Kana: OMG, I'm so disturbing.

Bakura: BUT, I am now in a story I ENJOY doing

Kana: You're so sick.

Bakura: Yes…Precious! (Runs off cackling)

Kana: Psycho.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh

NOTE: I got this idea when my parents got into a discussion of the commercial for the movie 'Hannibal Rising' (no own), I learned a few things about that and the books and squished a few ideas together.

Summary: The inside of a killer's mind is never pretty, and most people never want to tread close to it. But to catch a killer, one must be consulted…

WARNING: Random and hints of cannibalism. Offended by it, don't read it.

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Dead Men Tell No Tale

One-Shot

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The walls…they are white. The floor…it is white. The bed…it is white!

I hate the white! I want color damnit! Even I'm turning white! My hair, my skin, they have taken my pigments! The bastards!

…Or was I white before? Was I this white? Was my hair this pale?

No! I refuse to think I am this terrible color! This color mocks me! It mocks my sanity, it mocks my very being! This terrible, vile color! And now it is draining off the walls and the floor and the bed and into me! It is making me mock myself!

…I want to get out…out of the White Sea…

OOOOO

"This is sick…sick, sick, sick, sick, sick…" Ryou muttered nervously, holding a clipboard close to his chest as men veered and insulted him as he walked past.

"Don't worry sir," The guard said reassuringly. "If anything gets out of control - ."

"Hey, college boy!" A raspy voiced man shouted through the bars of his cell, blue eyes flashing menacingly. "Why don't you check in, we have space available?!"

The burly security guard smacked the bars of the asylum cell securely. "Be quiet Kaiba! He is our guest!"

"Yeah, yeah." The man flicked his brown hair back, one blue eye still twitching noticeably. Ryou caught the toothy sneer he got from him, a chill running down his spine. The rap sheet on his cell read: Seto Kaiba, convicted for the murder of his step-father and soon mental deterioration; a danger to himself and others. Family- younger brother, living in Domino. Contact- weekly.

'These people have families.' Ryou thought glumly, seeing the same sort of things on other people's sheets. Older sister, younger sister, mother and father, wife and two children.

"So, why is it getting a visitor?" The guard asked, carefully unlocking another cell, this one farther away from all the others, with a steel wall with only a small one by one barred square so people could see what he was doing. Ryou winced at the criminal's identification.

Ryou shook his head. "Just a bit of questioning."

"With the murders up north?" The guard questioned normally.

"Yes." Ryou mumbled this quietly as he was showed into the cell. "Thank you."

The guard smiled reassuringly. "Holler if he tries to claw out your eyes." He said pleasantly, hoping to get a chuckle out of Ryou. Instead, it made the man's stomach settle even lower into his shoes.

With a weak nod, Ryou was shut inside, the sudden whiteness making him shield his eyes.

"You get used to it after a while."

Ryou jumped, head swiveling to look at the man in front of him.

The man was sitting on his bed, knees loosely to his chest. He had a relatively friendly smile on, mahogany eyes shining with affability. His hair was long, longer than Ryou's own tame mane. It was white, just like the walls and his skin, and for a minute, Ryou thought he was part of the room. It hung to his waist in a wild waterfall of hair. His clothes were white as well, and his fingers were twitching around his legs, most likely itching to rip it off.

"What?" Ryou managed to breath, too scared to scream.

The man smiled warmly. "The white, you'll get used to it. I did." His bitterness showed clearly on the color. And yet, he still was grinning like they were old friends.

"Yes…it is a little overbearing." Ryou agreed without thinking. He pulled the clipboard from its place sticking right up against his chest from his anxiety. "Well…I suppose you heard of the…mur…ders…" he trailed off as the grin on the man's face got bigger and wider with each syllable of the word.

The man chuckled. "Yes, I have heard. Terrible, it is." He said captivatingly, the same abnormally delighted smile still plastered to his face. "A serial killer, is he? The one that skinned their victims? Yes…terrible." His grin widened to the point were his teeth flashed in the luminescent lights above, showing sharp canines.

Ryou remembered the headline:

Serial killer Bakura finally captured and sent to asylum. Known body count is twenty four, but suspected to rise higher as new cases are found.

Bakura smiled charmingly again. "Something the matter?" he asked cheerfully, as if he never touched a knife in his life. As if he never slit the throats of innocent people. As if he never struck fear into the hearts of everyone who ever heard of his name.

As if he wasn't a murderer.

"I – uh -." Ryou groped for an excuse to hide his fear. But, like the monster he was, Bakura already had seen it. And yet his smile never faltered into a smirk. "No, nothing. Just a chill."

"Yes," Bakura said appealingly, shifting ever so slightly, legs stretching out in front of him. "It comes with the white." Again, the hostility.

"Did someone inform you why I was coming?" Ryou asked quietly, afraid any noise would break the criminal of his socially acceptable behavior.

"You wish for me to give you information." Bakura replied, eyes narrowing teasingly, enjoying the way Ryou reacted. "You hope that I might now this man?"

Ryou swallowed, nodding. "Yes – well – anyway," he checked his clipboard. "Do you know where we could find a 'Malik Ishtar'? He was an accomplice of the suspect in this case."

Bakura began to chuckle under his breath. Ryou backed up as it soon increased to a downright cackle. With a low sniff, Bakura managed to control himself.

"Yes," he hissed, the 'good-natured' smile no longer all that friendly. "Yes, I had him over for dinner once."

Ryou felt the hairs on the back of his neck shoot up. "May I ask…do you know where he lives?"

Bakura chuckled again. "Yes, I had him over for dinner." His eyes were widening, becoming bloodshot as his voice rose. Ryou's throat was suddenly jammed with a cork of steel, making it hard to swallow. He clutched the clipboard to his chest again, ready to use it as a weapon. "With wine." His canines flashed again.

It took a minute for Ryou to understand the real meaning of the phrase, and as soon as he did, all the charm this man once held flew right out the window, accompanied by his bravery.

"Y – You – a – ate him?" he stuttered, a scream building in his throat, threatening to pop out the imaginary cork that was there.

Bakura suddenly curled his lips in sadistic glee. "Just a taste."

That did it, Ryou finally screamed in horror, not wanting to be in here with that thing any longer, he scurried out with such force it was almost graceful, streaking past the guard that opened the door when he heard his cry. He ran down the hallway, regaining himself when he reached his car, later telling his supervisor that someone else could interview Bakura.

Bakura was still smiling when the guard looked in, trying to see why Ryou had fled. He pleasantly greeted the man, showing no signs of the earlier vicious personality.

Kaiba walked by on his way to a leisure unit, but not before looking in on Bakura, once again staring off into space.

"Cant keep your visitors sane for long, eh, Bakura?" He sneered.

Bakura looked up, cheerfulness replaced by an unemotional mask. And then, the smirk. "Why don't you swallow your tongue?"

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Kana: GOOD GOD was that random!

Bakura: (cackling) I got to act in character!

Kana: And about that last part, in the book 'silence of the lambs', Hannibal told a man that insulted the person that came to question him to 'swallow his tongue' and ended up making the man commit suicide.

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