A Heavy Price
A/N: I just got this random idea… this random, twisted idea.
Constructive criticism is accepted and very much appreciated! This is rated T for TEEN due to violence, a bit of reference to alcohol, and death. People of the internet, you have been warned.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or anything else famous that people may have heard of.
Ryo sat in his living room with the lights off and the television on. He tried to concentrate on the show that was on, but it was just pointless.
How could he pretend that there wasn't anything wrong when everything was wrong?
Nothing's been right since his father brought back that evil ring from Egypt a few years back. But to talk to his father about it… that would just make things even worse.
Ryo just stayed there in his cold, dark spot on the sofa. There was no where else to go.
The white-haired boy looked up at the clock on the wall, and it read 11:30 at night when a freezing, aggressive shiver ran down his weak spine.
It could only mean one thing:
He was back.
Ryo jumped a little when he heard the front door slam open. The boy took a quick glance at his yami;
The darker half was swaying a little, and the hikari could smell a faint wave of alcohol. The rest of the night was either going to be really good or really bad. It would be good if the yami would just collapse because he was so drunk. Or he would be thinking of a new way of torture.
But Bakura still seemed to be linked to reality.
Damn it.
The yami looked over at the hikari. A twisted smile grew across his face.
"Don't think I'm too drunk to think you're not there," he laughed.
Ryo could feel his body tense up, but he wasn't sure if it was safe to show his fear.
Sometimes if he'd beg for mercy, the yami would be amused enough to let him go for the night. But he would also like it too much to stop.
As the yami walked closer and closer to his defenseless hikari, Ryo began shivering, and he bit his lip to help him hold in a scream of fright.
When Bakura was only a few feet away, Ryo's body acted on its own, and he jumped up from the sofa and bolted up the stairs. He sprinted down the hall for what seemed like a lifetime. Eventually, he found his room, and he slammed the door shut once he was inside.
Bakura shook his head and clicked his tongue. He slowly walk upstairs, either from the alcohol he had consumed or the fact that he wanted to make sure Ryo felt safe when he would come in and start putting him through hell.
Ryo just sat up against his door. Was he safe? Was Bakura going to attempt it tonight? Or was he just going into his own room?
Suddenly, the hikari could feel a strong force trying to break down his door. He quickly stood up and pressed all his weight against the door in a vain attempt to hold him back.
On the other side, Bakura was kicking harder and harder, laughing as if it was all just a silly game.
"You're starting to piss me off, Ryo," he warned. But Ryo just gulped and kept holding the door. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep on fighting forever.
But he knew his yami could.
Eventually, it became too much, and Ryo released his wooden prisoner. He tried to bolt to his closet, but he just wasn't fast enough.
His yami grabbed his long white hair, and the hikari yowled in pain as his roots were yanked.
Bakura laughed as he threw him at the bed. This was fun! He liked the game Ryo had picked out tonight!
The hikari, however, was frightened like hell, and his body was still throbbing from the first hurdle when his yami grabbed his throat. He lifted him up, and then threw him at the wall. A small shriek escaped Ryo as his back slammed into the clean white wall. He was still stunned when Bakura began to make his way over to him.
The yami smiled.
"Oh, Ryo," he grinned as he reached into his pocket, "look what I've got you." first a brown handle appeared, and then a silver knife attached to it came out to play as well.
Ryo's body tensed up again, but before he could stand up and run, the yami planted his foot into his stomach.
The hikari gagged as he felt the pressure crushing his body. He looked up as Bakura leaned into his face.
"If you're good, I might go easy on you," he hissed in Ryo's ear. The hikari swallowed. There was no where he could run away and hide now.
Bakura grinned. This was fun! He loved the look of fear and anger in Ryo's face. The yami kneeled down and held the hikari's wrist down as he made the knife dance on the boy's almost white skin.
Tears began to fall down Ryo's pale face. Why did he do this? Why did he enjoy his pain and heartache? Did he really see this all as just a game?
The red liquid from his body began staining his carpet and wall with bloody drops, each a cry from the victim. Begs for it to stop. Wishes that the attacker would just go away.
"Please stop," he begged as his right arm began to cry its own tears of crimson, "it hurts! Stop it!" But the yami didn't stop. He just looked up and smiled even more.
"Why should I? Because you told me to? What the hell do you think you can do?" he laughed.
