. "I kill one of the Chosen, and get to keep her body! Just delightful."

          Then, while all the Chosen stood frozen in numbing shock, he grabbed her limp arm and disappeared.


          Where . . . Was the first muzzy thought that drifted through Mimi's waking mind.

          She shook her head to get rid of the last few tendrils of sleep that clung to her then, wincing, she sat up and turned her attention on her surroundings.

          From what she could tell, she seemed to be in a large stone room, there were no windows anywhere that she could see - the only light came from a sputtering torch hanging on otherwise bare walls. She appeared to be sitting on a large stone slab, covered in many nicks and scratches; in several places she could see dark stains. She forced her thoughts away from the many unpleasant possibilities of what they might be her mind was coming up with.  

          "Where am I?" Mimi whispered, listening to her voice echoing away into the dark.

          It was very obvious that she was alone, even her hat was gone.

          Then she remembered. She remembered pushing Yamato out of the way of Myotismon's attack. She remembered Togemon's scream.

          She remembered pain.

          After the pain, she remembered darkness. "What happened? Did I die?" Mimi wondered aloud, using a bare hand to tuck a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. It seemed her gloves were also gone.

          "No, you didn't die." The low chuckle bounced around the semi-dark room. "You were dying, but my powers saved you." 

          She knew that voice; it haunted her sleep. "Myotismon . . ." She hissed, then what he had said registered in her mind, giving her words a slight edge of fear. "What do you mean, your powers saved me? Why would you do that?"

          Myotismon glided out of the shadows, the faint light of the torch lighting-up his disturbingly handsome face. "I meant what I said, my powers did save you, and the reason I did that is quite simple." He smiled revealing his fangs. "I've been watching you children for quite a while and you my dear, you . . . intrigued me."

          "Why?" She asked, anger starting to take the place of fear. How dare he . . .

          He smoothly glided in front of her and stared down at her. "Because we're the same."

          "I'm nothing like you!" Mimi spat.

          "Are you really so sure, child? Do you honestly think those other people care anything about you?" He asked circling her.

          "Of course they do! They're my friends, not that you would know anything about friendship." She retorted, quite angry now. "Leave me alone! I don't want anything to do with you." She yelled, though she didn't really expect him to.

          Surprisingly he did.

          But as he started to retreat into the dark he asked one last question. "Are they?" And disappeared before Mimi could answer.

          "They'll come for me! You'll see!" She yelled into the dark, but the only reply she received was the echoes.


          Mimi sat very still after Myotismon left the room, resisting an overpowering urge to cry or at least whimper. Crying won't solve anything. She scolded herself firmly. My first priority getting out of here, I can cry later. I will get out of here. She resolved that when she got out of there she would have a good, long cry. A healthy one, strong and fast; like a summer rainstorm. The kind that wipes away humidity and leaves freshness behind. Yes, that was what she would do.

          She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting in that room, there was no way to tell what time of day it was, so she got up and went over to the torch hanging on the wall and pulled it down with a grimace. The handle was covered in layers of cobwebs and grime, she didn't really want to touch it with out her gloves but it couldn't be helped; she needed the light.

          Using the torch to light her way, Mimi left the room and started to look for away out. That was the first of what would be many long, lonely steps.


          Mimi was walking down a long hallway, lit sparsely with the same sputtering torches that had lit the room she had woken up in. Hanging here and there, were the rotting remains of blackened tapestry. Dust covered everything. She sighed, she wasn't sure how long she had been here, in this prison of gray stone, but she knew it was a long time.

          At first she had walked until exhaustion claimed her, and she'd fallen asleep. She had repeated that pattern three times.

          During this time she'd had several visits from Myotismon, he seemed to take unadultered pleasure from tormenting her then vanishing, leaving her with cryptic and disturbing thoughts. She had not been attacked, in fact she hadn't found any other living creatures beside herself - Myotismon didn't count.

          She heard a whispery sound behind her, but being used to it now didn't bother to turn around. "Go away."

