My Cain

Eyes are looking through the dark

They are sliding inside without a mark

For they were always here, sons of Hades

Even in the ancient of all ages

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN YGO! No…I do not…But this cookie up there is mine! And the short poem is mine also!

FAB: Hi! I'm back! How are you enjoying the summer? I hope everything is fine…

Summary: Set in ancient Egypt yet using Gothic style. He is a creature of darkness, a priest in the days and a monster in the nights. Kisara is a poor slave girl. And she runs away…Right into his arms. Vampire SethXKisara. OneShot.

Rating and Genre: ANGST to be sure I'm still feeling fine, and fantasy because…Well, you don't see vampires all around you everyday…The rating is T for…Irrational behavior. And some blood.

My Cain

The sun was slowly making its curved way above the trees, coloring the sharpened ends of the many pyramids and obelisks that had ornamented Egypt in its ancient days with pure gold. The lazy rays hit the Nile waters, breaking into little magical rainbows and making the water glow in bright white waves. The whole ancient world was gradually awakening: peasants were preparing the horses and the carts, slaves were walking in the direction of the Ra temple, young fellows were drawing the water out of a well and the infamous thief Bakura was walking on the curb of the river, coated in his dark cloak to hide the extra layer of golden jewels on him, and thoughtfully stared at the crocodiles lying in the shallow waters. The crocodiles were eyeing him oddly, so he decided to return to his business before they invited him to their breakfast.

Trying to get her white silky hair out of her face, Kisara had been watching the rising sun for few moments before she entered the temple. She loved the mornings, those hours of light and calm before her Masters got up to yell at her, before she had to work hard on her knees again. She was slightly tired, and her body was slightly sore from sleeping on the cold floor last night, yet she was utterly relieved to see the sun pushing the thin clouds of the early morning and settling itself in the rails of life. And she was thankful to Ra for granting her another day on this earth.

She entered the temple, walking into the praying hall. The hall was a large room without windows, lit by oil lamps, and decorated with golden statues of Ra and sometimes other gods were also presenting, eyeing the crowd with quite golden orbs.

Kneeling down, she gathered her arms to cross them on her chest when the praying hall was filled by people. The early prayer was for the slaves, and many of them were already on their knees, thanking Ra and waiting for the priest to begin the early worship ritual. Kisara looked to the front of the room, concentrating on the golden statue of Ra. He looked…Well, a little too serious for the god of sun. She was sure the statue showed him in a wrong moment. Ra had to be very forgiving, because he was so mighty and wondrous. Ra had no reason to be very angry with the people on earth, because they were no worthy to his heavenly powers. Kisara smiled lightly to the statue, bowing her body to whisper a short prayer.

When she was done, she raised her head once again to see the high priest taking his place before the statue. The priest was a tall tan-skinned man and he wore his traditional clothes (Including his cape for he just couldn't lead the ceremony without it). He had a low, soft and beautiful voice when he spoke, declaiming the prayer, watching his audience with seriousness. Kisara let his words wash over her soul, allowing his voice to fill her with inner power of purify.

Looking at him, she saw his expression was calm and quiet, he spoke softly and knowingly. And it seemed to her…She wasn't sure, and she was too modest to even think about something like this, but it still seemed to her that he was sometimes looking precisely at her, his dark blue eyes studying her face as his lips were murmuring the end of the Morning Prayer. And she felt uneasy with his glances, because she knew well (And was told many times) that no one should have any interest in her. She was a slave, a weird looking one, and the evil in her heart, the cause of her pale skin and bright hair, turned her into a mere demonic being. And her Masters said that only the prayers to Ra could maybe save her soul from the Hell awaiting her. In addition to the constant praying, she had to work hard, doing almost all the house chores. Hard working could save her soul too, her Masters said, and she was yelled at and even hit when they thought she was trying to evade her duties.

The prayer was finally over, and the slaves got up, slowly moving to the entrance. She got up also, still feeling uneasy and impure. Her legs carried her closer to the golden statue of Ra. Kneeling down again, she prayed once more she would sometime find the salvation, find the meaning of her life. After that she got up, moving towards the exit of the hall.

