Young Writers Society

Emanuelle Golding

Em didn't really give a shit about the battle. Honestly. She'd much rather be sitting on the beach dozing off in the warm sunlight, as opposed to being stuck here with these idiots.

Zoey was staring (or glaring, whatever - it didn't matter. The point was that Zoey's eyes were on her.) Em always knew Zoey wanted her. The blond smiled viciously and tossed her head. She was used to being stared at.

Em looked around. God. Why were they even here? It wasn't as if any of the digimon were breaking out of this prison - no digimon had. Ever. Not even when those perverted serial killers were housed here. This was one of the best prisons in the -

Then the alarm went off. Em's face fell. And on the day she'd chosen to wear stilettos? Fuck you, world. Apparently, Leomon needed the prison funds to cure his balding head. Peachy.

Dorumon glanced at her, then at the prison, and Em's digivice gleamed. She nodded. "Let's get this over with," she muttered, her cold gaze sliding towards Joe. "Before he vomits more cliches."

The team rushed past her, and Em shook in fury as she realized how absolutely stupid it was of her to wear stilettos. Of course, it wasn't entirely her fault - this prison was known to be safe. Secure.

Fuckdamn. Frustrated, Em slipped out of her stilettos and ran barefoot towards the rest of the team. She was short, and they might have been taller, but they weren't quite as quick as she was, and she caught up with them after a while. The tiles burned cold into her feet, but hey, price she paid for looking pretty, no?

Zoey snickered. "What's wrong with your shoes, Emma? Can't run in them?"

Oh Zoey. Em bristled at the nickname, but showed nothing but a honeyed smile laced with arsenic. "The best shoes hurt the most. It's why I don't wear comfortable ones." She let her eyes drop to Zoey’s ratty sneakers for a moment, and then continued on her way.

Em almost crashed into Rio, but caught herself before she rammed into the boy. A slew of curses flew from his mouth.

“Why Rio, I didn’t know you had such a colorful vocabulary,” Em teased.

“Would you please pull your head out of your ass long enough to see what’s happened?” Zoey snapped, gesturing at the cell in front of Rio.

“She’s right, Emmanuelle.” Dorumon grimly nodded at the cage. “Look.”

She could have surprised a sailor. Joe approached the doors carefully. “They’re still locked tight. How’d you think they got out?”

She wasn’t sticking around for this. Damn them all. Damn their incompetence and damn her own self for being so stupid as to actually leave those convicts alone. Why did she go with those morons again? She didn’t have to watch to know who’d win. Rio was born to be a rough-and-tumble sort of guy, while Joe…Joe was the sucker of the minute.

“Where are you going?” called Joe as Em stormed off.

She turned around and threw a stiletto – one at Zoey, and the other at Joe. Zoey ducked and the sandal only smacked her cheek, but the sandal landed squarely on the back of Joe’s head as he returned to inspect the empty cell.

“Ow! What the hell -?!”

“Don’t just stand there like retards,” Em screamed. “They couldn’t have gotten far. Let’s get off our asses and look for them.”

“Bitch –“

Em was already gone, stalking off to one of the emptier halls. She slammed her hand against one of the cells, seething, and the poor digimon inside faced a furious ice queen. Patamon cowered, and Dorumon nudged his tamer.

“Calm down.”

How could she? She blew it. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wasn’t wearing waterproof eyeliner today, and heaven forbid her makeup ran down her face in streaks. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. I’ll talk to the digimon, all right?”

Em let out a deep breath. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

None of the digimon seemed to know what happened, and this didn’t really help. Fifteen cells and twenty minutes later, Em had exhausted herself and was on the verge of screaming until someone paid her some attention.

“Don’t you dare tell me none of you saw anything,” Em shrieked as the Gatomon denied knowledge of what happened. “Someone had to fucking see something, unless you’re all blind. You use your eyes, don’t you? I’d be happy to get rid of them for you if you don’t.”

“Em-“

Em slapped the hand away from her shoulder, almost instinctively.

“Em, we’re being called. Leomon wants to see us in his office.”

Through teary blue eyes she glared at Rio. “Oh yeah, because it’s just what we need. An sterile old digimon scolding us for his cheap prison’s failure.”

Still shaking, she took a deep breath. "Give me a while. I'll come. One minute. It's all I need." Steady, steady. Breathe in, breathe out.

She could do this.

Rio Nash

“Immediately doesn’t wait for Stilettos, Em.” Rio sighed as he typed in more text on his terminal. At this rate, he’d be reporting things all day, and none of the headlines would look good.

GUARD LEAVES STATION FOR PLEASURE

OFFICIAL LOSES LOST LOSERS

RIO NASH: BEGRUDGINGLY SMUDGED

Rio groaned as he jerked the battery from his terminal and shoved it in his pocket; it would have to wait. Rio stepped into the unused locker room for the guards and rummaged through the desk drawers of the old permanent guard, Stephen. He had retired long ago, so the tamers used his desk to keep everything from snacks to...got it...keys. Rio tossed the keys up in the air and caught them again, walking out the locker room door to a trio of other tamers, all asking about what happened. Joe, of course, was obliging them with a story (sound effects included) while Em and Zoey stood at the door. Em, she was checking her reflection in the tiny screen of her digivice; Zoey was biting her fingernails, awaiting Rio.