          "I'm hurt, child." Myotismon mocked. "I thought I would merit a little more of a response than that."

          Having popped up this way many times since she'd left the (relative) safety of the room she had woken up in, it no longer surprised her; in fact it was starting to irritate her.

          "You merit nothing from me." She said with a snort. "I'm tired of your games. If you're going to kill me, then do so already." Stop playing with me. She added silently resentful.

          "Why would I kill you, after I went through all the trouble of saving you?"

          Oh how she wanted to hit that smug face. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because you're a sadistic murderer?"

          "Join me." He asked abruptly.


          "Join me." He repeated. "I could make you powerful." He said softly, staring down at her.

          Mimi stared at him in disbelief. "Are you deaf, or just stupid? When my friends get here-"

          "Ah yes, when your friends get here. You've said that quite a number of times since I . . . acquired you, and I've yet to see one of them. You do know its been a week since I took you, don't you?"

          A week? They must be having some really serious problems to take so long. But still, a week . . . ? She bit the inside of her cheek as the thought scampered through her mind, than scolded herself for thinking such a thing. "So what? They'll come." She said with confidence she didn't feel.

          "But I can't help thinking," Myotismon mused on, ignoring her. "That other girl in your group, Sora I believe? They would have gotten her back within a day, wouldn't they?"

          "They would do the same for any of the others!" She retorted hotly.

          "Then why not you? Why aren't they here?"

          Deep down she had been wondering this too, but she would be damned if she would let him know that. "They'll be here! Just leave me alone!" 

          "As you wish."

          She was alone again, but she didn't continue down the hall. Instead, she sank down onto the floor, pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her knees and cried. Not like a summer rainstorm, quick, violent, and healthy, but like a winter drizzle. Quietly, bitterly, and harmfully lasting.


          Two weeks.

          After that informative little chat with Myotismon, Mimi had been keeping count of the days as best she could, and her rough estimate was somewhere around two weeks, give or take a day or two.

          It was strange really, Myotismon never made a move to prevent her access to anything - she had even found food and water in one of the many rooms - but she was no closer to finding an exit than she had been in the beginning.

          She also still hadn't found another living - or dead - creature during the entire time, only Myotismon and he didn't count.

          What she found hardest to endure was the loneliness. Sometimes the loneliness became so great that she would have talked to anyone, even Myotismon. The only way she kept herself from breaking down completely was by repeating a calming mantra of, 'They are coming. They'll be here.' to herself, but now doubts floated through her mind like storm clouds in a clear sky.

          A sound ahead of her caught her attention; it wasn't the whispery hiss of Myotismon's cloak. It sounded like a strong wind, or water running. Or people talking.

          She raced down the corridor and came to a stop in front of a large door that was partly open. It was an old door, the front was covered in dust, but she could see that once it had been magnificently carved. Pushing it open, she stepped into a small room, bare of the fragments of rotting tapestry that decorated every other hallway and room she had been in so far, and in the center stood a large oval mirror in better condition than anything else she had seen in this place. The mirror's surface was dark.

          She felt a wave of disappointment wash over her, tightening her chest and gut, but something about this mirror drew her, making her ignore - or at least push away - the disappointment. As she stepped up to it, the mirror flared to life. It became a whirlpool of erratic swirling colors and sounds, and then it slowed and finally stopped on a very familiar scene.

          Thirteen shadows were sitting around a campfire, seven were Digimon, and six were children.

          Her friends.

          Mimi uttered an inarticulate cry of relief. They were all right! She had been worrying for sometime whether they had been hurt or something. She was so relieved to see them that she didn't notice at first that they were talking.

          "–Strange with Mimi gone." Sora was saying softly.

          "Yeah, it's so peaceful now that we don't have to listen to her whining all the time." This was Taichi speaking.

           We've never really gotten along, but he doesn't mean that, did he?

          "We've encountered half as much trouble, than when she was with us." Palmon said.