She stopped to admire another statue of Ra, and felt herself mumbling the sacred words even without thinking about doing so. This prayer cast warmth on her heart. She believed that if she really meant everything she said (The main theme of this prayer was the severity of punishments for not worshiping the gods), she would be granted the feeling of being worthy enough to live this day.

The thought about hurrying back to her Masters house came with a gentle hand resting on her shoulder. Kisara jerked and turned around, to her great surprise and horror she saw the high priest of the temple, and he put another hand on her other should. Bowing her head down as much as she could (She would have even sunk to the floor if his hands hadn't been holding her up) she mumbled something unintelligible, trying to hide her eyes from the blue oceans of the priest.

"Wishing for the salvation," he said. It wasn't a question, but a statement. She daren't look up at him, for she knew the truth would be written clearly into her eyes. Yes, she wished for salvation, she longed to be saved and purified. Her heart and soul were too tired to bear the shame and the disgrace that she was born to, the thought about staying an unworthy creature forever was intolerable. She felt her eyes slightly filling with tears when she remembered the harsh words her Masters had always said to her.

Ever since she was born, she was considered as a demon for her odd appearance and the strange things that had always happened around her. The fervent society pushed her away, failing every chance she had to become part of this world. Her Masters had said that she didn't even deserve a place in the underworld. For a long time she was praying, always searching for a sign she could be just like any other slave girl, looking for a hope inside her heart, a hope she would be forgiven for the sins she must have done, for all the unknown crimes she must have committed somewhere in the distant past. The high priest must have seen her black soul when she prayed, and now he was going to expel her from this temple forever. She was still looking only at the floor, studying every twist and turn in it. She wasn't expecting his next words at all.

"There's none." he explained softly, one of his hands finding her chin to raise her head, so that her teary eyes were looking at his calm blue one. And she was never prepared to the kind smile that was on his face. It never calmed her down, all it did was to scare her even more. She daren't speak to a high priest, she surely wasn't worthy enough to do such thing, yet she tried her best to remove her eyes from his, and even tried to free herself from his hands holding her on her place. "I know…" he whispered, and his voice left burning marks on her soul.

"Pl-please…" she begged silently, shaking on her place with fear and disbelief "Please, yo-your majesty…Le-let go of me…" she felt semi-relief when his hand left her shoulder. A shudder ran down her spine when he took her pale thin hand, placing a silver ankh inside of it. "Look," his voice guided her "Open your eyes…Open your soul…See the darkness…" if she was already scared, now she was simply terrified. She backed away, holding the ankh desperately.

He smiled, shining teeth gleaming in the light of the oil lamps, his smile was soothing and melting as well as threatening and disgusting. And she stood there, planted to her place, as he took the millennium Rod from his belt and silently walked away. When he bypassed her, she heard him whispering last words to her "Be careful, dear…" and he left.

Kisara stayed on her place, the things he had said running through her thoughts, pushing away every reasonable thing she was ever told. What did he mean? What darkness awaited her? And what was even more terrifying…The high priest didn't believe in the salvation. And it made all the things she had done in her life, every little prayer and bow before the gods useless just like her. And that was what made her so scared.

Few minutes later she became even more scared when she thought about the punishment awaiting her back home. Her Masters wouldn't forgive such lateness, and even though their punishments were a little less serious than the ones for not worshiping the gods, Kisara knew well that it was going to hurt. Leaving her thoughts alone, she ran out of the temple and on her way home. She didn't notice the little ankh was still grasped tightly in her hand.

When she crawled on the floor for the third hour, washing the tiles of the stable till they shone, she had plenty of time to think about what had happened back in the temple. What was the meaning of the high priest's words? How could he be so sure, so calm, so determined when he talked about the lack of salvation the future enclosed? How could a high priest say these things? Priests had to – no – they must believe salvation existed. Or else…Or else their followers wouldn't believe either. And the punishment for such thing was the most terrible one…

"Damned creature! Come here this instant!" Kisara silently obeyed, getting up and walking quietly towards the shadow of her Master near the door "You haven't finished, right? Shall Osiris take your worthless soul! Don't forget the dinner must be served in an hour. Do as you are told, slave, or else I shall teach you something about the grief of Hell! Now finish you work here! Everything takes you so much time!" he added few more comments about the quality of her work and the devil, then he turned and left, leaving a stressful silence behind him.

