Waking the Monster

For Compy's Season V Challenge.
Pairing: Psychoshipping (Yami no BakuraxYami no Marik)

"Bakura, get away from there!"

The white-haired boy flinched back from the door, holding his hand as if he'd been burned. He glowered at the Professor.

"I've told you often enough – stay away from the experimental lab," the Professor admonished before disappearing through the door. It shut behind him with a resounding click, leaving Bakura standing sullenly outside it. He stared for a long moment at the closed wooden door, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, before turning and resolutely stalking down the long, dimly lit stone hallway.

He's never got time for me anymore. There were no games of hide-n-seek among the specimen jars in the basement, no more science projects…

Depressed, and no little upset at having been brushed off yet again, Bakura began to climb the stairs that led to the north tower where he kept his own projects. Nothing special…just a lot of paper, glue and the occasional flammable substance. I wonder when he'll be done this time. The Professor had been taking more and more time, spending hours upon hours in the experimental lab as of late.

It has to be something amazing – he always hides the best stuff.

Bakura pulled his wooden chair out from behind the metal examination table that doubled as a desk. The Professor had given it to him, had told him the story behind it, how the cool metal had borne the weight of corpses in a morgue before the Professor had purchased it. Now it only held bits of paper and scissors in assorted colors. He sometimes imagined he could see the bodies, lying stretched out on it still, eyes glowing white from experiments gone wrong.

Maybe he'll stop ignoring me tomorrow…

*****

The rest of the week passed in weird junk heaps. Rusted pieces of scrap metal piled down the corridor leading to the experimental lab. Every day, without fail, there was something new tossed onto the pile…and something else missing.

He can't possibly be using all this! Bakura thought, running his hands over a split helicopter blade sitting on the bed of a pickup truck. Broken stereo speakers tripped him as he scuttled away when the door began to creak open. Scowling, the white-haired boy hid behind a pile of the junk, watching as the Professor grabbed a few random items and disappeared back into the lab, door slamming shut behind him.

I'll find out what he's working on, Bakura promised himself. He's been ignoring me too long.

*****

Upstairs in his room in the north tower, he sat up, working. He was determined to find an answer. Careful hands folded clay, mixed paste out of water and paper. All the while, he had the inside of the lock ingrained in his mind, working on a mold for a skeleton key to break in. I have to know…gotta know…what is he building in there?

The Professor was looking thinner and weaker, more maniacal with each passing day. Something was going on…something wrong. And the Professor was hiding it, trying to keep it secret.

The albino boy snarled. This ends soon.

*****

There are very few dimensions: three, which we call the three planes of space. And a fourth….time.

He fumbled with the lock on the experimental lab door. A few tries, some shaking of the doorknob…and it opened. Just swung open, as if it hadn't been locked to keep him out. Smirking, Bakura slipped through. Once inside, his face fell. The experimental lab was a small room, nothing exceptional at all. Desperate, he began exploring the tiny space, opening closets and throwing papers about with abandon.

The table in the center of the room made it look even smaller than it was. Sitting on the table was a shiny pistol, a paperweight on top of paperwork. Growling, Bakura snatched up the handgun and scattered the papers. Nothing, nothing! He had been convinced…the Professor had to have been working on something –

He tore open the last closet, and froze. Bars…and behind them, a tunnel.

The door creaked open. Bakura whipped around, holding the gun in two shaking hands. It was the Professor.

"What are you doing in here?"

I can't open the door…

A set of keys hung from the Professor's belt, half-covered by the white lab coat. Bakura's eyes latched onto them. "Open the door," he hissed, no longer holding the gun defensively, but offensively, pointing it directly at the Professor.

"Bakura—"

"Do it!"

"Bakura!"

"Let's see what's so important you've forgotten about me. Go on – open it." He placed the muzzle gently against the Professor's temple. "Go on," he urged, voice lighter now that he was so close to finding out what the secret was.

The Professor paused and Bakura cocked the gun. Shaking hands pulled out the ring of keys and fitted them into the lock. All the while the Professor was trying to talk to him. Bakura ignored the words. The moment the door was open, he threw down the gun and dashed down the hallway, chuckling madly.

Let's see, let's see, let's see—

"Bakura! Come back!"

Bakura never heard him, too caught up in racing into the cavernous depths of the lab. Mad eyes shone in the sudden darkness as the lit candles extinguished. Mad laughter. Madness…

Hello, dinner.