The name's Magna, and I wrote this story ... I think. I just busted it out on my Microsoft Word. It's not long, so just read it. I think it's pretty good. You might disagree, but that's okay. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Digimon.




The sun was shining through the small clouds. It was a beautiful spring day, and Takumi realized that he was flying. The air rushed against his face; the breeze felt wonderful. Opening his eyes in excitement, he watched the town far below him, and he felt free . . . finally free at last. He laughed as the wind seemed to carry him high above the earth. Looking up at the clouds again, it seemed as though the clouds were opening up, to reveal the sun. But it wasn't light that beamed down to the Earth. A dark mist seemed to come from the sun and separate the world in two . . . but Takumi wasn't on either of them. He was just floating in darkness. Darkness . . . and then he woke up.

It had been a dream . . . a dream . . . he wasn't flying . . .

Takumi Hito glanced at his alarm clock. 7:14.

"Aw, I overslept again," he said, tiredly emerging from his bed.

The truth was, he hadn't overslept at all - if it were up to him he would be in bed for the next four hours, but he was not his own master. He had to obey the mindless laws of school.

In fact, he had been up late the previous night, well into the early hours of the morning, studying for the math test that he had to take today. He had spent the longest time looking through his notes, until he was sure that he understood it. But he didn't. Of course, he couldn't go ask his mother . . . she was no good at math, and far too busy anyway.

Takumi's father had died many years ago, when he was about three years old. His father had been an exceptionally bright man who later became a doctor. Takumi could only remember him slightly, but the thirteen year-old thought about him all the time, he was thinking about him now as he put on his clothes for school, an orange t-shirt and some jeans. These jeans had holes on both knees, which grew bigger each time he put them on.

Kids at school will think I'm dirt poor, can't even buy a decent pair of jeans, he thought as he slipped into them. Then he stared off and reflected on the validity of this concern.

He was able to put that off his mind as he went into the bathroom where he washed his face and then took a comb from one of the drawers and tried his best to comb his hair. After gathering all of his school materials and carefully checking that he had the notebook that contained his test information, he headed down the stairs, where his mother was watching television in the kitchen.

"Oh, that woman!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Look at the skimpy outfit she's wearing! I don't need this, I'm trying to watch the weather! Agh! You're in front of the map!"

Takumi watched his mother as she bit into a doughnut.

"I'm going to school, mom," Takumi said, exiting the kitchen.

Math class was around noontime, and if he wanted to pass the test he would have to make the best of every precious minute. Sixty seconds could mean the difference between understanding a key concept, passing by the skin of his teeth, and failing miserably. The bus, however, was crowded and noisy and did not make a good study hall. He would be forced to spend lunch studying. That was fine with him, he didn't sit with anyone he liked anyway and he would rather go hungry than fail.

As he frantically flipped through the pages of his math textbook, it seemed like someone had sped up time. Soon there was only fifteen minutes before the bell rang, and he hardly understood the basics of the first lesson. He struggled, trying to drown out the thoughts of impending academical doom while pounding the information in his head.

It was no use. The bell rang. Takumi slowly picked up his book, studied page 387 one last time, and closed it.

When the class came, he was nervous and tried to concentrate. Even the pretty girl in front of him would not stop him from keeping focused. But the confidence that seemed to come from every other student in the class made him feel weak, and before he knew it the test was being passed out and he was forced to put his book away.

He read through the test paper, learning soon enough that he didn't understand any of it. Even managing to get half of them right would be an uphill battle. When the bell rang, the students passed in their tests and Takumi had guessed on all of them.

Finding his locker, he was not amused to find a crowd of chattering girls directly in front of it.

Get out of my way and babble somewhere else, Takumi wanted to say to them, but he would never be that assertive. So he simply stood there awkwardly and waited for them to leave.

When he finally got a chance to open his locker, the bell rang for the next class, just as Mr. Mes, the grumpy janitor, arrived. When Mes accused him of skipping class, Takumi told him he had just been late, but wasn't skipping. The suspicious janitor cast Takumi a wary look and mumbled something about giving him detention the next time.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he arrived late for gym class, much to the amusement of the students there. The gym teacher, Mr. Akimoto, had a talk with him about being late for class.

Takumi didn't listen to any of it, though. He had received that lecture many times before. Instead, he thought about his father. What would he do if he knew his son had been late for class and flunked the test?

Takumi looked up at the ceiling as the gym teacher continued his lecture. He expected to see his father, who would look angry at him and say, "My son? . . . An insult . . ." but Takumi didn't see anything.


He looked at the gym teacher. "Did you hear anything I just said? I want you to be on time for class from now on, okay? I hate to do this, but if you don't improve I'm going to have to write home. Got it, Takumi?"

Takumi nodded. He was sorry that he was late for class, but he was more sorry to his father. After Takumi thought much harder about it in the locker room, tears began to roll down his cheek. He didn't care when one of the boys in his class teased him for crying. The boy was an idiot, anyway . . .