Kisara bowed her head over the floor, her hands grasping the cloth she used to clean the tiles, and she worked as fast as she could. Finally this duty of hers was over. She walked to the well in the backyard, lowering the bucket to get her some water. Washing her hands and drinking some of the cool liquid, Kisara splashed water over the heated skin of her face. Panting slightly as the cold was spread on her skin, bringing slightest relief to her. She shook the feeling away. She didn't deserve to feel relief. It was a feeling for worthy beings, and not lazy ugly demons like her.

She looked up into the sky, the sun was setting somewhere down the horizon, and murky shadows were hovering lower and lower in the air, closing on the ancient world. A bat flew near her head, crossing the yard on its way to the unknown depths of darkness. Kisara almost let out a whimper. Almost. But the creature was blind, helpless. It wasn't going to attack her. It just looked for a place to stay, away from the light "The darkness…" his words beat into her ears, the gloomy whisper of doom "The darkness…"

She shook her head lightly, heading into the kitchen. A stranger passed near the backyard the instant she closed the back-door. He was clothed in a long black cloak and humming a little hoarse rude song about the Pharaoh and his priests. That was no other than Thief Bakura, who had an important meeting with the late Pharaoh's tomb that night, and he was eagerly looking forward to seeing it.

Kisara placed her shaking hands on both sides of the tray, walking across the hall and into the dinning room. Her arms ached, and her legs were unsteady from the long kneeling on the floor. She was hungry and hurt…And much to her fright, her mind kept wandering to unknown places beyond her imagination, running the mysterious words the high priest whispered to her, feeling his ankh close to her heart under her clothes, wondering about the meaning that lay beneath everything she had heard yet too afraid to really decipher anything important. It was like reading a book over and over without getting to the end, so to not think about the way everything was supposed to happen.

Her Masters sat at a large table covered with food. They'd just returned from the evening prayer, the one Kisara wanted to be present at so badly. Because of all the horrible things she'd done that day, she felt she just wasn't punished enough. Placing her right foot on the faded carpet that lay very purposely to cause young slaves to stumble upon it, she had made another half of step before she fell on the floor. Ancient instinct taught human beings to stretch the arms forwards while falling. Kisara involuntarily obeyed this instinct, even though the tray placed in her hands. The next moment she was pushed up to her feet by a raged hand. The other came within seconds, leaving a fair slap on her left cheek, the skin burned awfully after the blow. Kisara held back her tears and opened her right eye a bit, only to see a furious red face looking at her with an expression that very resembled an angered buffalo.

Another ancient instinct: raise your hands when you are hit in the face. The fifth blow sent Kisara flying right into the wall, there she lay, crooked into herself, a human lump of FlEsH AnD BoNeZ, her silky white hair covering her back and face. She was picked up, her legs dragging on the floor, when suddenly cold night air hit her skin. The slam of the door indicated that she was indeed thrown away.

The darkness was almost complete when Kisara stood and shivered in her short clothes. Now she could see the moon, hanging dangerously low in the night curtain. It was full, yellow-red and glowing like huge burning firefly. This sight only scared her more. Reaching into her clothes to get the ankh the high priest gave her, she quickly prayed for a solution to this trouble of hers. Now she was entirely alone, wandering on the streets of the ancient city, in the dark of the night, with empty stomach and without many decent clothes, the cold air traced over her burning beaten skin. Maybe she would live through the night if she weren't murdered by thieves (At least one of them was busy tonight). But what about tomorrow? And the day after tomorrow, considering the option of staying alive another night without work or food? Kisara sighed lightly to herself, letting her feet to carry her without defined direction or aim.

She stopped at a high building, which sent stoned smooth arms into the night sky. A second glance clarified this building was the temple of the god Ra. Shivering once again in the cold outside, she wondered if it was allowed to worship Ra at night, for the sun wasn't rising outside. Standing in front of the door, she saw light coming somewhere from within, the walls granted warmth to the ones that stayed inside the temple. Shuddering again, she got into the temple, hesitatingly walking through the corridor to the praying hall. She never noticed the entrance was blocked by something black and heavy behind her slim form, hiding the full moon with impassable barrier.

