Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ The Demon Chronicles ❯ Session One: Lucemon ( Chapter 1 )

The Demon Chronicles

 

Disclaimer: I am absolutely not making profit off of this fanfic—any infringement is not intended and never will be.

Rating: PG-13 / T

Genre/s: Drama, Action, Adventure, Romance, Tragedy, Horror

Currently Listening To: “Gollum's Song” by Emiliana Torrini. Look it up on YouTube. :D

Description: Everyone has secrets, even the Demon Lords. Told in eight sessions, we learn the Scourge of the Digi-Underworld's pasts, what brought them together, and the viciousness of their great founder.

 

The Demon Chronicles

Session One

.Lucemon.

 

CRACK

 

Bones breaking.

 

Laughing.

 

Laughing.

 

CRACK

 

CRACK

 

CRAAAAACK

 

Red dotting his face, his white wings; white wings now tainted red, red, red.

 

Red dotting the floor - no, not dotting it, red SPLASHING against the floor.

 

“Hahaha...”

 

CRACK

 

CRACK

 

“HAHAHAHA...”

 

CRAAAAAAAAAACK

 

Thud

 

He dropped the axe. Heard it clatter against the tiled floor. Heard that baby drop, and felt his knees buckle, felt them hit the floor as he stared ahead of him with the brightest blue eyes. The brightest, most curious eyes.

 

“Oh... faaaaaah...” he breathed, reaching forward to touch the woman's cheek. She was still. So, so still. “Nee... moooon...”

 

.+.

 

...BEFORE ALL THE WOE...

 

“Oh - fah - nee - mon?”

 

He said it slowly, putting emphasis on every single syllable.

 

Yet, Ophanimon didn't turn toward the blond-haired digimon. She was too wrapped up in her own stuff to talk to him - or, for that matter, look at him. It wasn't that she didn't want to. It was that she was so wrapped up in her paperwork that she hadn't even noticed he was there. To her, his voice seemed distant, as if it was not her friend, but another voice, said in her head to distract her. That happened a lot when she was up to her neck in work and her mind wanted to daydream. Dang daydreams!

 

It wasn't until she felt a cold hand reach up and touch her cheek that she realized the voice was not in her head.

 

She jumped and glanced down, seeing a rookie digimon with blond hair and icy blue markings embedded into his skin. He had a warm smile, his twelve white wings fluttering around him. Feathers, as soft and pure as freshly fallen snow, fell around the two of them. The two stared at each other for a few seconds before she smiled back.

 

“Lucemon...” she said gently.

 

The rookie digimon's grin grew big and he reached forward to take her hand, head tilted to the side.

 

“Ophanimon!” he said. “Winter's begun! Can we go out and play in the snow?”

 

Ophanimon hesitated.

 

Winced a little.

 

Then, hesitantly, she said, “I'm sorry, but I don't think I can today. The Ninjamon are at it again with the Piratemon, and it's created this whole big mess. Can you forgive me?”

 

“NO!” Lucemon folded his arms stubbornly. “No, I'm sorry, but I can't!”

 

“Oh no! Why not?!” Ophanimon asked.

 

Lucemon grinned big. “'Cause you're a jerk.”

 

“Jerk? Who taught you that word?”

 

“Takuya...”

 

“Oh he did, did he? Well, I'll have to talk to him. That wasn't nice of him to teach you that.”

 

“I've learned a lot of things...” Lucemon looked off in the distance toward the window, splayed with white light, dancing across his arctic blue eyes so brilliantly. Snowflakes were slowly falling outside, a few sticking to the windowpane, others continuing to fall to the once-grassy grounds below the castle. His expression - it'd been a long time since Ophanimon had seen that kind of glassy expression on anyone's face, especially Lucemon's.

 

Her eyes narrowed.

 

“So...” Her voice grew curious, friendly, yet... serious. Very serious. “What have you learned?”

 

Lucemon released her hand - such a delicate gesture, so sweet and kind - and moved to the window. He folded his hands behind him, face close to the glass as he examined that snow, so bright, so glistening, so beautiful. He replied, “How come you never told me, Ophanimon?”

 

Ophanimon's lips thinned.

 

“How come you never told me that I - I - am the reason for not only one rebellion, but two?” he whispered. One of his hands reached forward and pressed against the glass, forming frost there. “Rebellions which took the lives of thousands - including yours, Seraphimon's, and even Kerpymon's? Even Kouichi's digital form. I... killed. Right?”

 

Ophanimon's eyes widened slightly.

 

“Who told you this?” she snapped, standing from her desk. “Who said this?!”

 

“It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am responsible for many great sins, and had to be stopped by - humans.” He released the glass, hand trembling. Though Ophanimon could see nothing but his back, she could see from his reflection against the window that his eyes were wide, and he was staring at that quivering hand as if he hadn't even realized it was shaking until that moment. “Even I was killed - killed by humans who raised me to believe that we were family.”

