Coppelia's Casket
By: Neko-chan
A/N: Dark. Very, very, very dark. o.O;; I think I scared myself by writing this. *shrugs* Hope you like it, anyway. Inspired _slightly_ by the poem "Prophyria's Lover."
WARNING: VERY, VERY, VERY dark Yami Bakura/Ryou.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own. You don't sue. The end.
It was hot--stifling, really. He couldn't breathe. No air. Where was the Ra forsaken air?! A breath...a pant...no more? What do you mean--there was no more? That was impossible! There had to be air. How could he breathe if there was no more air? If there was no more air, then that meant... That meant... He would die, right?
NO!
Fists pounding against a hard wooden surface. No give. Solid. Stiff. Where was he? He couldn't remember anything. Just going to sleep...and waking up here. Fingers running over grooves and notches--nails caught against his soft skin, tearing it, shredding it, causing blood to run over his hands like a crimson stream.
Wooden planks all around him. Above him. Below him. Underneath him and to all sides. What did that mean? An idea niggled the back of his mind--but no matter how hard he tried, it continued to wiggle away, escaping from his grasp and his need for answers. Where was he?
He should recognize all of this...shouldn't he?
The air was getting hotter. Though it was dark, he could sense the sun pounding against the top of... Of... Of whatever it was that he was stuck in. Still...the idea tickled him, whispering, 'I know... I know where you are...'
"WHERE AM I?!" he screamed into the darkness.
...no answer.
He continued to pound against the wood, trying desperately to get free. And the heat continued to rise, causing sweat to trickle down from his forehead, pooling into his eyes and stinging them with its saltiness. Another hit and another cut...and another stream of blood running down his arm to pool under his elbow, making its way under his body.
Another smack.
Another scream.
Where was he?
Why couldn't he get out?
Why was all of this strangely familiar? As... As if he should remember all of this... But couldn't, for some strange reason. What was happening to him? All he wanted was to get out. To get free. _Why couldn't he get out???_
"HELP ME!" he screamed.
The sun beating down onto the blackness.
The blackness absorbing the light, making the small area hotter and hotter.
It was stifling.
Hotter and hotter.
An inferno?
No, not an inferno.
Much, much hotter.
No relief, no coolness.
Only pain...
...and only blood.
The darkness was pressing down upon him, squeezing him dry with its weight. Why wouldn't it let up? Why wasn't anyone answering his screams? Wasn't anyone there? Wasn't anyone listening? Kami... Kami was listening--surely? Oh just, please! Anyone would do! Just let him OUT OF HERE!!!
Pant.
Pant.
PANT.
PANT. PANT. PANT. PANT. PANT.
He couldn't stop it. His breaths were going in and out quickly--hyperventilating, panicking. He would pass out soon if he wasn't careful. He didn't care anyone. No one was coming. No one heard him. No one would probably ever hear him.
He was running out of air.
...he was getting sleepy, his eyelids drooping over his eyes.
The air felt so warm now--comforting, in a way. It was like being wrapped up in a down comforter. That wasn't such a bad thing...right? It didn't matter, anyway. He was so sleepy... So very sleepy... All he wanted to do was just close his eyes and just sleep. Sleep for all of eternity? Didn't matter. No, it didn't matter anymore. Just sleep...
Where was he?
A splinter cut him and more blood ran down his arm.
A sharp pain.
A throbbing pain.
Salty bitterness of his own fear-sweat.
The air was so hot...
...he felt so sluggish. Just...close...his eyes...
And yet...
And yet...
And yet... The darkness pressed down upon him, once again squeezing the air from his lungs. If he did not get free, he would die, suffocating to death. He didn't want that...did he? But he was so sleepy... So very sleepy... Surely his eyelids couldn't get any heavier? And it was so hard to keep them open. In the end, _why_ keep them open?
In the end, he was going to die, anyway?
...wasn't he?
Eyes snapped open and he screamed once again. Fists renewed their pounding, and blood resumed their path down his skin. This time, tears trailed a salty path down his face, joining the puddle of sweat and blood under his body. But still... He wasn't free.
Would he ever get free?
All he wanted to do was be free...
He was a mouse... Trapped... A bird in a trap... A fish in a net... An animal caught in a spike-lined pit. If he did not get free, his only option was death. He didn't want to die. No, he didn't. And so the pounding resumed.
"DAMN!!!"
...
"HELP ME! SOMEONE!!!"
...
The darkness pressed down upon him once again...and his air finally ran out. He couldn't breathe. His lungs wouldn't fill with air. The air was hotter than an inferno. Was this what Hell was like? If so, he would cry for all of eternity.
Rough wood grated against the skin of his hands and rubbed them raw.
Blood flowed like water.
He was falling, going deeper and deeper... There was no end to it all, just a lonely abyss that held no end. Just emptiness. Death? Where could death possibly wait in a bottomless pit? A scream caught in his throat and he continued to fall. Deeper... And deeper... And deeper...
The darkness swallowed him whole.
~ * ~
Ryou sat up in bed, his eyes wide in fear, breath coming in pants as he swallowed the cool night air in gulps. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, masking every other sound. Fear-sweat trickled down his forehead, finally dripped off of his jawline. Swallowing audibly, Ryou fell back onto the bed.
"It was a dream. Only a dream. Nothing but a dream..." he whispered hoarsely.
Suddenly, Yami Bakura appeared above him and clutched his shoulders with vise-like fingers. "No, it's not just a dream, hikari of mine. It is a nightmare. Welcome to _my_ nightmare..."
He crushed his lips against Ryou's own.
Ryou was swallowed up by the darkness.
He screamed.
...and the casket's lid closed...
A/N: Review, onegai! =^_^=