Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ The Other Side of the Mirror ❯ Descent into Madness ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: Sugah

~~a/n~~ Well, people this fic is dark, with violent content. If you're young, or offended by such things (and yes, there WILL be yaoi, later on.) I suggest you don't read this fic. I don't need flames, although they do bring down the heating bill…*wink*

~~This fic is for Vain's Contest!!

<center>~The Other Side of the Mirror~</center>

~Failure.~

~Nothing but a failure.~

A black-gloved fist slammed into the slick glass of the glowing monitor panel, a silvery web of cracks radiating from his knuckles. A sliver of the glass pierced the thick leather, gouging deep into the groove between the first and second knuckles, drawing blood. It slid down in a thin trail, spreading slightly through the small cracks. The monitor flickered, its fractured image breaking apart.

The Kaizer barely felt the small stab of pain, his face drawn in a dark animalistic scowl. ~Failure,~ his mind whispered to him, taunting and mocking. His gaze remained fixed on a single image, and despite the damaged panel, he could still make out the triumphant grin on the face of his enemy.

Deep inside, where everything he locked down still lived, a small jubilant voice jeered at him. ~Still not as good…~

"Shut up!" he hissed, and drew his hand away, still ignoring the prick of the sharp glass, the single drop of blood that stained his pants. He swayed back, breathing shallowly, and a tiny mad giggle escaped him.

Crouched in the shadows, Wormmon flinched at the sound of the laughter, part of him whimpering softly as the swaying form stalked over to peer into a different monitor. Things were worse. The Digidestined had defeated them again, and his Ken was slipping away. The small green Digimon crouched closer to the floor, wishing himself invisible, always wishing for something to change.

"I can't fail…I won't. I refuse to!" A strangled sound choked at him, and the black-covered fists quivered by his sides. With the gleam of a fanatic, the Kaizer stared at a different panel, daring it to show him another defeat.

Wormmon looked away, sadness and grief in his heart, and heard the angry high-pitched hiss, and the resulting chime-like shattering of the glass.

Something…no, two somethings thunked into the floor, one after the other. They sounded heavy; Wormmon peeked his head out from behind his own tail and his pale watery blue eyes widened.

The wall before the Kaizer was dented, and a splatter of blood graced the now-bare metal. It was eerie to see the patch of simple gray metal in the illusionary space effect around him.

The Kaizer, however, was staring down at his feet, at the two cracked panels that had split almost evenly around him. Spider-cracks fractured the two pieces of viewing panel, yet it remained close enough to tell the definite split.

"That's it…" he whispered fervently. ~Split…in two…~ A grin touched with madness spread slowly across his face. "That's it!"

The blue-clad Kaizer spun, his boots cracking over glass and sending it spinning as he strode forward, laughing. "I'll get rid of my weakness…" Then he vanished, teleporting from the room.

Silence, and the glitter of glass were the only company left for Wormmon. The green Digimon shivered, feeling hopeless, resigned, even at a loss. A curl of dread, icy cold, was seeping slowly through him.

"Oh, dear…" was all he could whisper, unable to express it in any other way. Softly, so softly, he began to creep out of the shadows, wary and stubborn at the same time. To Wormmon, the Ken he knew, the Ken he loved and served willingly, was already dead.

"It's odd, isn't it?"

Four heads rose to follow the quiet statement, and Takeru ducked his head and dropped his hand from the branch he was holding. He stood under a young tree, the trunk still very thing and the leaves sparse. "It seems like the Kaizer is up to something."

There was silence, broken only by the whispers of a faint breeze, and the rest of the Digidestined looked at each other, gathered together over the weekend to take down the rising number of black spires. It was now Sunday; they had all left on Friday afternoon.

The odd thing was, as Takeru had pointed out, was that the complete and mystifying absence of the usually possessive Kaizer. Sometimes all it took was one destroyed spire to bring him storming furiously from his base, but it had been three days.

Definitely suspicious.

"We should be careful," the ever-serious Iori murmured. "We don't know if he's setting a trap for us, or just too busy to notice."

"I agree," Takeru said softly, and looked over his shoulder at the group. The five were seated over the remains of an ancient building, with their backpacks at their feet and the empty lunch-bags in their laps. The area they had been clearing today was near the mountainous north, and at the moment they were in the lower hilly cliffside of the foothills. Dangerous, indeed, if someone should attack; they'd be at a distinct disadvantage.

Takeru had a sneaky suspicion that when the Kaizer was through with whatever he was planning, the boy was going to be furious with all their hard work.