The room was even larger than in the morning because of its emptiness, and it was dimly lit by an oil lamp hanging somewhere in its deepness. The statue of Ra stood there, on its regular place, eyeing the room coldly with its golden eyes. Now Kisara let the tears stream freely on her cheeks, falling in front the statue, stretching her arms to pray before the almighty god. She closed her eyes while whispering the words, making herself mean everything she said, putting her entire will and soul into the litany. She never noticed the shadowed figure that entered the room, sliding quietly into the mere silence. She never felt him getting even closer to her, standing above her kneeling form.

She was greatly startled when he lightly touched her left cheek, where the burning skin spread sparks of pain into her mind. Opening her eyes, she raised her head to look at the figure, its face covered in shadows, its hand still on her face. "How did you get this?" asked the calm voice of the high priest.

It wasn't just the fact it was quiet impossible to notice the bruise on her cheek in the dimness of the room, it was also the glow that was coming from the figure's teeth, shining patterns of ivory with every words he let out. Kisara moved away, falling on the floor few inches from the high priest's feet. His face was still shrouded in the darkness.

"I'm…I'm very sorry…" she said, looking up at him fearfully. Was he going to send her away, into the cold of the night?

"It is not wise to wander outside at the late of the night, dear…But it was not so wise to come here either." he stated, letting the words hover in the air like rain drops.

"Why?" she breathed out, supporting her body with her elbows.

He smirked, long fangs gleaming in the dull light. He spoke again, hissing the words in a low, dangerously sad voice.

"Because the darkness is everywhere…"

He knelt down beside her, close enough for her to notice the sudden red aura glowing in his usually calm blue eyes, and the elongated fangs. She crawled back with fear and slight disgust. But most of all she was terrified to discover the state the high priest was in. He smiled softly and sadly at her, his eyes full of reddish concern and acceptance.

"I understand your fear," he whispered "I can understand clearly everything you feel…I see it reflecting in your eyes, the rejection, the insults, the hits…You are the odd one, an exception, the most loathed being on this earth…But so am I…"

He was gradually closing the gap between them, looking deeply into her blue stormy eyes. She panted slightly at his words, her heart full with fear, the skin on her face still burning. "I live a life of pretend. I have to wear the mask of the high priest every damn day I breathe. But at nights…This is the time I wear my real face, my real skin. No one knows who I really am. My followers admire a mere monster. I wonder sometimes how they'll react if they find out."

Kisara let out a little gasp of shock. She watched his eyes, two little flames of sorrow burning in the dull light in front of her, and for the first time in her life she felt empathy, she felt she knew well the feelings the high priest was talking about and, in some strange way, she felt somehow welcomed in his presence. He wasn't rude at her, he wasn't yelling; he talked softly, she noticed his eyes gently examined the bruise on her left cheek, slicing the darkness around her lonely figure on the floor. He didn't need the light to see the blue rims of the mark moving lightly with every breath she took.

He sat now just near her on the floor, his hand gently brushed a strand of white silky hair away from her face, the gloomy smile never leaving his lips when he said "What is your name, young girl?"

She looked at him hesitatingly, reading the silent promise in his eyes. He did nothing to harm her, and he was waiting for her, eyeing her face silently, not hurrying her, not pressuring. She closed her eyes, smiling softly when she said "My name is Kisara, your majesty."

His reaction to this startled her once again. "What a beautiful name," he said, and she opened her eyes with surprise, to meet his calm, sincere gaze. His eyes cast tranquility on her soul, opening the gates to her sorrow. And she talked. At first he asked her where she lived, and she told him about the house she worked in. He asked about her work, and she told him about the hours she spent on the floor, the chores she had to do everyday in order to keep the house and the stable clean. He asked what made her Masters hit her, and she told him about her fall during dinner.

His eyes were focused on her beautiful features when she spoke, admiring the gentleness and the simple grace of her movements, the way she spoke, slightly tilting her head to the side as she remembered more things she wanted to tell him. He felt his influence clouding her mind more and more, and even without using the millennium Rod he could make her tell him everything he wanted to hear. Sometime his gaze traveled to her neck, admiring the visible part of her pale skin. He could almost smell the doleful liquid hiding beneath, the metallic taste played on his lips and in his mouth…But the thought about doing this brought him no delight this time. This poor girl has gone through enough in her short life, enough misery and suffering for a millennium lifetime. Should he finish this for her? Should he take this life away from her, only to satisfy his own hunger?