 

No.

 

No, no, no, no, no.

 

She couldn't be hearing this. How did he know? Did he suddenly remember? She needed him, she needed him as her family - she couldn't let it happen again. She wouldn't let it happen again. Lucemon was a part of her now, right?

 

Sighing, she took a deep breath and moved as close to him as he would allow without shifting away.

 

“Lucemon...” Ophanimon said in a hurt voice. Lucemon, weakened by that voice, so sweet but pained, sighed and let his shoulders go limp. As soon as he let his guard down, Ophanimon rushed forward and, slightly hesitant, rested a trembling hand on his shoulder. “We... are family. We didn't tell you because we knew it'd hurt you. You're not that demon anymore. You're Lucemon. Destined to be a great friend and ally. My great friend and ally.”

 

The rookie digimon swallowed - his eyes shining as he attempted to comprehend what she'd said. Though her exterior was one of supreme tranquility and unity, inside, she thought she'd die. Alarms were being set off in her mind. Her pulse was racing. Her cheeks were flushed. Her knees were shaking.

 

Lucemon knew what he'd done in his past life.

 

Finally, after destroying him twice, they'd gotten a Lucemon who didn't remember the bloodshed - one who didn't remember the high it'd given him. They thought they could raise him to be a strong, true friend, like he had once been. However, at that moment, something within Ophanimon realized that it could never be true.

 

Lucemon would always betray them.

 

Always.

 

“Don't lie to me,” Lucemon whispered, his eyes suddenly falling half-lidded.

Ophanimon's muscles tensed.

 

Lucemon's hand stopped shaking.

 

His voice so apathetic.

 

“I can hear it, Ophanimon - your heart. It's beating a mile a minute, isn't it?” Lucemon's lips cracked and twisted, curled into a grin. “And don't think I didn't notice your knees shaking. You're terrified. You're - afraid of me, aren't you? You don't trust me, Ophanimon, do you?”

 

“Lucemon, I...” She bit her bottom lip. It was hard for her to tell him that no, she didn't trust him, and after everything he did in the past, it'd be hard to gain her trust again - if things were the same as they were before, she'd have no problem. Except she'd been raising Lucemon for almost five years now (Kerpymon a half-year before that, and Seraphimon for a half-year after Kerpymon), and he'd grown. Though still childlike in many ways, Lucemon was kind, sweet, almost like a son to her.

 

But wasn't it normal for parents to not trust their children fully?

 

She swallowed, bowed her head, and at least attempted to keep her cool. He was right. He was right, but blowing it way too out of a proportion, and she didn't want someone she cared about getting hurt by her uncertainty.

 

“I feel that in some ways, you're right - I don't trust you,” Ophanimon said gently, crouching down so that she and Lucemon were at eye-level. Suddenly smiling warmly, she tilted her head to the side, reached forward, and... embraced him. But she didn't just embrace him, she held him wholly, not only with her arms, but with her gold-tinted wings, sweeping forward as feathers fell around them. Wings wrapped tight around them, she whispered in his ear, softly, “But... in other ways... Lucemon, you are the one I trust most. Don't forget - you are weaving a new beginning. The path you took two lives ago does not need to be the one you take again, because this time, you have the love of many behind you - the Chosen's, the other Holy Angels', and... mine. Let our love guide you where we could not before.”

 

(It was that day, right when Ophanimon pulled away from Lucemon, that he had fallen. Fallen not only to his shadow, but also to his heart; a heart that had clung to a woman who felt not desire, but motherly affection.)

 

(Later that week, red would fall onto the freshly fallen snow, such pure white as angel wings, and taint that white deep red.)

 

.+.

 

“They don't WANT you, Lucemon...

 

“They're... AFRAID of you, Lucemon...

 

“Don't you have any Pride?

 

“Don't you care that they are hurting you?

 

“I am all you need, Lucemon... I... am all you need...”

 

You're right.

 

You are all I need.

 

You are right.

 

You're all I need.

 

You're right.

 

You are all I need.

 

You are right.

 

You're all I

 

.Need.

 

Swelling ambitions, a head filled with manipulations, a heart full of fear and tribulation; a spirit once burning so bright so long ago, now broken and beaten; a soul he would have never needed.

 

There was a weight on his chest.

 

The weight of the world.

 

He had power, he had strength, he had willingness.

 

He deserved respect, he deserved love, he deserved trust.

 

And if those who raised him would not give him those three divine rights, then Goddramon help him, he would make them.

 

.+.

 

“So these are the mon whom Ophanimon loves.”

 

The words were stated so carelessly, so strangely quiet. The winds were whipping around him, blond hair billowing in the fierce gales which surrounded them atop the mountain peak, golden light gleaming around him as he ascended upon a pedestal made of light, dark, and stone. He was no longer just Lucemon, oh no, his power had risen, risen to such a height in which he felt no longer like just any digimon, but like a god - a god, baby.

