ANGELIC ABUSE
By: Darkinyron
Disclaimer:
I own my ideas, but nothing already part of the Yu-Gi-Oh! animé or manga.I'm in a very miserable mood right now. Here comes yet another story that I thought up five seconds before deciding that it must be written down. It's rated R (higher rated version will be posted on my website if it's liked) for obvious abuse, possible drug use, rape, language, and just flat out twisted content that loves to well up in my mind. If this shit offends you, I don't care. It was your decision to venture into my realm. The condition you are in when you leave is not my problem. Go cry to your mommy so I can point and laugh. Flames will be used to light vanilla cigars, bombs, and your house. 'k?
Malik = hikari
Marik = yami
Not sure if I'm going to keep this story. Please tell me if I should continue or not; I need encouragement in order to finish. I give you the story; you give me the review. Got it?
. chapter . one .
. Captive . of . Lust .
Crimson. The colour associated with death. One may think that black is also a symbol of the end; being it associated with Satan, Anubis' fur, the night, and the murky pathways through the menacing Shadow Realm of the Underworld. But when you're still living, and the blackness lurks within you, are you considering dead, or alive?
He stared into the mirror. The black eye, surrounded by a light shade of purple had opened slightly at the crack of his eyelid, exposing a bloodshot, glazed and icy iris beneath. A small trail of drool escaped his mouth, gliding over his cracked lips before falling into the sink and being sucked into the stomach of the drain. It had happened again, and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.
To any other human, he would have defended himself; beating the shit out of an opponent was not something Seto Kaiba refused to do when necessary. But to leave the possessor in a bloody heap of breathing bones and guts would surely end his relationship with Malik. He loved Malik, almost as much as he adored his little brother. Back at Battle City, the Egyptian had been a mere obstacle in his path to success. Now, the new side of Malik had come out, and he'd seen just how valuable the Keeper of the Rod was.
Kaiba's gaze shifted from the mirror--which had ironically been cracked during the fight--to an antique vase that had been placed above the toilet by one of the maids. He had not ordered his personal bathroom to be cleaned in well over a week; he was afraid of someone noticing the damage and stirring up extra trouble. Inside the vase, two wilting roses hung over its sides, both beginning to loose their petals and their will to survive. He sighed. Kaiba hated dead things, whether it be plants, insects, or people, it was his weakness.
Why does a rose represent love, when a rose always dies?
The petals, which had once coloured the bathroom with spirit, were now becoming crispy and blackened on the edges. The darkness--the death--was engulfing them.
Is this how it shall be with Malik and I? Is his dark side ripping us apart? Fuck this, I should have listened to my old advice. Yugi and his gang of geeks know nothing of love... They know nothing of the pain and agony it summons! I shall go back to the life of solitude!
Either way, Kaiba knew he was fooling himself. He was trapped, restrained in the relationship like a dog on a leash.
A dog... Have I truly stooped down to Jounouchi's pathetic level in society?
He stood not a chance against Marik--the yami. Yes, he could easily take him down, and kill him, if he found it necessary. It wasn't inability; it was fear. Fear that he would hurt Malik in the process. But now, he had to do something, but what?! With his mind clouded with migraines, his soul weak from damage, how was he supposed to find the strength--and the solution--to solve his problem?
Kaiba found his thoughts distracted. He panicked.
"Nii-sama! Seto!"
Mokuba... I cannot let him see me like this!
Fighting the pain in his limbs, Kaiba lounged for the door. He began to shove it closed when he felt himself impacting with another body on the opposite side, and at once a power struggle began. He pushed, quickly trying to think up an excuse for needing the door rammed shut at once.
"Mokuba... Come on, give me some privacy!"
"But Seto! I need to go! Let me in!"
"Mokuba, please." His voice was raspy, and if he thought he could hide it from Mokuba, he was wrong.
"Big brother! I mean it! And what the hell is wrong with your voice? You sound like you're dying from throat cancer!"
Finally, Mokuba's shoving won over Kaiba's declining strength. The elder brother found himself on the floor, yet more pain rushing through him, though this time focusing from his ass all the way up his spine, rocketing his already shaken-up head with more miserable throbbing.
"Jesus! You'd think you were having a....." Mokuba's voice drifted; his eyes shifted towards the form of his injured brother. Seto was beginning to sit up, rubbing his bottom and groaning with irritation.
Seto suddenly seemed to remember his sibling's presence. He looked up with shock, forgetting to cover his black eye and swollen lips. The adolescent's eyes began to well up with tears at the sight of his beaten brother, and slowly shifted down his body. Bruises marked the thinner Kaiba's pale skin. Slashes that had been left unattended were covered with dried blood; some had even began to open again and spill fresh inner contents from pulsating, dangerous arteries. In the corner, Mokuba noticed a large puddle of scarlet that had seeped through the forest-green carpet, and next to it, a far lighter substance he assumed to be from intercourse.
Tears cascaded from Mokuba's eyes as he once again looked upon his brother, whose face remained expressionless. He wondered just what it looked like under Seto's boxers--How badly bruised had he been? Was there evidence of rape?
"Nii-sama....." He managed to whisper.
"Mokuba," Seto began, looking his brother straight in the eyes. "Promise you won't tell anyone."
Mokuba's knees gave out, sending him to the ground beside his brother. Seto embraced him, feeling the warmth and immediate fear that radiated from the younger Kaiba's soul. Tears coursed Mokuba's round cheeks as he leaned over his brother to return the hug. Seto just let him, no matter how much Mokuba's salty tears stung his wounds. Mokuba tightened his grip around his brother's shoulders, receiving a small yelp from Seto. He pulled away, afraid to hurt Seto any further by irrational moves.