Mr. Hero-that-failed-on-the-simplest-of-jobs grabbed Joe by the shoulder and heaved him out the door, flanked by Em and Zoey, and all four Digimon. They walked briskly towards the side of the prison where a family of black-and-red Wranglers sat parked in a line. Rio hopped in the driver’s seat and the others heaved themselves in, not even bothering to say a word. Rio took a moment to breathe before revving the beast to life beneath them. Rio yanked the Wrangler out of the field and onto the main, sparkling blue road, headed for city hall. He wondered, really, why he had been put on Guard duty in the first place, especially with three tamers with hardly any experience. He scoffed in his head. Fresh out of the real world, probably. Sure, he didn’t know hardly anything about them, just that Em liked to bitch and that Joe was a moron. God, he thought, he really is.

Rio breathed out a stressed sigh, already predicting how bad the sentence would be. Would Leomon really strip him of his title for the escape? Surely he would be safe...after all he had done...

Rio shook his head, checking in the mirror to see Zoey glaring ahead, determined. She always had that stare when anything went wrong; she was built for emergencies, Rio guessed. And Em, she was talking through her eyes to Dorumon.

“I wonder what’s on the radio,” Joe yelled over the wind, and reached down towards the box in the center of the seats. Rio gave a swift jab across the boy’s hand, keeping his hardened eyes focused ahead, both on the road and on his punishment. “Chill, man,” Joe groaned, and fell back in his seat.

“Rio,” Agumon called from the back of the jeep. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Rio, he mustered a smile and nodded slowly, watching Digimon on the sides of the streets as they slowed down.

“...why are they running?” Zoey asked, and pointed towards a group of Salamon and Patamon fleeing down the street. Rio narrowed his eyes, but lost his train of thought as a street official walked out of the alley, his partner, Strikedramon, holding a Guilmon by the tail. Rio sighed and sped forward, inching closer to City Hall.

Impmon

Their voices were quiet, hushed as they crouched in a broom closet. It was by some miracle that Impmon’s teleporting had gotten them into City Hall already. What really didn’t make sense was that they weren’t sliced apart the minute they appeared. So they were all huddled together in a closet beneath a stairwell, the only light in the room coming from the fire on Candlemon’s head and hands.

“Just tell me why we’re going there,” Renamon murmured. She sounded tireder than she looked, and she looked pretty damn tired. Impmon nodded and pulled them in closer.

“Here’s the deal,” he said. “None of us want out names all smudgy with smudge, right?”

They all nodded.

“Right. Well we need to clear our names then, right?”

They nodded again.

“I overheard one’a the other guys in my cell talkin’ about his buddies goin’ to the real world to release a couple’a dark Digimon into the Digiworld from the Dark Area.” Impmon grinned, his eyes narrowing. “So we’re gonna stop ‘em before they can do such a thing!”

“We’ll be heroes,” Elecmon quipped, grinning.

“We won’t go back to jail?” Candlemon pressed its hands together, dripping wax onto Elecmon’s head.

“Watch it!” He snapped, and sparked him from his tail.

Impmon shushed them and nodded. “So here’s our present set’a circumstances.” He held up a finger. “Step one: we sneak outta this closet and down the hall.” He pulled up another finger. “Step two: we find that portal to the real world.” He held up his last finger on his right hand. “Step three: we stick together and escape to the real world to find those baddies and clear our smudgy-smudge names.” The trio around him nodded. “Now, I don’t have any faith at all in you losers, but you’re all I got t’work with.” He smirked off to the side. “Not to mention y’followed me through the rift.”

Renamon smirked. “It’s the least we could do after you got us caught at the lab.”

Candlemon sighed, looking away. “And to think, all of this started because I wanted to do the right thing.”

“To be a hero, right?” Elecmon sighed as well.

“I don’t know what you jokers wanted, but I was told that there would be a free prank box at the lab.” Impmon shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter how we got here now.”

“What matters,” Renamon replied, “is that we’re together now...and that can’t change.”

The three nodded. “So for now we’re the villains.”

“I’m scared,” Candlemon shivered, holding its flames closer to its body. “What if we get cau--”

“Don’t use that word!” Impmon snapped, shaking his head. “Now.” He looked at Renamon. “Freeze anyone who gets close.”

She nodded. He looked at Candlemon. “Weld the locks on the doors shut after we enter the next room.” The burning Digimon nodded slowly, unsure.

Impmon looked down to Elecmon. “That portal’s probably not powered up...” Elecmon nodded.

“Say no more, mon capitan.”

Impmon blinked. “Captain?”

Elecmon shrugged his low shoulders. “May as well be. You got us out of that junk heap.”

Impmon shrugged. “If you say so, sparky.” Impmon put his hand in the center of the four of them.

Renamon placed hers on top. The other two followed suit, and they all nodded to one another.

“Allies,” Renamon quipped.

“Allies,” Candlemon replied.

Elecmon and Impmon nodded. “Then let’s go.”

Rio Nash

“Allow me to apologize, sir,” Rio said first. He was standing in the front line, the other three flanking him to the sides. His posture said that he was so sure of himself, that he realized the mistake before it was made.

“No,” the leader replied, his back turned. “All tamers make mistakes.” The enormous beast turned around to face them, his eyes piercing as diamond knives in the night time. “What’s important,” he returned, “is that we find them post-haste.”