          How can she say that? She can't be saying that, She's my best friend.

          "We don't have to stop every ten minutes, when we're walking any more." Yamato added.

          No, Yamato couldn't be saying that, not Yamato, please no . . .

          Koushiro and Jyou nodded.

          "I'm almost glad she's gone." Jyou was saying.

          I've always thought of him as a friend, always supported him when he asked to take a break. Why?

          "Almost . . . ?" Koushiro questioned, a glint of – Laughter? – in his eyes.

          Please not him too.

          "Now I have to carry the food bag all the time." Jyou explained for Koushiro.

          Feeling something shatter in her chest, Mimi uttered a choked sob, and fled.



          There was nothing but the constant sting of her feet as they hit the ground.

          Run. Get away.

          There was nothing in her but an aching emptiness, so large and sharp she thought it would cut her open and spill out her soul for the world to see.

          Run. Get away. Don't stop.

          There was nothing but the running, the aching, and the silent screaming of her soul.


          She ran back through the corridors unseeing, the words her friends had said filling up her mind, screaming themselves at her over and over.

           . . . don't have to listen to her whining . . .

         No, no, no, no. She chanted in her mind to the rhythm of the blood pounding in her ears as she ran down the corridors. Her shadow circled her in flickering waves of black and yellow light.

          . . . half as much trouble . . .

          She skidded around a corner, slamming into the wall, but it did nothing to slow her forward momentum. Her breath was harsh in her throat. No, no, no, no.

          . . . don't have to stop every ten minutes . . .

          She tripped on the hem of her skirt and fell roughly, scrapping the skin off of her arms and knees. She stumbled to her feet, not caring about the scraps and continued running. No, no, no, no. 

          . . . glad she's gone . . .

          Her every intake of breath hurt now, lungs straining to supply oxygen for tortured muscles. The backs of her calves ached, and the tops of her thighs felt taunt and strained. No, no, no, no.

          . . . glad she's gone . . .

          She couldn't see more than a meter ahead of her and something warm and sticky was sliding down her skin, but she didn't care, she just ran. Letting the emptiness in her spread, she ran. She was running through white noise now. No, no, no, no.

          . . . glad–

          "NO!" She finally screamed aloud, slamming her fist against the rough stonewall causing her knuckles to bleed. She had stopped running only because she had come to a dead end. It wasn't clear whether she was screaming 'no' because of the dead end, or to stop the voices in her head. She leaned her forehead against the wall, sobbing. She felt her knees start to buckle; she let them and slowly crumpled to the floor.

          "I see you found my Mirror." Myotismon voice was calm and measured behind her.

          "Leave. Me. Alone!" She grated out between shuddering breaths.

          "I can help you."

          "Go away."

          "I can make you strong."

          " . . . Strong?"

          "Yes. Strong enough to no longer need friends." His lip curled on the last word.

          Mimi turned her tear stained face towards him. " . . . H- How?"

          Now he crouched down until he was just about level with her. "Join me, and I will make you strong," he said holding out his hand.

          But she still hesitated. "What would I have to do?"

          "Simply give your sincerest vow to serve me."

          In her minds eye she could still see them, still hear their painful words echoing in her ears.

          "Join me, and you will never hurt like this again."

          Emotionally exhausted she didn't think, wouldn't think, beyond the emotional relief he promised, she looked at him and said, "I give you my sincerest vow of loyalty." And she put her bleeding hand on his outstretched palm.

          A silent explosion of light engulfed the two figures on the floor, silhouetting them in a light so bright you almost couldn't see it, and at that moment Mimi Tachikawa ceased to be.

–  –  –

Note: Throughout this story, every chapter will have a song at the beginning. The songs are not meant to reflect the theme of the chapter, but of the story in it's whole. Sometimes I may use a poem or quote. I was listening to 'one more addiction' I thought it really fit the idea of this fic (certain parts of it at least) but you be the judge.

–  –  –