Hello people! So I know I promised you guys a new puzzleshipping story momths ago. Sorry it's taken so long! The reason why is simple: I got too many stroies in my head. I already have at least five chapters written of three other puzzleshipping story ideas in my notebooks. I decided to just put the names of the stories in a hat and picked one. This is the one fate chose. For those of you unfamiliar with the inspiration of the story this is primarily based off the movie " I Know Who Killed Me." But I will be adding different elements to the story to make it both interesting and stand on it's own in a way. So here's hoping you like it and enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or I know Who Killed Me. Let's get started!
Prologue- Bloody Brilliance
Amber. Silver. Red. Black. Nightime colors all too common to his eyes. Anticipation. Want. Need. Lust. Joy. Fascination. He knew them all too well. The patrons of the Bara No Yakan ( The Night Rose) strip club always looked the same to him merging in to one group face. All he needed to do to persuade them to give up the green paper in their wallets was dance. Dance in a way no other ordinary person could. Dance with sexual promise as his partner. Dance with the devil and flirt with one's desire to entice and invite. Then when the dancing was done, fulfill that promise to the highest bidder. And any regular at the Bara No Yakan could tell you here and now that he certainly knew how to fulfill every promise he made.
He parted the red velvet curtains draped in sparkly red beads, their shine catching the lights from the stage. With all the swagger and grace of a jungle cat he walked out on to the stage and grasped the metal pole in his hand. The white lights hit his face revealing him to the crowd. His hair was wildly spiked skywards, the ends tipped in red. Golden blonde streaks ran though his hair, then fell down in sharp jagged lines down his perfectly angled face. Hard crimson eyes stared out at the crowd taking in everything without really seeing anything. Pale smooth skin stretched over a body men would kill for and women wanted to posess. Lean defined muscles rippled through his flesh, the sight tantalizing the eyes pleasantly. Simply put, this young man was sinfully beautiful. He knew that. But more often than not he found himself hating it. But that wasn't allowed to change. Not if he wanted the money his body gave to profit. Tonight he adorned his body expertly. Dressed to kill.
On his hands were elbow length black cloth gloves torn and ripped along his arms held together almost in vain by small linked chains. His torso was cothed in a black leather vest with a single zipper down the front. On his legs riding dangerously low on his hips were shiny black leather pants, so tight they might have been painted on to his body leaving very little to the imagination. Black buckled boots finished his outfit off splendidly. By their eyes alone he could already tell they loved him and he hadn't even started yet. By the time he was done they would worship him. If the pain didn't get in the way first. All day today it had hindered and angered him. Even the simplest of movements made him want to scream. No. This was a game between him and his pain and there were no doubts allowed. Just dance. Four minutes of eye-pleasing service and then he could scream more. The lights dimmed to a sinful shade of red and the heavy rock music began blaring through the speakers, the disco ball overhead caught the lights casting blocks of red and white everywhere. Game start.
He schooled his features to become soft and tense all at once as if just the first notes of the music had turned him on. He held on to the pole as he slid his back down it's length, then slowly came back up again. He turned then grapsed the pole with both hands and ground his hips up and down against the metal. He heard a whistle. So far so good. He came around the pole still holding on with one hand as he slowly ran his fingers through his hair with the other, shooting a sultry look at the crowd. He leaned forward and rolled his shoulders then rolled his body back and shifted his hips from side to side to the beat as he tossed his head back and forth like a wild mustang. Now for the hard part. Grittting his teeth behind closed lips he faced the pole then reached up above his head and grasped the pole with both hands tightly. Pain. He breathed deeply then with a jump lifted his body up and held it in a perfectly straight line in the air.
He held this pose for several seconds the pain turning one of his most popular dance moves in to an excellent form of tourture. He arched his back away from the pole then let his hands slide his body back down. The music was loud. He used that to his advantage. No one heard the scream in his throat as he gave in to the pain. Already he was losing the game. But not his audience. He was panting through his nose now but the sultry, seductive look never left his face. He narrowed his eyes at the crowd as he held one hand above himself on the dancing pole. With his other hand he reached up for the zipper of his vest then pulled down. Hard, toned abs glistening with perspiration greeted the audience who looked on with shameless wonder. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he slid down the pole again. The crowd's cat calls and cheers told him he was doing just fine.
The blood coating his hand and running in thick rivers down the shiny metal said otherwise.
Done! So how did you like the stripping? ( Waggles eyebrows.) Merry christmas Yami/Atemu fans! Please R&R and happy holidays!