He returned home with a pile of homework, which he planned on throwing away when he got home. He was sweating from all the running he had done in gym class as he climbed up the steps to his house. He turned the doorknob and walked inside.

Takumi sighed and went up to his room. His bed had not been made. He stared around the room. It was a mess. Lying there, beside his dresser, was a photo album. Takumi felt tears in his eyes as he picked up the book. It was very heavy, and it contained pictures of when Takumi was younger. Years ago, Mrs. Hito loved to take pictures of the whole family. He scanned a picture of his dad from when Takumi was two. His father was on the couch, smiling, holding a laughing baby high up in the air.

Does the boy in the picture know, thought Takumi, that his father wouldn't be with him very long? And does the man in the picture know, that his son will be a failure?

Takumi collapsed on the bed with the photo album, tears coming out of his eyes. And he must have dozed off in sadness, for when he woke up later, night had fallen.

It took a while for Takumi to realize where he was. He had such a strange dream ... a group of men were surrounding him, it seemed like he was almost unaware of their presence . . . these men talked in muffled voices, and Takumi couldn't catch all of what they said . . . he was half-asleep. A man who seemed like the leader of the group walked toward Takumi. It was at this point that the boy began to feel frightened, he felt paralyzed; no matter how hard he tried to move, he couldn't.

The man who approached Takumi was holding a green formula. Takumi stared with his eyes half-open as the man forced the formula down his throat . . . and that was the last he could remember.

How strange, he thought, with a glance at his alarm clock. It was 9:44.

Even after the disturbing dream, his thoughts still drifted back to his father. He couldn't think straight without coming to his father, so he did what was best when he was down: Takumi decided to take a walk, even though it was nighttime. It didn't matter, although only thirteen, he had walked in the night alone many times before. He also could manage the household without his mother around, for if he didn't, his life would be very difficult. His mother often worked late into the night, and it was common for him to fall asleep at night alone in his house.

He walked along the sidewalk, looking down at his feet, hoping he wouldn't encounter someone on the way, it always annoyed him when someone asked him what he was doing up so late, as if it were any of their business. He continued to walk along, until he heard a sound. Footsteps. Someone else was walking on the street. He looked up. In the distance, he saw a boy jogging. Takumi halted. There was no mistaking it. It was the same stupid idiot who had made fun of him for crying. Out on his nightly jog, so it seemed.

The boy began to make his way past Takumi, who gritted his teeth in hate. The boy didn't seem to notice him because it was so dark.

Suddenly, a strange sensation went through Takumi.

He clenched his fists. This arrogant boy, he thought. This stupid boy laughed at me . . . he doesn't have the same problems . . . he goes about his own life . . . he may never know sadness.

And then Takumi's head seemed to burst. He had a sudden desire to hurt this boy . . . to give pain to the ignorant kid . . . he wanted to kill him. He had wanted to kill someone before many times, but not it was not something he wanted . . . he needed to kill him. It was painful to see him live.

Takumi's fists tightened even harder. It seemed as every muscle in Takumi's body was on fire.

The boy let out a roar of rage. It wasn't a sound that a human would make. It was more like a beast.

His anger exploded, and he could feel his body changing . . . changing . . . his head began to change shape, his fingers morphed into claws - his skin changed color, it was now an orange color. A tail. Takumi began to grow, his back stiffened - where there was once Takumi there was now a horrible beast - a dragon.

This dragon had wings, and a sharp horn on it's head. His head was made up of many spikes, and his teeth were as sharp as knives. His claws were hard as steel, and a tail that could crush bones.

Suddenly, the boy who had jogged past Takumi turned around. His eyes grew wider and wider as he watched the dragon come closer . . .

The beast roared, fire spewing from his scorching throat. He faced the boy, the ignorant, stupid boy and dived at him. The boy covered his face with his hands, but it didn't matter. The dragon dove his claws into the boy's arm, and the child let out a shriek of pain. The monster then held up the boy by his talons and threw him violently to the ground.

The boy gripped his bleeding arm and once again stared at the dragon, mesmerized and paralyzed by fear. The beast crept closer and closer . . . the child on the ground attempted to move, but he couldn't force a muscle. The sharp claw had dove into his bone, his arm had broken. The boy tried to stand up, and grabbed his arm again, using his right arm to protect his face. The beast that had attacked him then lunged at him with his claws and slashed the boy's body. The boy sank to the ground, blood stained onto his clothing.

Takumi felt the grass and clutched it tightly. He opened his eyes and saw the sunlight. Dawn. Takumi then looked around. Where was he? He couldn't remember this place, he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there . . . but it was then that he saw it. The body. Blood had splattered over the sidewalk. Takumi gasped in shock. He then held up his own hands, and saw red stains on it. He looked at the boy in horror, and then at his own hands. He ran home, horrified.

Don't miss the next installment - Chapter 2: Harvesting Darkness

So what do you think? I think it's the best story I've ever wrote. There will be more, if anyone likes it. So tell me. Did you find it a thrilling read, or absolutely dreadful? Just take a minute and send me a review, I love feedback.