Rio nodded, his hands folded behind his back, military-style.

“Since you four were on the job when this happened, you’ll be the ones to track down these prisoners.” Leomon placed his hands on his desk, leaning over it like he may pounce any moment. “Our operatives from Digital City have already dispatched officials to investigate their homes, so they won’t be surprised there.” Leomon nodded to Rio, looking past him to see the other three. “I want to caution you against combating them directly.” He nodded. “All four are supposedly masterful fighters while in champion form.”

“How do you know, sir?” asked Joe quietly.

“Our investigation led us to tournament records in Digital City’s Arena. My friend in the system got me some numbers. All of them but one have extensive victory records.”

The four nodded. Zoey coughed and spoke up. “And what about the Candlemon, sir?”

“Ever heard a rumor about a mercenery sorcerer?”

Em grinned. “The Rogue Wizardmon, right?”

Leomon nodded. “That Candlemon was supposedly once a mercenary who played any sort of blood sport...for the right price.” Leomon walked to the window overlooking the Torrent Plaza, shaking his head. “They’re out there, somewhere in our city, Tamers.” He looked back at Rio. “And they’re dangerous.”

Rio nodded and clasped his hands in front of him, narrowing his eyes. “They’ll still go down with us on the job.” Rio subconsciously anticipated Agumon to say something, but remembered where he was--out in the lobby. With a sigh, Rio unclasped his hands and returned to his stance. “We will retrieve the Convicts, sir.”

Leomon slowly nodded, handing Rio a tiny white device the size and shape of a bottle cap. “Once you’ve gotten them detained, use this device; it transmits an energy that will capture them and send them back here immediately.” He shook his head, locking eyes with Rio. “And be sure you use it wisely. Only four charges.”

Zoey raised an eyebrow. “Why only four, sir?”

“That device contains enough energy to power Torrent City for three days.”

Rio’s eyes widened, staring into the tiny machine in his hand. “So if this thing were to be dirupted...”

“Yes. A large explosion.”

“Awesome,” quipped Joe. The others shot glares at him. He shrugged and returned his attention to Leomon. “So when do we head ou--”

RED ALERT. RED ALERT. SECURITY BREACH. SECURITY BREACH. ANALOG ROOM BREACHED.

Leomon glared at the door as a trio of Knightmon burst through, securing the area. "Now," he demanded, and nodded to Rio. "We've said enough; go!"

Impmon

It was Renamon that crept forward to open the closet door in the end. She peeked out and turned back to the other Digimon. “Nobody out there. We should move fast, though. They’ll be searching for us.”

Impmon reached past Renamon to push the closet door open. “Come on. Let’s get going.” He walked out of the closet first, Renamon flattening herself against the nearest wall as if she didn’t want to touch him.

“Yes, Captain,” she said with a smile and followed him. Impmon tried to restrain his grin at the thoughts of wiping the smile off her face. He came to a staircase and paused as he waited for the others to catch up.

Elecmon rushed to catch up to them. “Do we know exactly where this portal is?”

Impmon shook his head. “Huh uh. But I heard one of the other prisoner’s say that Leomon’s office is on the third floor, so we’re gonna go down for now.”

The others nodded, and they went down the staircase. The different floors were surprisingly generic, even for a government building. “Lucky there’s only a few floors,” Candlemon muttered. “Or we could get lost. This place all looks the same. Do we continue on down and try from the bottom up?”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Renamon said. Impmon paused for a second and closed his eyes. “Getting bored of us already?” Renamon teased.

“I wouldn’t say bored. But it’s lucky for you that we need each other. Well,” Impmon said with a gleam in his eye. “I need Elecmon, at the very least.”

Elecmon shifted back and forth. “I think we should get going.” The four of them continued down the stairs and came to the bottom floor. This one was not as crowded as the ones above it, essentially a giant corridor.

The Digimon walked down the corridors. “I wonder why no security have found us yet. I can’t even hear an alarm,” Candlemon said. His voice quavered on “alarm.”

Impmon turned on him and glared. “Did you ever think the alarm might be silent, and they’re sending someone after us now? Even if one hasn’t gone off, they’re bound to’ve alarmed the portal room.” Candlemon jumped back a couple of steps as Impmon spoke. “Come on, buddy. Relax. We don’t want you melting before we can escape.” He grinned

They came to a room at the end of the corridor and stood before it. “Right. This is probably the room. Be ready. There might be some sort of security system inside, but it’s probably just an alarm. They’re getting pretty slack lately. As soon as we get in, you weld the door shut. Be ready, though. They could be somewhere near, and they might get to us before we fire the portal up.” Impmon paused, and adopted a tender tone. “And, guys?”

“Yeah?” Candlemon asked, an apprehensive smile flickering across his face.

“Don’t forget that if any of us get caught - I ain’t coming back for you.” Candlemon’s face fell, and Impmon cackled. “Lesse if this door’s locked, first.” It swung open at a single hit. “What’d I tell you? Slack!”

RED ALERT. RED ALERT. SECURITY BREACH. SECURITY BREACH. ANALOG ROOM BREACHED.

“In! Now!” he called and ran inside the room. It was empty but for the portal and its generator. The others followed suit and they slammed the door shut behind them. It only took a few seconds for Candlemon to weld the door shut.