"The day's still young," the over-confidant voice, slightly arrogant tone revealed Daisuke's point of view. "I say we finish up for today, and head back for some ice cream."

"It could be a trap, Daisuke," Miyako looked up from the computer she was peering at, typing occasionally to relocate their position and anything around them. "But I do see more spires to the east. About fifty, actually." She paused to scroll down. "I don't see any sign of the Kaizer," she said after a reluctant pause.

"Great! Let's get going!" Daisuke shot to his feet. Beside him Veemon bounced up, his pose mimicking his partner, and within seconds the two were gone, disappeared through the brush that surrounded the overgrown clearing.

Takeru knew that there was no chance of calling the boy back, and with an exasperated sigh, he nodded to the rest. "Well, let's get going," he repeated.

When he finally came out of the thick mental fugue, seeming to rise into himself as his mind returned slowly to him, the first thing that assaulted his senses was the fact that his entire body seemed to be on fire from tiny prickling sensations. Inhalation was a painful risk. Moving sent piercing daggers shooting with white-hot blades through his head.

Dimly, he heard the sound of his breathing echoing off the sleek gray metal walls of the small cell. The floor was shockingly cold against his skin; he realized that the clothing on his back was ripped in places, and missing in most others. He rasped painfully, his hands scrabbling at the floor in an attempt to push himself up.

~…where…~ a jumble of images, colored strongly with fear, crowded the back of his mind. Anger, then a burst of pain and a thick ripping sensation. ~…What…~

A faint recollection of an eerie colorless ring, hovering in his mind, plagued him with uneasy nausea. The ring was important, but the very thought of it sickened him. It had something to do with the ring, and its purpose…but what was it?

He was so terribly confused. Just what was he doing here, locked in a room and feeling sick, feeling like his skin had been ripped off… ~Nani…who am I?~

Much of his mind was blank, a gaping void where he should have had memories of something.

There was almost nothing, except for something akin to the sense of being held. A warm face, smooth and framed with brown hair. When he was a child, she had held him close, whispering to him and smiling at him. His…

~…mom?~

For what seemed to be the first time in a long long time, he felt tears thicken the back of his throat. He hadn't thought of his mother in such a way for too long. He knew that he had forgotten something, and he couldn't remember why that made him sad; it just seemed wrong to know he had forgotten about his mother.

But why?

He couldn't seem to remember the answer to "why" anymore. There was too much in his head, or there wasn't enough. He wasn't sure anymore.

Several times since he had awakened in the small dark room he attempted to rise, and each time he had struggled to his knees, only to sway dizzily as his head seemed to expand, his vision sending swirls of color through the blackness. An inescapable wave of pain and something missing beating into his head, throbbing like a fast-paced drum.

Something was definitely wrong.

After a long timeless bout of struggling and scooting backwards on his bottom, pushing with his weak legs, cool metal touched the exposed skin of his shoulder blades. A wall. Now he was trapped.

His breath jerked, jarring the headache and the strange skinless feeling into a strong pulse. ~Oh god,~ he thought after his head had slowly cleared. ~What have I done?~

A hot tear ran a single track down his face. Now that he was sitting, his head was slowly freeing itself of the pain, although it was quick to return if he moved to fast. Despite that, he was still feeling oddly numb, out of balance. He dimly remembered standing in front of the mirror; it was the last thing he could think off. Going into a room, and seeing a body? A person?

His head pounded a warning, and he knew that thinking too deeply on the subject would only increase his frustration and headache. His head leaning back against the wall, he tried to inhale slowly, to calm his racing heart and uneasy mind. Perhaps he'd just rest a bit, and think of everything later, he told himself, and slipped into darkness thicker than the lightless space around him.

He could have been sleeping for hours; he had no way to tell just *when* the door to his cell opened with a silent hiss. Still, he came awake almost instantly, warned by an instinctive nudge from his mind, and raised protesting hands to shield his eyes from the sudden blinding light. A tingle of fear coursed through him, icy and jagged.

Someone was there. He knew it without even bothering to open his eyes, without moving.

The figure, a slim silhouette against the intentionally bright light was standing with one arm cocked, and the other hanging loosely. The head seemed bent in thought.

"Get up." The flat-sounding voice had a hard cold edge to it, anger coating his words just enough to make them a threat.

Squinting, he flinched at the sound of the voice and defensively curled closer to the wall, peeked with slitted eyes through the fingers. Despite the hands, he couldn't make out any of the features, but nameless horror still gnawed at his gut. ~No…~

A low mocking laugh reached him. "Aw…are you afraid?"

