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Hey peeps, um, here it is, unedited, so it may suck. Thanks to
everyone who's stuck by my so far, and i apologize about the
length, again. Questions, comments, concerns, flames:
Joyful Girl129@aol.com
i do not own sailor moon or any brand name, song title, etc.


oh and sorry about the formatting. I still have no clue.

Part 13




<<I am nineteen years old. I am a legal adult. I can buy
cigarettes. I can buy porn. I can drive. I can vote; well, I could
vote if I was an American citizen. I can buy beer in Mexico. >>
Sailor Moon picked up her pace to a brisk speed-walk. <<So why am
I still afraid of the dark? >>
She had been wandering down the dark cavern on tiptoe, shaking
like a leaf the entire time. Occasionally, a gross-looking bug with
superfluous legs and antennae would scuttle by, sending her trotting
off on her toes as quietly and as quickly as she could. << I would
rather be back in the throne room, fighting off hordes of youma,
than be wandering in the dark in the scariest, dankest, filthiest
cavern that could or could not be one that I just ventured down ten
minutes ago! >> She nearly brushed her face against a spider
descending down from the ceiling, and she screamed.
Her voice echoed hollowly down the cavern, and she clapped
her hands against her mouth. << Damn, why did I just DO that? Why
don’t I just attach a huge, blinking blue light to my head like
that K-Store or whatever and formally announce my presence to the
entire Negaverse? >> Her concern over being discovered was not
unfounded; a few minutes later, the sound of footsteps was drawing
closer to her.
With a slight squeal, Sailor Moon scurried behind a protruding
rock, quivering with nerves and fright. Voices joined the footsteps,
and, even though she could only vaguely distinguish the words
“goddamn tunnel,” and someone humming “Enter Sandman,” it was enough
to convince her.
“You guys!” She tried to contain the volume of her enthusiastic
scream into a strained whisper as she leapt out from her hiding place
and threw her arms around the speaker.
“OW! Watch the arm!”
“Sorry!” she immediately apologized, releasing her hyperactive
hug from Kunzite and throwing her arms around Zoicite.
“Oh my God, you guys! I was SO lost after Jupiter threw me
out of the throne room, and I’ve been wandering around for just
about FOREVER, well, like ten minutes, and every time I turn a corner
I expect Metallia to be on the other end, and-“ She looked around.
“Where’s Endymion? And the others?”
Zoicite sighed. “Long story. You see, we got separated after
Nephrite disappeared-wait, back up, did you say ‘Metallia’? Who let
her out of her kennel?”
“She was moving down a tunnel, I don’t know where,” she said.
“We walked right into a dark spot and it took us into the throne room.
Beryl was there, and-“ she squirmed. “My Senshi are still in there.
They’re taking on about four hundred youma and Beryl.”
Kunzite was all ears. “Do you think you could lead us back to
that, what did you say? Dark spot?”
“Yeah, it’s like an invisible doorway.”
Zoicite whistled. “I’d bet you my left nut that that’s what
Nephrite walked right into. Endy and Jadeite, too.”
Kunzite had a one-track mind. “Take us back to the throne room.”
“Sure. I have a bone to pick with Jupiter. She has this idea
that I have to be protected from everything from baby youma to paper
cuts.” She led the way back down the tunnel.
Zoicite was smiling. “You are the Princess, hon. It is their
duty to protect you.”
“I know, but once in awhile I would like a chance to-“ Sailor
Moon stopped completely, letting Kunzite bump into her back. Her
face drained of blood until it was paper-white, including her lips,
which quivered dangerously as tears ran out of her eyes and splashed
down her ashen cheeks.
“Sailor Moon?” Kunzite asked her, shaking her slightly with
his good arm. “What’s wrong? What happened?” She didn’t respond.
“Princess?”
She remained silent, but reached up with one trembling hand
and ran her fingers over her crystal. It shimmered with white light for a
brief second, and then faded. About half of the previous color returned
to her cheeks, and she shook her head slightly and met the extremely concerned
gaze of two young men.
“You OK?” Zoicite asked gently, looking as though he would pass out
from nerves.
She wiped her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I just got a little spooked
for a second.” She forced a smile. “It’s nothing.”
“You said that right before you passed out drunk in my car last week,”
Kunzite said.
“I’m OK, I’m serious, and it’s not important, anyway. The Senshi need
our help.”
They all but ran down the corridor. “Now I know you’re lying,” Zoicite
said as he fell in step with her. “How else would you know they’re in trouble?”
In response, she suddenly collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably as she
brushed her fingers against her brooch again, setting off the same transient