Elecmon moved straight to the generator and crouched beside it for a couple of seconds. Electric bolts hit the generator and it started to hum. The lights flickered, and then everything returned to normal. “Again!” Renamon yelled.

Elecmon shook his head. “It needs to recharge. Just a few more seconds!”

“Hurry! They’ll be here any second!”

The four of them paused for a moment. Sure enough, they could hear footsteps running down the staircase and the sound of muffled yelling. Elecmon began to charge his energy again, and zapped the generator once more. This time the humming was louder, and the lights stayed on for a few seconds. They froze while they waited to see if it would work, and the lights turned off again.

“Go!” Candlemon yelled. “They’re right outside!”


Voices, clearer now, came from outside. Something pounded on the door. “I can’t get it open, Rio.”

“Knock it off the hinges,” someone said.

Elecmon charged his power one last time and struck the generator. This time it roared into life,
and the light of the portal opening almost blinded Impmon as he stared at it. “Go!” he yelled, and at the same moment the door flew off its hinges and an Agumon ran in. Candlemon and Elecmon ran through the portal together as Renamon turned to face the door.

“Diamond Storm!” Renamon called, and dozens of shards flew towards the Agumon. It raised its arms to defend itself.

Impmon rolled his eyes. “Tryin’a be a hero now is just going to get you killed.” Other Digimon and Tamers were yelling just beyond the door, and Agumon stepped aside to let them in. Renamon rushed through the portal and Impmon was a second behind. There was another bright flash, and Impmon considered investing in a pair of shades when he got to the real world. All he could see was the light surrounding him. After half a minute, he began to see vague objects and tried to focus his eyes.

Jean

"Go on, Simmons. Y' gonna go in or what?" Spades chuckled.
"What've I gotta go in for?" Jean scowled.
"Remember what Kingpin said," said Les. "The only way to be a full-qualified member of the Buffalo Gang is to pass this ini... inish... this test."
"Y' mean like all the other initiations I passed?" Jean shot back. "Every time I've done one o' your dumb tests hopin' t' join the gang, you've lied 'n' said I didn't do it right, or I took too long..."

"This ain't one o' those bogus tests," Spades put in. "It's th' real deal. Promise."
"A promise from you ain't worth jack-shit, Spades."
"Y'know me too well, Simmons," Spades grinned toothily.
"This is the real test," Les stated. Jean hesitated; Les was rarely one to spin a lie, except to cops and the like.
"Betcha she won't go in, Les," Spades smirked. "Betcha she's chikkin. Betcha a fiver." That was the clincher.

"I'll make my own bet with you, Spades," Jean hissed, clenching a fist and waving it dangerously close to Spades' face. "If I pass this test, I win one o' your teeth."
With that, she turned to her target: the supposedly haunted house of Belmont Crescent. According to the boys, if she stayed in the creepy old mansion for at least ten minutes, she'd be fully inducted into the Buffalo Gang, which (she hoped) would be the end of being pushed around and taunted by the other members. She took a deep breath and began making her way to the front door.

Jean didn't believe in ghosts and the like, of course. That was stupid. But these abandoned houses were known to make good homes for all kinds of bugs, snakes and other creatures, and while Jean wasn't afraid of these either, she quite naturally held a certain respect for those that could kill a person. It was for this reason that she proceeded with some trepidation. Mustering up her courage, she yanked the nailed-on plank of wood labelled "ABANDONED" off the front door and turned the handle.

It was everything she had expected, and worse. The only light was what was left of the day shining in at odd angles through the windows. With every step she took the sound of tiny feet skittering about on the floor gave away the creepy things that were running about down there. She steeled herself and ignored it. If she could find a room devoid of living things, she could wait out her ten minutes more easily. Deciding on this, she pushed open the first door she saw, and was mildly surprised at what awaited her.

It was a dining hall that clearly had not been used for decades, like the rest of the house. The surprise was the candelabra sitting on the long table in the centre of the room. It was lit, and burning fiercely. There was no way those flames could have lasted for that long. Someone must be in here.
"Hello?" Jean ventured. "Who's in here?"
"Just me," said the candelabra, turning towards her to reveal a face on its other side.
"Sweet heck!" Jean shouted, and grabbed the nearest thing she could: a breadboard off the table. The candelabra shrieked and fell backwards, igniting the tablecloth.
"Nyah! Look what you made me do!" the candelabra stuttered, trying to blow out the burning fabric. Jean was too startled to react, but before the fire could spread too far a voice called out, "Poison Breath!"
A purple mist fell onto the fire, quenching it, and after a few seconds dissipated. A group of ghosts - there was no other way to describe them, they definitely looked the part - had appeared from the ceiling and descended slowly to where Jean and the candle-monster-thing were.

"Intruuuders!" they hissed in a typical ghostly wail.
"Friends o' yours?" Jean muttered to the candle, who shook its head. It had slid behind Jean as soon as the ghosts had appeared.
"They're Bakemon!" it said. "I should have expected to find some here, but I - I had other things on my mind..."
"Zombie Claw!" shouted the Bakemon nearest to Jean. A black arm extended from its body and shot towards her. She blocked it with the breadboard she had picked up and struck the Bakemon in the face. It reeled backwards in pain. The other Bakemon advanced.

