.:.Hellfire.:.
Summary: Yami no Malik and Yami no Bakura have been sent to Hell. And they're about to drag their hikaris down with them.
Chapter 1: The Road to Hell
The Pharaoh could not have known when he banished them that they would ever have met in the depths of the Void sector of the Shadow Realm. He definitely never would have suspected that they both would manage to escape from that bottomless pit. If he had been told information that either of these had happened, well, he would be duly shocked.
However, the method of escaping would have shocked him beyond both of these combined.
For the Void sector had a bottom- a bottom that was thought not to exist. But of course, such a pair had never been banished to it before.
Yes, there was a bottom to the Void. Yes, they had found it. The catch?
It led straight into Hell.
Yami no Malik and Yami no Bakura, known for convenience as Mariku and Bakura, looked around their new surroundings. After all, Hell was somewhat different than the Shadow Realm.
Hell was rather an anti-climax.
Sure, fires burned everywhere, but only in rows, patches, and along cracks in alleyways. Perfectly normal looking houses, buildings, and streets smothered the fires elsewhere. There were no screams of the tormented.
In fact, other than the darkness and the fires, it looked like a normal town. Around them were normal-looking people dressed in a variety of clothes, some outlandish, some normal. A group of men walked by in business suits, talking urgently among themselves.
"I know what's weird about this place." Bakura said.
"Aside from the fires burning everywhere and the otherwise lack of light?" Mariku asked, staring about avidly, the firelight reflecting oddly in his violet eyes. Or, that could just be the odd reddish glint of barely-hidden insanity.
Not that Bakura minded insane. He had been dubbed so enough times himself.
An ache was starting to form around his ribs. Strange. Maybe the heat? But no, he couldn't feel the temperature. Wasn't hell supposed to be about torturing people? It certainly wasn't doing a good job. Maybe it got worse as time went on.
"There's no sidewalk. Everybody just walks on the road. No cars."
"Ohh..." Mariku said, bright eyes adjusting themselves to this piece of information.
However, at that moment, as if to disprove his point, a limousine pulled up, cruising slowly along the streets. People looked at it and stepped to the side.
"Look, it's Lucifer."
"Lord of Hell going on a walkie?"
"Haven't seen his bitch in years."
"Didn't you hear? She got married. To some guy from Earth."
"Earth? I heard he was a demon."
Bakura tuned them out. The gem of the conversation was the first statement: that was Lucifer, Satan himself.
"Did you hear that?" Mariku asked, tugging on the slightly shorter teen's collar, due to the lack of sleeve. The trip out of the Shadow Realm had dressed them in what they had been wearing before banishment:
A sleeveless black shirt, open-sided and with three buckles holding it closed at either side, plus black jeans- not exactly tight, but not loose, either, for Bakura.
A t-shirt that had been cut, tied and painted on so as to be almost unrecognizable, revealing a strip of golden skin and hugging his form was coupled with black cargo pants and the dramatic navy cap for Mariku. As a soul, your clothes were simply what you imagined yourself in.
"No, no, Mariku, I missed it. They were ONLY talking for the entire STREET to hear." he griped sarcastically.
"They said it was Lucifer!"
"Thank you for that reiteration. Your point being?"
"If we take that guy out, Hell is OURS!"
A slow grin spread across Bakura's face. Now there was an idea worth pursuing.