glow. Zoicite picked her up off the floor and began carrying her.
“Sailor Moon.” Kunzite’s voice was so insistent that she picked her
head off of Zoicite’s shoulder and met his stare. “Tell me what happened
or I’m going to have to interrogate you, and that will just be unpleasant
for all parties. Please, tell me what happened.”
She blinked away more tears as she stared into his eyes, gray and
hard as steel nails. Her face creased into a ghost of a smile. “I’m sorry,
Kunzite, but I can’t tell you that yet. You’ll understand soon.”
“That’s bullshit. Tell me now.”
Her face fell, and Kunzite mentally berated himself for being so
harsh with her. << All I need now is a closed room with a two-way mirror
and a spotlight, and then I could rightly claim my title as the World’s
Biggest Ass. Why don’t I just beat her up and take her lunch money, too? >>
Her gentle voice snapped him out of his internal funk. “I’m not mad
at you, Kunzite. I realize that you’re just doing your job, but I’m serious
when I say I really can’t tell you. You know that if I would, I could,
but I can’t. I’m sorry.” Kunzite looked at her face and wondered why she
suddenly looked so tired.
“Wait, stop,” she ordered. “I think the dark spot’s around her
somewhere.” She slid out of Zoicite’s arms and began wandering around.
“Yes, I think it’s here.”
Zoicite’s face was a mask of fury. “Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Really, now, do you think she’s OK?” Endymion asked for the four
hundredth time in the last ten minutes. Jadeite rolled his eyes.
“She is all right, she is fine, she is unharmed, she has four
dangerous chicks looking out for her,” he replied automatically. “If you
let yourself dwell on it, you’re going to drive yourself crazy.”
“I’m already driving myself crazy,” Endymion muttered, trying not
to slip and fall on the slimy floor. Somewhere along the way, the ground
became increasingly damper until the rock was covered with a film of
moisture that was almost suicidal to walk on. He had slipped on it once
already, his feet comically shooting out in front of him as he reflexively
grabbed Jadeite and took him down, too. His ass still hurt from the
ungracious impact.
Jadeite sniffed heavily. “Smell that?”
“What, mildew? Yeah, I’ve been smelling that since we got here.”
“No, not that. It smells…gross.”
It was Endymion’s turn to roll his eyes. “Have you forgotten that
we’re in perhaps the filthiest place in the universe besides your bathroom?
It’s not like they have a cleaning service here.”
Jadeite broke protocol and punched him in the arm. “It smells
like money.”
“Money?” He briefly pondered over Jadeite’s mental state.
“You know, like how your hand smells after you handle loose
change.”
“You mean, metallic?”
“Dirty metallic.”
Endymion inhaled. “I can smell it now, too. Where’s it coming from?”
Jadeite edged himself along the wall. “Over here, I think. Hey,
come and look?”
“What?” Endymion half-stumbled, half-slid over to Jadeite.
“Look.” A few feet in front of them, the wall in effect creased
and folded into itself, forming a gap running parallel into the wall,
big enough for a human body to wiggle through. The blackness inside was
as thick as crude oil.
Jadeite stuck his head in the crack. “Hello?” His voice was muffled,
like screaming in a padded room. He backed out. “Endymion, it smells
like cigarettes in there.”
“Are you sure?” He shoved himself in front of Jadeite and deeply
inhaled. “You’re right.”
Jadeite flashed his patented “who-gives-a-shit” grin as he passed
Endymion. “Smells just like Camel Turkish Golds.”
“Six bucks a pack,” Endymion added, his own face breaking into a
smile as a tidal wave of relief flooded his body. “Who’s insane enough
to blow that much cash on cancer?”
They snaked down the narrow chasm, blinking in shock as it opened
into an enclosed room with jagged rocks lining the walls. The first thing
Endymion noticed was what appeared to be a liberal amount of red paint
splashed on the walls.
“Neph!” Jadeite shouted triumphantly, jumping over a prone body
to which he took little notice and running to his friend, who was slumped
heavily against a far wall. “Nephrite, you wasted Resident Evil! Good
for you, bro! You hurt?”
Endymion eyes were locked on the cigarette resting between two of
Nephrite fingers. All but an inch was gray ash, holding the shape of the
cylinder that it had once existed in. It had slowly burned itself out,
leaving a residue that kept its form from immobility. “Jadeite,” Endymion
whispered, holding back the sudden urge to vomit.
Jadeite shook Nephrite’s shoulder. “You OK, bro?” Nephrite entire
body shook from the momentum, and he never lifted his head up. “Nephrite,
are you hurt? Wake up.” He lifted Nephrite’s chin, flinching when he
noticed the blood staining his lips. His eyes were clamped shut; dark
purplish bruises had formed in arcs around the socket. “Nephrite! What’s
wrong? Say something, dude. Nephrite!” He shook harder, desperate now
to shake Nephrite out of his coma.