He could make her say it. He knew he could make her surrender without a struggle over her life. He knew it would be very simple for him to charm her until she couldn't tell the difference between his blood-drawing bite and a light kiss. Yet a strange feeling hovered inside his heart…This girl…His little prey…She was so similar to him, she knew so well the bitter taste of depression…

Her voice rang in his ears, as she said the things he wished so badly to hear her saying.

"I want to die."

He closed his eyes, smiling softly, trying to oppress the sensation of regret spreading like stain of blood on white cloth in his inhuman heart. Taking her pale hand into his tanned one, he got up, slowly helping her to her feet. She was already too deep in his sweet illusions, her eyes looking at him tiredly. He walked, leading her up to the terrace of the temple, where the stars burned in their celestial heavens, making her gasp in adoration as she watched the ancient world covered by glowing blanket of night-lights. He stood there, watching her, fighting against the thought of sparing her life. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him, her eyes two burning sapphires in the darkness "Why?" she asked, and her voice broke the ice in his heart. He knew the answer for so long, but he never told it to anyone.

"Because there is nothing fair. Saints die suffering, and heretic live forever. The innocent are tainted, and the demons are lurking to devour our souls. The kings are the puppets of the gods, and thieves can't count the treasures they rob…" at this exact point, a little sneezing sound crossed the late Pharaoh's tomb, alerting the guards. Thief Bakura quickly found a little storeroom to hide in, and cursed huskily to himself.

"…The gods are testing us, dear Kisara, never letting us overcome the obstacles so easily. And as for the two of us…They never granted us our only wish. They never granted peace to our souls…" and as he spoke, he realized the desire to taste her blood was overwhelmed by another wish. The wish to be with her, to be lost forever in those starry pools of her eyes, to lead her spirit into eternal sleep…

"Will you follow if I do?" he asked silently, loosening his control over her a bit. Her eyes were so thoughtful when she answered.

"Yes…"

And the silvery ankh he gave her finally fell from her fisted hand to the floor.

Leaning against the wall, he pushed her down to sit in his lap, affectingly stroking her cheek, calming her down in his arms. He was focused on the fading skies up above, when suddenly her voice rang in his ears "Your majesty…" she said pleadingly "Please…Tell me your name…"

Her face was so pale in the pre-dawn light. He knew soon they would step down the stairs of Hell, so he had no reason to hide in the shadows anymore.

"My name is Seth…" he said, a moment before his lips touched hers, hovering for few moments, tasting the rare relief, a glint of fear and the sweet bitterness of acceptance. Then he left her lips for her neck, sliding in his searches for the right spot. When he reached the place where he could feel the pulse under the smooth skin, the thirst for her blood pounding in his stomach, he made a shudder course her body when he whispered "Will you follow?" to her skin.

She closed her eyes, calming herself down. "Yes. I will." she promised again, lying still in his arms, waiting for him. A bitter smile played on his lips when he kissed the spot for one last time, slowly sinking his fangs into her skin, the metallic taste of her blood spinning his senses right into the heaven of high. She let a whimper cross her lips when he bit a little harder, marking her skin with his bite, allowing the blood to reach his longing lips. Letting one hand run in her white silky hair, he treated the wound, knowing its fatality.

She lay so calm in his arms, never moving, never trying to writhe away, not willing to save herself. He stopped when he suddenly heard her speaking.

"I'll wait…" she whispered, her eyes were open depths to the beyond before she closed them for the last time, relishing in the peace Ra's first rays granted her.

Those rays…He never saw them lighting the sky like thousand candles, so bright, so beautiful golden shades…He felt his fangs shortening, his body returning to be human once again, his eyes not red anymore, but Nile blue. And he looked at her, forever dreaming in his arms. He felt the burn on his face, on his arms, into his eyes, consuming his heart…He looked right into the black holes of the end.

Hugging Kisara closer to him, holding her hand tightly in his already almost invisible one, Seth leant his head on hers, letting the light be their last shelter.

FAB: ………Well…I've tried really hard to make this readable…SOO…What do you think about this story? SethXKisara is my personal favorite pairing!

Please REVIEW this story if you have some spare time now! Thank you very-very much!

Don't forget to enjoy the summer!

Ja-ne!