Disclaimer: Morgain doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh, she just cloned some of the characters to use them in a new story. Morgain doesn't make any money out of this story, in fact she's just a poor student. Morgain doesn't mean to copy any already existing story on this website, if she did so by accident, please tell her so that she can punish the responsible plot bunnies.

Ryou: "So, let me get this straight. You wrote this during Christmas night?"
Morgain: "Well, yeah..."
Ryou: "Morgain, most people try to be happy that time of the year... And I know you, once you start writing, you're not happy..."
Morgain: "Well, maybe you're right... Poor Ryou, I managed to let you down again."
Ryou: "What? This story is about me?!" panic
Morgain: "Well, actually, it is. I think I'm going to take cover before you..." starts running
Ryou: starts running after Morgain "You promised you would be nice to me!"
Morgain: keeps running "Looks like I failed... See you at the end."

You stare at him, but your eyes will not open. You never saw who he really is. Oh well, all in good time, someday you will see. But not now. All the things he does, you'll just ignore them. Maybe you know what's going on, somewhere deep, deep down you may know. But even if you do, you do not want to see. You are blinded and you do not wish to be enlightened.

At times he will come home with blood on his hands, or a cut across his cheek. You will not ask. You will help him clean himself up. Both of you, quiet, not speaking. You tell yourself you do not care, that it is nothing. That he is all right the way he is. If he can live with himself, why wouldn't you be able to accept him?

Sometimes you wonder what you are to him. Maybe you are just his slave, his servant who will fetch and carry for him while he is away, doing things he thinks are important. In the meanwhile you are neglected. You will forget to eat or sleep, you will just wait inpatient 'till he gets home. And when he comes you hope for a smile or a compliment. Most of the time idle hopes.

He ignores you right now. His eyes are cold and even though you are staring at each other you know he does not see you like you see him. He will not remember you have been looking at each other like this once he goes on with his daily routine. You do not want to think about what that routine is. You want to hold him captive with your eyes, right at this spot. Making him unable to do all those terrible things.

You will not succeed, you know that before you even try it. He looks away and you feel despair. You try to fight the memories of what he might do once he leaves this room. But you lose the battle and the memories come rushing in. The blood, the dead bodies. The blood on your hands.

You look at your hands. They are red. A red liquid drips from your hands unto the floor. You call out his name and he turns around. You lift your hands and give him a confused look. The liquid is on his hand too. And on his cloths. You look down your body and you find that your cloths are soaked as well.

You try to remember what happened, but all of a sudden your head is full of fog and you couldn't possibly tell if the images shown by your minds eye where yesterday, or the day before or just imagination. Your knees go weak and you can see the floor coming closer. You are falling in slow motion. He walks back at you and catches you before you reach the ground.

His skin is soft against yours, but the blood that is everywhere around the two of you scares you. You want to ask what happened, but your mouth refuses to obey you. Therefore you keep quiet and allow him to carry you to the bathroom.

He washes your hands and you can see the red washing away until the last bit has gone down the drain. He helps you take off your cloth and puts white pyjamas on you. You feel like the colour does not suit you any more, but you don't dare to protest, scared of what he might do.

He carries you to your room and puts you into bed. Everything is white and you do not understand. Where have all the colours gone? You do no longer recognise your own room, yet, it isn't unpleasant. He returns in clean cloths and without the blood all over him he looks almost normal. His eyes even look caring. But only for a split second before they turn cold again.

Your mind is still clouded and you don't want to know anything you did. You just want this emptiness to continue. You want him to take care of you. Wasn't that the way it should have been? His task. To be at your side, to care for you. Instead you found disappointment. He was never there for you. Nobody was ever there for you.

You learned to obey. You learned to take it all. The pain, the torture, everything he did behind your back. You didn't want to know and created the image of a god. Now that image is fading and you can see the devil. The devil you still care for.

You try to sort out your feelings. What is he? A friend? No. A crush? Not in the least. What do you want from him? The answer is hidden between your childhood wishes for your mother and your sister to return and a white Christmas. You want him to care, you want kindness. You want him to protect you.

Why does he have to be always away? Why does he do those things? You can't help but feel sorry for him. He can't have been born this way. He must have been made the way he is. What brings the circle back at you. What are you?

You try to ask, but he presses a finger against his lips and you hold your tongue. You finally realise that you are in fact scared of him. And who wouldn't be? Even now, as he sits by your bedside and tries to keep you calm, you can feel the shadow he is casting over you.

Where did the blood come from. You go back into your memories and you remember looking down on a body on the floor. Who's body? Was it dead? You can't remember. And whatever you say, he won't answer. You start to cry and he tells you to safe your breath. He can't bear you as a burden. If you fall completely ill he won't help you. And so you shut up again.

Finally you fall asleep. When he returns his cloths are red again, and you panic. You ask him what he has done and he tells you he had to clean up the mess you made. Once again you start wondering what it is you have done. You spent hours staring at your hands. And the days go by, in you white room, where you sit in you white cloths with your white skin and your white hair. And in your nightmares every inch of white goes red and a voice keeps shouting, what have you done?

The uncertainty is killing you. You can feel it slowly spreading. From your head to you toes, every part of you is soaked with fear, guild, sorrow. You want to apologise but you don't know why and you don't know to whom. When you tell him he says it is nothing to worry about. But you know that if you forget, you will forget everything. Who you are, what you have to do, how to live.

You're dying. You don't want to eat, you just aren't hungry. You barely sleep anymore, afraid of the nightmares. Every moment you spent unconscious you're in a basin of blood, drowning. Your screams go unnoticed, but just before you die you snap out of the dream that leaves you shaking.

He keeps attending you even though you don't know why and you don't dare ask him. You feel like being in hospital by now. He treats you like you're ill and you're not allowed to leave your room. Nothing tells you he is trying to slowly kill you, you're still blinded.

Until you begin to understand his game. The blood, the strange laughter during the nights you spent sleepless in your bed. Lying wide awake with wide opened eyes, listening to the strange sounds coming from downstairs. And with the understanding of what he is, the realisation of what you are comes crushing in.

The next morning he walks in to find you staring at your hands once more. "Did you make a murderer out of me, Bakura?" And the bone chilling laugh fills your blood red room.

Ryou: "I didn't kill anyone!"
Morgain: "Ok, ok, you didn't, but this clone I made of you did..."
Ryou: "Alright, I'll allow it, just this once."
Morgain: "Thank you!" hugs Ryou
Ryou: "He! I didn't say I like it!"
Morgain: "I hope some other people did though..."