~…it can't be him…~ A part of him froze in denial.

"You should be," the figure stated, seeming to smirk. He took a slow step forward, moving beyond the bright square of light, and into a shadowed area, deep enough to be seen, yet still backed by the blinding light.

~That's my voice…~

And, as his eyes adjusted enough to discern the shadowed and still back-lit features, his stomach flipped over and plummeted, cold sweat pricking at his skin, chilling him.

~That's my face…~

Framed as he was in the faint light, the intruder must have seen the wave of horror pass over his face. The twin copy threw back his head to laugh in dark amusement. Hair, dark midnight purple framed delicate features.

He looked every inch of the normal teen he had been once, the face he had seen in the mirror.

But the glint of madness wasn't there before. The laughter, and the carefully concealed malevolence in the body posture…

No…This was the true Kaizer, something created out of simple malice, darkness.

~And I'm what's left over,~ he thought, staring fearfully between his hands. A wave of dizzying sickness seemed to lodge itself in his throat.

"I told you to get up," the laughter suddenly calmed into an anger-filled snarl, and a solid kick was aimed at him. Unable to avoid it, he merely curled up on his legs, and fought back a flood of confused tears, tasting the metallic terror in his mouth.

"Get up. "

The body flinched, and he glanced up at the barely visible violet eyes. Things would be much worse if he didn't, and stiffly, rose to his feet, using the wall for leverage when his legs began to shake.

"Yes, such obedience," the Kaizer purred, his face cold and malignant in the darkness. He took three steps closer, thrusting his face within inches of his double, and continued, "You hate me, don't you. I can see it in your eyes," he whispered.

An odd emotion passed over his face, as if it was disconcerting to see the mirror's image come to life, and the Kaizer suddenly sneered, twisting the innocent-looking face. "But you're just a copy," he muttered in disdain, his voice darkening. "I created you. Those faint memories you have…they are mine. I put all of the things unwanted into you. You are merely a container…"

Pressed tightly against the wall, unable to look away or even comprehend, he fixed his gaze on the pair of dark eyes and fought against the ever-constant press of fear on his lungs. His mouth opened; he swallowed thickly. ~nngh…I can't talk…"

"You see," the tone switched to a dangerous lilt, and the face tilted, as if hearing his thoughts. "You won't be able to speak. I programmed that little effect as well. Wonderful, isn't it?" A hand, wrapped in black leather, reached up to traced slowly along the column of his neck, and he closed his eyes against the Kaizer's presence.

Without warning, the same hand struck him across the cheek, stinging it with surprising force. The back of his head smacked into the metal wall and he opened his eyes with a soundless gasp. Amethyst eyes, hard and still lifeless, glared at him from the perfect features.

"You can do nothing. You are nothing." The Kaizer sneered into the pale visage and brought his other hand around, striking sharply. A small dark spot of blood blossomed under the nose, and the Kaizer grinned wickedly, digging his fingers into the mussed hair. Tugging the head forward, knowing that the other was unable to bring up any reasonable defenses, he slammed it back viciously and missed the small giggles coming from his own throat.

The other, the double, opened his mouth to speak, to cry out, to anything, but no sound came forth. Instead, almost of their own accord, his hands rose to clasp fiercely around the wrists of his attacker, trying to shield himself or stave off the blows.

A knee slammed into his gut, and he fell forward, breathless and jerking with dry heaves, until the hands clamped around his face, cold fingers splayed against his temples, and raised his head. Involuntarily, he raised his eyes, tasting the blood in his mouth. A wave of mixed hate and fear churned his stomach. ~…hate you…~ he thought. ~I'm going to kill you…~

Violet eyes met pain-clouded violet. The Kaizer smiled dreamily and in a parody of what the other was thinking, said, "I shall enjoy killing you."

From outside of the small cell, Wormmon was almost pacing in the mounting fear and worry. He knew something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong, and he wasn't able to help.

He didn't even know what had happened in the three days that he had disappeared into his lab, locking himself inside.

All he knew was that his Ken had changed drastically when the door had opened. A dark thick material was sheathing his body, and a velvety version of the color served as his cape. For a moment, Wormmon had felt a stab of joy, then a sudden deep dark fear that only true evil can bring.

So, instead of greeting his master, he had slunk off into the shadows, hiding, while he walked softly and dangerously through the halls, stopping soon before a small barred door.

Now, he couldn't hear anything inside the room except for the occasional burst of laughter. Shivering, Wormmon only waited, afraid and alone.