"Little help?" Jean said indignantly to the cowering candle. It hesitated for a moment, then -
"Flame Bomber!" A fireball shot from the flame on its head and hit one of the other Bakemon, exploding on contact. The Bakemon howled as it disintegrated right before their eyes. Jean's eyes lit up.
"Geez, if y' can do that, what the hell were y' so afraid of?"
"I guess these are weaker than the ones I'm used to!" the candle responded before firing another burst of flame with a cry of "Flame Bomber!" Jean followed suit by striking another blow at yet another Bakemon. It didn't take them long to dispose of all the ghosts. As the last one was vanishing, the candle stood still. The vapour, or pieces, or whatever the Bakemon had exploded into were being sucked towards it, and it absorbed as many as it could.
"What're y' doin'?" Jean said, peering at the candle.
"Downloading their data," it replied. "It'll make me stronger."

The two decided to find their way out of the house together; it was well past ten minutes, and assuming the guys had been truthful, Jean was a shoe-in for the Buffalo Gang. Along the way she learned that her new buddy's name was Candlemon and that he was a Digital Monster from a place called Torrent City. He also explained that he had been locked up unjustly - though he seemed a little shifty when he had said the word "unjustly".

"Oi, Simmons!" Spades' voice called from the dark street. "Yuh've been in there for nearly half 'n hour! What the hell were yuh doin' in there? Runnin' from spooks?"
"Nah," Jean shouted back. "No such thing as spooks, y' moron. Ain't nothin' creepy 'bout that place."
Spades and Les looked at one another, then Les turned to Jean. "In any case, you've passed the in... the test. You're now a true memb-"
"Paraffin Paralyser!" All of a sudden, Spades was pinned to the ground by huge globs of wax. Candlemon was no longer hidden behind Jean, and the sight of him and Spades' incarceration had rendered Les speechless. He stumbled backwards and ran off. Spades started screeching, but Jean and Candlemon were on their way down the street by then, laughing.

"Who needs the Buffalo Gang?" Jean smirked as Candlemon grinned up at her. "You 'n' me are way stronger, and y' ain't half as annoyin' as Spades. I think this is the start of... a bountiful friendship."

Zoey Tennat

Zoey’s fists hurt. Her fingers were digging into her palm, leaving red crescents dug into her flesh. Beside her, Veemon was strangely quiet. How could they have let this happen, on their watch? Four convicts, loose, wrecking havoc. They passed the knightmon as a group, all rushing towards the room the alarms were shouting them towards. If they could catch them in time, she might save some of her tattered pride...

The sounds of shouting coming from the generator room lifted her heart. They were still there. Her eyes slid sideways, meeting those of her partner, and she grinned a little nervously. Nothing like this had happened before, there had been stories, sure, but nothing on her watch. This was no time to panic, though she could feel her mouth drying more by the moment, her adrenaline pumping around her body, and her thoughts were buzzing. Veemon grinned back re-assuredly, keeping pace with the group easily.

“I think I can hear them...” muttered Rio, then called louder, “come on, guys. Keep going.”
Em snorted, running surprisingly well in her heels. “If you two hadn’t been messing around-”
“Oh shut up and keep running, Emanuelle.” Zoey spat, putting in a little extra, her next few strides pulling her out in front.

If Em was going to bother replying, Zoey would never find out- all talking was ceased by a loud, familiar sound, accompanied by a flickering of lights. It died down again, and the lights became their usual steady glow. The generator wasn’t running, yet. But it was close. Zoey’s stomach dropped through the floor, a dull horror reaching up to take hold of her lungs.

“Shit.”

Zoey wasn’t sure who said it, but she agreed entirely. As a group they raced harder, attempting against hope to find the escaped digimon somehow prevented from escape. The to the room was large, heavy, and of course, closed.Joe got the door first, and tugged at the handle. “I can’t get it open, Rio.”
“Bust it off of its hinges!” Zoey panted, hissing through her teeth as she caught her breath. Veemon threw himself at the door, hitting the metal with a dull thud.

“Shiiiit.”

Zoey stared at the heavy metal door. It didn’t seem to want to move. On the other side, her prisoners were, without a doubt, getting closer to escaping. Veemon struggled with the door, grunting with effort, and Zoey wished she could help. Instead she turned to look at the others, not even being able to snicker at Em’s face of discomfort as she took the moment to adjust one of her shoes.

“Well.” She gestured towards the welded door, and by proxy, the digimon escaping by the portal behind it. “What now?”
Rio didn’t answer but gestured for Augumon to help, and together, the blue digimon and the little yellow dinosaur threw themselves against the door. On the third hit, the door slammed open and agumon flew through, Veemon overbalancing and landing on his face.

“Owwwshit.”

Zoey bent to pick up her partner, Rio, Em and Joe running past them. Veemon got back to his feet and rubbed his jaw sheepishly, and shoved the concerned Zoey through the open door. The sight that greeted her was not one she had wanted to see.

On the floor was Augumon, still recovering from being diamond stormed in the face. Standing around the room was the rest of her team, and they were all focused on the recently opened and recently used portal. The convicts had escaped.

Zoey stared into the glowing depths, trying to figure out what they should do. Her gaze slid from face to face, trying to gauge what would happen next. Joe looked frustrated, and Em looked downright pained, but it was Rio's stubborn expression that answered her question. She cleared her throat, looking pointedly at the trainer. "We're going after them, aren't we?"