He stopped cutting up his arm, but when Ryo breathed a silent sigh of relief, Bakura began using the knife to shred his shirt up. And before he could move, the sadist quickly began slashing up his exposed belly. Again. And again.
"You're going to kill me!" the hikari yelled.
Bakura stopped. Then he smiled as he stood up.
"True," he grinned, "and if I did that, what would I get to do every night after my drinks?" He stood up and walked out of the room. As he did, he began licking the blood-stained knife like a child with a cherry lollipop.
It made Ryo's stomach turn.
He didn't dare move until he was sure that his darker half was in his own room.
When the halls were silent again, he did his best to crawl to the under part of his bed, and he pulled out a red box with a white cross on the front. It took him awhile to work up the courage to open it, but when he did, he felt like a pirate who had just struck gold.
He pulled out white bandages, and he began wrapping them everywhere where Ryo saw red on himself.
He could see the cloths soaking up his still-running blood. He was too scared to go to bed until he was sure that his new wounds were clotted and finished crying.
He looked at his alarm clock. The entire thing had taken until 2 o' clock in the morning. But sleeping was not an option for Ryo. He would just lie there, shivering as he remembered what his yami did to him. But not just this night; it happened every night.
But why wasn't he used to it? It had been happening for quite some time now.
"Maybe I should've just let him kill me," he mumbled to himself.
He tossed and turned for the rest of the night.
Ryo sat at the kitchen table with a sharpened pencil in his hand as he stared at a few difficult Algebra-Two equations. He scratched his white head and sighed. Math was never his best subject.
He closed the brick-like text book and his black composition notebook labeled "ALGEBRA 2" in red permanent marker. He would just ask Yugi or the teacher for help tomorrow.
The white-haired boy reached into his black schoolbag and pulled out a green notebook, but as he did, he winced in pain.
He dropped the book on table and pulled up the sleeve to his school uniform. Then he unwrapped the cloths that kept him from bleeding to death. He ran his finger gently over the wound, and it stung a little, but it wasn't as bad as the night he had received them; about two weeks ago.
He wrapped the bandages back up and then reached out across the table to grab his Physics textbook, but instead of the colorful book patiently waiting for him to grab it, it slid across the polished wood on its own, eager to be opened.
At first, Ryo was very confused. How did the book do that? He looked up, and his stomach dropped down a bottomless pit.
Bakura was looking down at his small hikari with a twisted grin. Ryo swallowed as the sadistic yami reached into his back pocket.
Ryo's body shook. He didn't usually come back home without drinking! What were his plans? What was he going to do to him? Before the hikari could think, his body acted first.
Ryo quickly grabbed his pencil and pencil sharpener and threw them at Bakura before leaping out of his chair and bolting, once again, to his room, the safest place in the house. But he knew that that wasn't even safe enough to protect him from his yami.
Bakura sifted away from the writing utensil and sharpener. He watched a flash of white disappear upstairs as he grinned and shook his head. Why did he always think that his bedroom was safe? Did he think there was sometimes this invisible barrier he could paint on the walls?
"The only thing painted on these walls is blood," Bakura snickered as he took his time going up the stairs.
Ryo smashed his door shut. He was breathing heavily as he searched frantically for somewhere to hide, or at least postpone the pain. He saw the closet, and he ran inside and closed the door.
Despite the darkness, the hikari began to run his hands over everything in an attempt to find something that could help him.
Bakura walked up to the boy's wooden door. He grabbed the cold medal knob and turned it as he pushed his body forward. To his surprise, the door was not being blocked by a pale hikari with white hair. But he was in the room.
Bakura knew it. He grinned as he walked up to the closet.
"I can hear you breathing, boy," he whispered to the door. He quickly pulled the door opened.
Ryo was gripping an old medal softball bat, and his body acted on its own.
The hikari panted as his muscles forced the silver bat from his past to spill the blood of his present, changing the pages of his future forever.
Crimson stained the cream-colored carpets and painted the snowy walls as the hikari dropped his weapon next to his beaten yami.
"Well, what da'ya know," he breathed heavily, "you do bleed the same color as me."
A/N: Hey guys! Guess what? I'm not dead after all! ANGRY! I don't think this turned out the way I wanted it to… but I guess it's still kinda good. I would really like to get your opinion, please. Thanks!