 

Lucemon Chaos Mode.

 

And he was staring both Kerpymon and Seraphimon in the eye.

 

The two digimon swallowed, staring wide-eyed at Lucemon.

 

It was winter then. The snow was falling around them in gentle flakes, fluttering, like small pieces of paper falling, falling, falling. White was all around them, cold and wet, yet they could not - would not - move. They stared at each other for what felt like forever.

 

The snow continued to fall.

 

“Lucemon!” Seraphimon said, reaching forward. “Don't do this!”

 

“Please, you're - our friend,” Kerpymon whispered, taking a step toward Lucemon, eyes glinting so sadly. “We can't fight you.”

 

“You already did,” Lucemon cooed, tilting his head to the side. Eyes half-lidded, he tittered, taking a step down from his smoking pedestal. As his foot elegantly moved, stairs were formed, and he stepped down each step with a strange, kind of refined grace. “I died, remember?”

 

Seraphimon and Kerpymon paled.

 

Lucemon laughed.

 

Laughed.

 

“Sometimes...” he whispered, eyes growing larger. “Sometimes, I hear this voice in my head...”

 

Haha.

 

“And it tells me the funniest things...”

 

Hahaha.

 

“I want to block it out.” His hand was reaching, reaching, reaching, right toward Kerpymon and Seraphimon. His grin widened. His lip lifted to show his toothy grin. “But I can't.”

 

Hahahaha.

 

“And when I can't—” His eyes were bulging. His hand landed on Seraphimon's cheek. Seraphimon felt - frozen - frozen forever in time. “—I won't.”

 

SPLT

 

In was winter.

 

The snow was white.

 

Was white until Seraphimon's blood was spilt, turning it to red.

 

Seraphimon cried out, but he REFUSED to be taken down just like that. He grabbed Lucemon's wrist before he could pull away and threw the manlike digimon into that white snow, blood trickling down his face as the mark Lucemon had given him went deep.

 

“Seraphimon!” Kerpymon called, reaching out to help him, but Seraphimon stopped him with his arm.

 

“No, Kerpymon, we mustn't indulge him too much,” Seraphimon spat. “This delusional child must be dealt with swiftly, before his pride gets the better of him and he decides to face us and die a third time.”

 

Hahahaha!

 

“You... idiots...”

 

Both angel digimon looked up as Lucemon rose from the snow, arms limp at his sides, grinning, the blue markings embedded in his skin seemingly glowing in the white light. His demon wing twitched as his angel wing folded, and in one hand he held an orb of light. In the other, he held an orb of darkness.

 

Kerpymon lunged forward, but Seraphimon held him back and hissed, “Lucemon! Think about what you're doing!”

 

“Hold your tongue,” Lucemon hissed. “Who are you talking to again? That's right. Lucemon. Lucemon. You've known me for centuries and raised me for six years - you should know that when I'm determined to finish something, I—”

The light grew into a massive flame, engulfing not only Lucemon, but the surrounding snow, burning, nothing but water in the red earth now.

Those flames reflected in his eyes.

 

“—Will—”

 

The darkness grew into a great shadow, triple the height and width of Lucemon, covering everything from the left side of the demonic angel they'd known as Lucemon.

 

Consuming half of him.

 

“—NOT—”

 

His two fists

 

“—STOP—!”

 

punched together.

 

Shadow and flame - light and dark - exploded around him.

 

Rushed forward like a tsunami, power crushing against the ground as it flung instantly toward Seraphimon and Kerpymon. Ripping apart white-covered greenery and tearing away boulders from their resting place, the attack rose and plunged toward the two angel digimon, ready to devour everything - anything - it touched.

 

“Kerpymon!” Seraphimon called, bringing out a staff. He twirled it around his fingers as Kerpymon nodded and held out his hands.

 

“Let's do this!” Kerpymon said back, white orbs of light manifesting at the center of his palms. That white light then burst forth, followed by the golden radiance flowing from Seraphimon's own staff. The two lights combined and shot toward the tsunami, Seraphimon and Kerpymon determined to not let it get past their barrier of light.

 

“ARE YOU STUPID?” Lucemon snarled, taking another step down from his pedestal. Staring deep into the eyes of his mentors, he suddenly - carelessly - threw his head back in laughter. “You weaklings! YOU are the digimon whom I've been learning from?! So much potential lost!”

 

The tsunami was overcoming their shield - pressing, pressing, pressing.

 

Crk!

 

The shield began to splinter.

 

“K—Kerpymon!” Seraphimon fell on one knee.

 

Panting, sweat dotting his face, Kerpymon said through clenched teeth, “We must remain strong, Seraphimon! We must not give up! Even if he is like a brother to us, he does not love us anymore!”