"Yes. We have to." Rio's voice was firm.

"But shouldn't we wait for someone to give us the orders?" Joe asked. Zoey's eyebrows furrowed. Was that actual worry tinting the layers of sarcasm that was Joe's voice?

"They are our responsibility. We let them escape, we have to bring them to justice, and the longer we stand here waiting, the further they get away."

Joe sighed and Em scowled. "I really wished I had packed my other shoes."

Zoey smirked. "You can borrow some of mine?" Em looked disgusted and turned towards the portal, putting her back to the slightly taller girl.
"Are we going or what?" Em's tone was suddenly impatient. Veemon broke the tension, letting out a bark of laughter before smothering it with his hand. Zoey tried hard to hide a smirk and put her serious business face on. This was no time for jokes, even if they were aimed at Em. Rio motioned for them to go first, and Zoey stepped forward, Veemon at her side.

Inside the portal was disorienting, bright, but thankfully it was short. Zoey had never particularly liked portals, and avoided them when she can, and her stomach was doing flipflops from being so suddenly displaced. And just like that, Zoey was standing in another world. She blinked against the analog sun. It was too bright here.

Cyril
Walking home from the library was supposed to be a simple affair. Not a pleasant one, not when it involved leaving the honest hush of paper and creased leather-bound covers for the cold comfort of his tiny apartment, but straightforward enough. Don't get run over by reckless drivers, don't get distracted by the shiny bookstore, don't get lost in your thoughts and walk into a post.

Don't go investigate the strange flashing electric light stammering through the obscure, cracked windows of the old dusty shop that's languidly decaying in a vaguely disreputable part of town for as long as you've known it. Seriously, don't.

Of course, it was the moment he was going to override curiosity with caution that shattered bits of a voice made it through, with something that sounded like a mixture of whining and "help?", followed by a clatter of metal on metal and other such grating sounds that made it sound like maybe some elephant or extremely clumsy person was trampling around.

Cyril stopped, and weighed the pros and cons of going in to investigate.

Cons: Didn't know what was going on. Could be dangerous. Suspicious activity and all. Possible prank. Was he ready to deal with the crap that might happen? Not sure.

Pros: In no hurry to get home. Sating his curiosity. Didn't sound like a trap--and he couldn't think of a reason why someone would waste time trying to trap the place when no one really ever paid it much attention... Good karma?

The pros slightly outweighed the cons. As long as he didn't go rushing in, which wasn't happening anyway.

Another flash of light danced through the glass, weaker than before, and Cyril set his hand on the doorknob, gave it a careful turn, and pushed. It resisted a bit, the door dragging against the floor loudly enough to make him wince, and for whoever was there to stop doing whatever it was that was making so much noise.

"Hey, over here!"

Cyril blinked, cautiously looked at the dusty, damp place, and moved towards the voice, ignoring the stairs that lead to some black upstairs. Phone in back pocket, easy to reach if something bad happens. Okay.

"What's with the lightshow?" he called, as white light arched from a doorway to the side and refracted into dust-covered glasses still haphazardly lying over a low table.

"Er. Not doing it on purpose. Just got a little tangled, and--" a low groaning sound, like something very heavy being pulled over the ground "--whooops."

He followed the voice again, and it wasn't long before he reached the room. Light filtered from outside, dirtied by the years of neglect that clung to the glass, and bathed the room in some shaky chiaroscuro, revealing gaping wooden and metal frames, like skeletons of a city in ruins or the gaping jaws of some ancient, derelict machine.

And in the darkness something shifted, from a tangle of cables and wires that Cyril didn't think had any business doing there. So that was what the problem was. He approached, kicking away bits of scrap metal, tools and wires coiled like snakes to the side, eyes squinting in an attempt to discern more than faint shapes. "You injured?"

"Nah, just scratches. Kinda stuck though." Another rasp of wire on wires, as though to emphasize the point.

Needed light. He reached for his phone, when he was preempted by another burst of lightning. Coming from the heap of wires before him.

Electricity danced along the ground, and revealed a. Blue-and-red hedgehog cat... thing.

Which blinked bright blue eyes up at him, and grinned sheepishly. “Mind giving me a hand?”

Lemme guess, someone's going to jump out of some closet with a camera and "SURPRISE!" in two minutes. There was a creak behind him, and he turned, sneer at the ready. Only to stare as an innocent-looking piece of cheese bounced down the stairs and came to a rest on the dirty floorboard.

C'est quoi c'te conner-- "Step back!" came the urgent call from behind, and, completely blindsided, he obeyed. And jumped when a small, yet rather strong, explosion rocked the stairs, sending splinters flying. "Exploding cheese. Now I've seen everything."

Wires creaked against metal. Somewhere in the house footsteps echoed, along with a low whispering sound. "Chuumon," came the grumble, and Cyril turned. "What?"

"Get me outta here. There's a Chuumon in the place, and I don't want to see if it's a nice one or not."

"You lost me at 'Chuumon'. What the hell is that? And what the hell are you?"

A growl, and a snap of teeth, which would probably have looked more threatening if it hadn't still been as trapped as it was. "The name's Elecmon, if you really gotta know. Can we talk after we're both somewhere away from we won't risk getting blown up?" As if on cue the whispering quieted down, and the dull thud of something soft hitting the ground a little closer than earlier sounded. And then exploded. Cyril felt heat brush like an inquisitive puppy at the back of his neck, and decided that the porcupine might have the right idea.

