A/n: Uh, first of all, this isn't the first story I've written, I've written a few others before but not on this account. This is most definitely my first Yu-Gi-Oh! story so if there are any mix ups that need sorting, please let me know. It's been awhile since I watched the anime, I've read a bit of the manga over my holiday break and hopefully it's enough to jog my memory of certain events and whatever.
This will be rated M for violence and language (and maybe some other stuff later).
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!
Chapter 1 The Nightmare
The night was cold and endless.
Alone and confused, he had been walking tirelessly for hours before exhaustion had finally caught up with him. He lifted his head up, his deep brown eyes gazing up at the cloudless sky, noticing the unusually large moon, its bright light shining over his long, white hair. Closing his eyes, he drew in a long breath. The air surrounding him was cool in the absence of any wind or breeze, though it did little to comfort him.
He continued on the rocky path ahead of him, walking on with no sense of where he was going and passing by several large buildings with broken windows that glared at him as he walked by. The buildings were weak, fragile and cracked, no longer able to stand on their own. Most of them seemed like they would crumble to the ground at any second. Not that he cared. He walked slowly, dragging his feet along as if he had no purpose. How much longer? He kicked at a few small stones. The streets were littered with debris and rubble from the old buildings left to decay. As he continued on, the buildings fell, one by one, until only one remained. It stood menacingly ahead of him.
The white-haired boy finally stopped in front of what appeared to be a rust-colored, metal door. He felt a change in the air as it suddenly grew colder, as if all life had stopped and the light had gone from this world. He shivered involuntarily as his trembling hands reached for the cool handle.
Slowly and cautiously, he pushed the door open, its rusty hinges causing it to squeak as moonlight gradually crept in. On the other side was nothing but a cold and eternal darkness that sent chills down his spine. Against his better judgment, he took a few steps forward and entered the blackness. He ran his hand up against the rough wall, searching for some sort of light switch but could not find any.
Then, he heard it. Footsteps.
He decided to follow the sound. Further into the darkness, he walked, pausing in his steps as he looked behind him. The door was no longer within sight. No turning back now. The only way was forward.
As he moved deeper and deeper into the blackness, the sound of the footsteps stopped. Now aware of the deafening silence, the boy too stopped, his legs now frozen in place. Straining his ears, he listened, but the only sound was that of his own heartbeat. After what seemed like an eternity, the footsteps continued, accompanied by a hideous laugh, one full of malice and cruelty. And as suddenly as it had started, the laughing ceased.
He was startled when he heard a voice, one that he never wanted to hear again.
"Hello, Host." The dark voice cut through the darkness like a jagged knife.
Ryou gasped, cold air quickly filling his lungs as he turned on his feet and ran. The dark voice laughed, the cruel sound of it surrounding him, coming at him in all directions. Faster. Run. His legs picked up the pace, unsure of where they were taking him.
'He's not too far behind.'
He could feel his heart thumping loudly within his chest, so loud, he was sure it was the sound of drums.
"Help me!" he called out.
No reply.
The darkness laughed at him.
"Please. Help me." His voice became a whisper.
So weak…
Ryou didn't stop. He didn't look back. As he ran, he tripped and fell hard to the ground. Groaning from the sudden impact of the fall, he felt something warm and wet beneath his hands. As he opened his eyes, he screamed and forced himself off the ground and onto his feet. Shakily, he stared at his hands, trying to swallow the lump that had crawled up into his throat. His hands were red, covered in what he knew to be blood. He scanned the area as pools of the red liquid surrounded him.
'No.'
His breathing stopped when he saw them lying there, his friends, bathed in large pools of their own blood. Their eyes were open, but their bodies lay still, so very still as if they were just rag dolls. There was no mistaking it.
They were dead.
Horror and shock spread across his features, but were replaced by an overwhelming sadness that made his heart ache terribly. Was he to blame? Could he have prevented this?
No.
There was nothing he could do. He stared at each of their faces as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Yugi, Joey, Tristan, Anzu. I'm sorry, so, so sorry." He began to sob, his warm, wet tears making their way down his cheeks.
The darkness laughed, taking great pleasure in the boy's sorrow and anguish.
"Look at what you've done, my dear Host."
The sudden grating sound jarred Ryou as he cringed at the voice he knew all to well. He stood still, feeling his own blood rush loudly through his veins along with the fear that had taken hold of him. He dragged his eyes toward the direction of the voice and choked at the horror that stood before him. Next to the lifeless bodies stood a shadowy figure, its back facing him. As the figure turned, Ryou's eyes widened as the dim light revealed who he was.
It was like staring into a mirror, at his own reflection.
His features were hidden in the shadows, but Ryou could sense his evil smirk. The man twirled a small knife in his right hand, its silver blade stained with fresh blood. Ryou wanted to vomit, his knees shaking as they tried to support him. He felt bile rise in his throat and quickly forced it down.
After some time, Ryou spoke.
"Y-you did this," he said, his voice quivering, his breathing fast and shallow.
Then he felt it.
It was as if something was clawing at his very soul, ripping him to pieces and putting him back together just so that the process could repeat itself. He clutched his head, forcing his eyes shut as he cried out in agony. When he opened his eyes, the figure had disappeared, but the bodies still lay there, motionless, painted in large amounts of red.
With a shaky breath, Ryou slowly raised his hands up, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood-stained knife that he now clasped tightly in his right hand. He let out a gasp as the knife slipped out of his hold and dropped to the ground, the metal clank echoing endlessly in his ears as he knelt down in the large puddle of blood.
He allowed despair to course though him as death rang clear in his head.
You failed.
"No," Ryou whispered.
I've won…
"No!" Ryou awoke suddenly from the darkness of his sleep, his chest heaving as cold sweat ran down his forehead. His hand instinctively went to his chest, half-expecting to find the cold, metal object there, but much to his relief there was nothing.
He breathed deeply before swinging his legs to the side of the bed and making his way towards the bathroom. Stopping once in front of the sink, he allowed the water to run as he splashed some of the cool liquid onto his face before forcing his tired eyes to stare at himself in the mirror. His long white hair was messier than usual and his eyes looked like they had seen better days. With a long sigh, he shook his head and turned off the water. He felt drained, physically and mentally. There had been many nights, before losing his memory, when he felt a strange presence, someone who was always watching him, even in his sleep, and tonight was no different.
Making his way out of the bathroom, he crawled back into his bed and pulled the covers over him. Rest was all that he needed so he welcomed sleep to come and take over. As he felt himself drifting back to sleep, his thoughts of someone watching him slowly faded into nothingness. His chest rose and fell as sounds of light snoring filled the darkened room. It was then that a golden ring-like object materialized over his chest, emitting a faint glow of golden light. The sudden appearance of it did not stir Ryou from his slumber.
Deep within the mysterious item, the Millennium Ring, a low, velvety voice was heard.
Sleep well, Landlord.
A/n: Feed me some constructive criticism please, they are my source of energy. If you're all out, then at least let me know what you guys think. Writing just isn't my forte so it's something I wish to improve on.