 

“Love?” Lucemon snickered. “What is `love'? What is faith? What is hope? Hah! How depressing. This sickens me.”

 

Lucemon's wings spread, his head tilted back slightly as he grinned and, with those wings, as white as snow, he flew forward - over the tsunami of light and dark energy, over the golden shield of power - and landed behind Seraphimon and Kerpymon.

 

Seraphimon's eyes widened.

 

“KERPYMON!”

 

SPLT

 

Data twisted and turned, fluttering to the sky above it - going against the tide of snow. Seraphimon's eyes widened as he watched that data rise, his last knee wobbling - wobbling - and finally falling, digging into the freezing cold. Clutching desperately to his staff, flinging everything he had forward to stop that tsunami of energy, Seraphimon bowed his head and bit back tears.

 

“Kerpymon...” Seraphimon whispered.

 

Lucemon's eyes narrowed.

His gaze ventured to the castle about a mile away, built upon a high foundation, rising so high it was like a castle in the sky. Clouds rose and fleeted by, snowflakes falling around it, carrying, carrying, carrying.

 

That gaze traveled to a nearby axe sticking out of an unconscious Woodmon's back.

 

“Lucemon, you might destroy Kerpymon and myself - even Ophanimon,” Seraphimon said, looking up, hands shaking as he held back that great power. “But know this: even after our deaths, even though our blood stains your hands, you are still weaving a new beginning...”

 

“Shut up,” Lucemon hissed, stepping toward the axe in the Woodmon's back.

 

“—a new beginning filled with love—”

 

“Shut up!”

 

Seraphimon lifted one leg.

 

Put a foot flat on the ground.

 

“—Our love, mine and Kerpymon's and Ophanimon's and even the Chosen's—”

 

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

 

He yanked the axe from the Woodmon's back, causing the creature to explode into data, data that rose and curled and coiled in the air like smoke, the Woodmon's sudden cries still screaming even as his data was all that was left of him.

Marching toward Seraphimon, the angelic digimon lifted his other foot - placed it flat on the ground.

 

“—And that will never die, though our bodies may!”

 

The axe rose above Seraphimon's head, but he did not waver, he only stood, chin raised high, light fighting the energy pressing against the barrier.

 

“Lucemon! You still have many paths to travel! Don't forget - I know you will someday go back to the path you were meant to choose, even if we three Holy Angels die today!”

 

SPLSH

 

That winter, snow was everywhere.

 

Red, deep red snow.

 

SPLSH

 

(

He remembered that smile, so kind and so sweet, his embrace so warm as he held up a small in-training digimon. The in-training digimon - a Cupimon - blinked, looking up at him, curious as to who this warm digimon was - could he really be a digimon? Or some amazing creature?

)

 

SPLSH

 

(

The manlike digimon put the Cupimon on his shoulder and began walking toward a distant castle, smiling warmly.

 

“Hey there,” he said softly. Such a strong voice, deep but not rough, firm but not stern. A happy voice. So strangely happy. “My name is Seraphimon.”

 

“...Seraphimon?”

 

The manlike digimon - Seraphimon - grinned and nodded.

 

“From now on, I am your brother,” Seraphimon told him. “We are a family.”

 

A

 

FAMILY

)

 

CRRRRRRRACK

 

Bones

Bones

Bones

Chest plate CRRRRACKING

Armor falling, falling, falling

White is RED white is RED

And cheeks are tearstained

But whose cheeks oh whose cheeks are tearstained?

 

(

Cupimon was crying one time; he'd fallen, hurt his knee. It was the first time he'd seen blood—

)

 

Blood

 

So much

 

BLOOD

 

(

But it was Kerpymon who reached down and picked him up, carried him all the way to the library where Cupimon had always felt most relaxed, and put a band-aid on his knee.

 

When he saw Cupimon crying, he softly laughed and reached forward, wiping away the young one's tears with his index finger. Drying them, he said, “It's just a cut. Cuts are a part of life - we all get cut sometimes, be it by accident or on purpose. Luckily, we also have someone there who will

 

“Always

 

“Pick us up off our feet.”

)

 

SSSSSSSNAP

PLSH

 

(

Our paths are not predetermined.

 

You can still fly away, Lucemon.

 

Fly...

 

Fly away...

)

 

Data burst around Lucemon and flew up to the sky. Face flecked with red, Lucemon watched it ascend to the aether above, eyes half-lidded and muscles relaxed. He watched, not knowing that it was not blood he felt trickle down his cheeks.

 

Rising, rising, rising, Lucemon then turned his sights to the castle.

 

He wondered if she knew.

 

If Ophanimon knew that her comrades - her loves, be it whatever kind of love that was - were dead.

 

He killed his brothers.

 

Killing a few other family members wasn't so bad.