Five minutes of semi-frantic tugging at wires and cables later, he'd freed Elecmon, and it hopped out from the loose tangle, shaking itself like a wet dog. "Okay, let's go."

"You're welcome," Cyril grumbled, but followed, took the lead past the stairway, which Elecmon was bristling up at, eyes scanning the dark. Cyril wondered if it could see better, maybe like a cat, before shaking the thought away and going for the door. He scrunched his nose as a faint smell made its presence known, and Elecmon by him was suddenly perking its ears, tail(s?) upright and crackling with electricity.

"Should've know... Numemon. Let's go, quick!" Short fur rising at its neck when it met Cyril's very, very blank stare, it shook its head. "Exploding cheese's friend. You do not want to see what this one makes his ka-booms out of, trust me." Ohkaaaay. "Now can you get that door?"

"After you, spike." It bounced past. Behind Cyril came strange sounds, and he decided he'd probably listened to his stupid, stupid curiosity enough for the day. And ran after Elecmon, just as a bigger explosion swept the hallway.

Three turns and two streets later, he stopped only to realize he now had a brightly-colored, strange talking animal as a tagalong.

Merde.

Emanuelle Golding

Blue skies surrendered to concrete as Em crashed to the sidewalk. Fuck portals. She never wanted to go through one ever again, even if it meant leaving the official tamers behind. She let out a few colorful words under her breath, cursing and blaspheming.

"Em, they're leaving us," Dorumon said, quietly helping her up.

He was right, she knew he was. She didn't hear Joe's whining or Rio's impatience or spot any filthy sneakers nearby. She pushed herself off the ground and wrinkled her nose at the dirt on her clothes. She wasn't going to touch any of that. Never knew what was there. Could be some hobo's shit.

"The next time Rio and Joe decide to have a digibattle, I'm going to rip both off their heads off. With my bare hands," Em seethed, taking a few steps. Step, step, step - pause. Step, step - pause. Screw it.

A ragtag woman dressed in a patched dress dozed nearby, peacefully and blissfully unaware of what she'd just missed. Em yanked her stilettos off and tucked them beside the woman. Em would run faster without them anyway. Besides, her outfit already looked like shit. What did she have to lose? She was still way hotter than most of the girls traipsing down the street anyway.

"Which way did they go?"

Dorumon nodded his head at a deserted alley in front of them, and tilted his head to the right. "That way."

Em snorted. Good lot that would do them. Taking detours. It had been years since Em had last been here, but damn if she didn't remember her own home. "I know a way around it. This way." She'd cut through this club, and meet them on the other side. Another deserted road. Em was sure they'd be there anyway.

There was no fucking way Rio would ever be careless enough to let these normals see digimon. He wouldn't. Much as he looked like a rogue, the guy was pretty uptight when it came about the rules. Kind of anal, actually. Em wouldn't be surprised if one day he went to the doctor and the doctor had to pull some dead insect out of Rio's ass.

But enough about Rio's ass. Em struggled to open a door caked in mud and dirt and God only knew what else, revealing a rather dingy kitchen with soy-sauce splattered porcelain floor. Em's lips twitched. Never changed. She ignored the chef checking out her ass (really, she didn't blame him - who wouldn't?), though she did smile when she heard him say some choice words when he saw Dorumon.

"Em, are you sure this is a bright idea?" Dorumon asked, hurrying up to catch up to his tamer.

Em shrugged it off. "If Rio didn't want people seeing shit, he should've checked to see if I was off the floor. Hell, he should have helped me off the floor, the jerk."

She pushed past double doors, and for a moment she paused, her eyes scanning the dimly-lit place. Tacky Chinese lanterns hung here and there, and it seemed as if some blood fetishist had quite a bit of fun with the walls. The girl behind the counter stared at Em in shock, and began to stutter out what Em figured was the beginning of a polite way of saying "Where the hell did you come from?" Still, Em couldn't care less. Three inattentive tamers were going to pass by the front door of the store very soon, if Em had guessed right. Rio would want to pass deserted streets to avoid any non-tamer seeing them, and they'd have to pass this way to avoid people. So she waved away the other girl and slid over the counter, not at all minding how ruffled her skirt got in the process.

Let the boys stare all they want. They weren't going to do jackshit.

And then she spied a boy her age, standing there, staring at her, then at Dorumon. Well, well. What did she have here? She'd spotted the way he'd been looking at her appreciatively (or so she assumed), and slunk up towards him.

"Hey."

He said nothing, only raising an eyebrow and never taking his eyes off Dorumon.

"He's not going to bite you. Look at me." She reached out and waved her hand in front of his face until he turned to face her. Much better. "Have you seen other monsters like those? You don't seem as surprised as I thought you'd be."

The brown-eyed blond in front of her barked out a laugh. "What? Take a look at everyone in this place."

Em met the stares of a handful of other people, none of them too young or brilliant. Most of them looked as if they needed to be shoved into an early grave. Even looking at them made her skin crawl. Some of them eyed her hungrily, while others looked higher than the fucking sky.

Em smiled, tight-lipped and not all that happy, but getting the joke. Haha. "Nice, but I'm being serious -" Oh? Em spotted familiar ugly sneakers race past the front door of the shop, and on that note, she had to leave. What a shame. She couldn't spend more time with the little smartass over here.

She took another step forward and cringed when her feet touched cold soup on the floor. Fuck. "I need a shower."

"Like people need to breathe," the kid muttered.

Em glared at him and contemplated possibly kicking the side of his head, but honestly? The jackass might just keep his eyes wide open for the chance to perv out. So instead she let out this a low growl and left, bursting out the door of the dingy takeout place, timing it so she'd hit the next person to come running by.

Please let it be Rio.

"OWWW."

Damn. She hit Joe. Oh well. "Oops." Em shrugged and smiled at him sweetly.

"That hurt!"

"Don't be such a goddamned wimp, Joe. Let's go." And she chased after the trailer trash, not really caring where they were going. Rio probably figured out something by this time, and judging at the rate they were going, Rio was pretty damn sure he knew where those monsters were.

Tommy Bronson

Tommy walked down the street. He had one hand in his pocket and a takeaway Chinese container in the other. The leaves rustled in a sudden burst of wind and he looked up. "Crap," he muttered when the sun's rays hit him in the face. "The hell are my sunglasses?"

He sped up and soon came to his flat. The door was open, but he couldn't hear anyone playing Black Ops inside. "Hey Brian?" he yelled, walking in the door. "Bro? You home?" There was no answer. Tommy shrugged and walked towards his room. The two of them owned close to nothing, although no visitors would make that conclusion from the never-ending piles of rubbish that populated the house.

He could hear noises on the other side of his closed door. It sounded like a small whooping animal. He pushed it open and paused. Some kind of giant purple rat was spinning around on his computer chair and cackling to itself. Tommy saw that it was wearing his glasses. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the rat was still there. "What - just what the hell even is this?" he said.

The creature stopped laughing. It tried to stop the chair, but it was spinning too fast. Eventually it leaped from it and onto the floor in front of Tommy, making a growling sound. "Intimidated, punk?"

"You are a giant purple rat. Wearing my glasses. Which make you look ridiculous, by the way. They're too big for you." He leaned down and plucked the glasses from the thing's face. It jumped once or twice, trying to reach them, but it was too short.

"You don't know who you're dealing with, buster."

"Uh huh. I've already seen something else today that makes me suspect I'm either having a drug-induced hallucination, or I've had some kind of psychotic break. So for now, I'm going to assume that this isn't really happening. Since I'm bored, though, how about you sit down and explain to me who I'm dealing with. You hungry?" Tommy opened the container and leaned down to waft it under the creature's nose. He paused. "Can monsters eat our food?"

"Cool it. I'm not a monster. And I don't know what your scummy food'd do to my insides. Let's give it a try, though, since I'm not telling you anything without getting something in return. I want those glasses more, though. You gimme those and I'll tell you anything you needa know." Impmon grinned at Tommy and the boy noticed his sharp teeth.

"I'll get you a fork. Stay here. If Brian comes back and sees you, he'll probably take it upon himself to kill you. And something tells me that would ruin my amusement for the day."

"Yeah, yeah. You're taking this good for a human. I thought you might, uh, freak out or something. I was hopin', anyhow."

Tommy left the room and went to the kitchen. He rummaged through the drawers, trying to find a clean fork without any success. He grabbed one from the sink and washed it off. When he returned, the creature was staring at the steam rising from the food. "What is this stuff?"

"Chinese. Beef and vegetables on noodles. Try some," he said, holding the fork out. "What's your name?"

"Impmon."

"I'm Tommy." Impmon took the fork from him and stared at it for a couple of seconds before stabbing it into the container, pulling out hunks of meat and eating them. His eyes lit up and he began to dig through the food, looking for more meat.

"Ease up! Leave me some," Tommy said, sitting down opposite Impmon and beginning to eat. The two of them polished off the meal in minutes, and when it was over, they looked up, satisfied. Tommy burped and Impmon let out a cackle.

"I think I like you. You're all right, for a human."

"For a human, for a human. I get it. You don't like people. So why're you here?"

Impmon gave his little grin again. "I'm an escaped fugitive. You could be in a lot of trouble for harbouring me."

Tommy laughed. "Harbouring you? I could just tell them that you broke in. Which you did, by the way. If you were a person, I'd call the cops. Since you're just a rat, though, I think they'd lock me up too."

"Who you callin' a rat?" Impmon yelled, jumping to his feet. He snapped his fingers and a small ball of flame appeared. "Careful how you talk to me, kid. I could have this whole place down around your ears in no time."

"You started it! It sounds like you're threatening me for helping you out. Which is just ungrateful. How you planning on getting any more Chinese without me?"

The flame extinguished itself. "Yeah. Yeah. I can go with this. Could be fun. Let's make a deal. We'll be friends. Partners. You keep it a secret if anyone comes lookin' for me. You give me those glasses of yours. And we eat more. A lot more."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "And what do I get out of it?"

"My brilliant company. And the benefit of knowin' I'm here to protect you, kid."

"From the trouble that you're going to bring to my doorstep?"

"Something like that."

"We'll make a deal when you can show me what I can get out of this. But hey. Out of all the idiotic things I could waste my time doing, talking to you looks like the most interesting."

There was a knock at the door and Impmon's eyes widened. Tommy groaned. "Already?"