"Promise you won't tell anyone," Seto repeated.
"Nii-sama!" Mokuba's spirit suddenly and unexpectedly sucked itself back inside of him, demanding immediate attention towards the elder. "Tell me right now what happened to you! Who the hell did this? Was it...?"
"You do not have to know."
"Don't give me that bullshit!"
"Mokuba..."
"I'm not going to let some lard-ass prick get away with overtaking my brother! It was a gang wasn't it? ...The Blue Cobras?"
"Mokuba..."
"I swear to the gods I will see them pay for this!"
"Mokuba......"
"And I'll personally see to them being pushed six feet under while still alive!"
"MOKUBA!"
"Seto..."
"You won't tell anyone. It is no one's business, and last time I checked it was none of yours either."
"Don't start talking like our step-dad!"
"Mokuba, I..."
"No, Seto. I'm calling Malik and telling him what happened. Maybe he'll use his Millennium Rod to turn those freaks into soulless, walking trash!"
"No, I will not allow you to call Malik. He need not know about this."
"You aren't going to stop me from helping you this time, big brother." Mokuba's stern voice sheltered Seto's dodging remarks, and as Mokuba pulled his flip-up cell phone from his pocket, he could only sigh and hope for the best.
Not Malik... He doesn't know about this! He won't know what to do if he sees me like this! How am I to tell him the truth! He'll never forgive himself, or me, for allowing this to happen!
"Hello Isis!" Mokuba chimed on the phone. "This is Mokuba Kaiba, is Malik there? It's urgent..."
Seto held his breath, knowing that Isis would no doubt be fetching her brother to the phone. Mokuba wiped tears from his eyes, holding the phone between his chin and his shoulder while he waited for the Egyptian to arrive. He climbed the side-self, pulling himself to the highest rack to retrieve a washcloth before letting himself down with a small thud. He rinsed it in warm water, then ever so gently began to press it against Seto's wounds, sniffing as he cleaned them.
Seto flinched. He once again began to think of the roses--how their drying petals would so easily break away when touched, and how his blood was so easily washing away. The physical scars would heal, but not the mental scars. A rose could be replaced, but a lover could not. Right now he had no idea if he was going to be able to keep Malik in his life, or loose him.
Thoughts raced about the previous night; the memories of Marik's ruthlessness coming back to haunt him.
Seto tipped his head away slightly when he felt the yami grasp his arms in that possessive gesture he'd used so many times before. He'd never held onto him for so long though--but moved his body so close, almost pressing against him. The breath from his nostrils fanned over his cheek. A moment later the tip of Marik's soft lips nuzzled against his neck just slightly. His hand moved from his arm, slowly sliding over Seto's back. Seto clasped his eyes shut, biting the inside of his mouth as the Egyptian demon forced him to succumb to his wishes.
A warm, yet rough tongue raked against a fresh wound on Kaiba's neck, singing from the mingling of saliva and blood. He shuddered against his possessor, remembering why he endured the domination.
For Malik....
"Take off your clothes, bastard." Abrupt, just as Kaiba was used to. Marik watched as the CEO obeyed; Kaiba loosened the belt of his jeans and the buttons of his jacket. Beneath, he was naked. He felt his face beginning to flush as the younger man stared upon his abused body, and stared at the floor demurely.
I can't believe I am doing this..... Kaiba thought, mentally inquiring as to just how he had ended up in this situation. First a CEO of the richest company in Japan, now lowlife trash about to be mounted by a psychotic mind controller.
"Dear Kaiba," Marik snarled, his voice deep and threatening. "You will be doing no more of activating my Millennium Rod and toying with my gold. The only rod you will be the victim of is just waiting to break you."
Seto felt himself being pushed over onto Marik's bed, his wrists being bound with golden handcuffs. Marik crawled on top of him, holding him down and clasping his waste how a dog would take his bitch. Marik gave a low growl; Seto felt himself being pressed against by the other's erection. A moment later, Seto had to stifle a gasp as Marik rammed his member inside, and flinched with disgust against the unwilling heaving.
Marik's breath came out of his nostrils in fierce snorts; his eyes were slitted and glazed, teeth slightly bared and clenched. He squeezed Seto's arms, sharp nails gouging his skin. He could tolerate this--for now. He knew the pain was only going to increase, as well as the flow of blood, the insanity....
Seto felt relieved to be startled from his memory.
"Nii-sama! Hold still and let me tend to your wounds! I am not letting you go like this anymore!"
"Mokuba... What... What happened?"
"I called Malik. He's on his way over."
"Mokuba! I told you not to tell anyone!"
"I didn't promise."
A staring contest began. Childish, yet harmless. Mokuba, with two good eyes, easily defeated his brother who had to blink several times. His eyes, slowly recovering from bloodshot drought, began to well up with tears that refused to fall. Mokuba dabbed at his brother's black eye, earning more sounds of agony from the elder Kaiba.
"I didn't tell him how bad it is." Mokuba stated flatly, knowing that his brother would not find it any help.
"And how the fuck do you expect me to explain?!" Seto snapped.
"Tell him the truth, brother. You must stand up and defend yourself. You aren't going to get out of this situation if you do not seek help from anybody; you need Malik beside you to fight off this attacker!"
"Mokuba..."
"And I'm here too! Right beside ya, like old times!"
"Mokuba... You don't understand. This isn't just anybody."
"Seto, I don't care who it is! They will pay!"
"Then how do you defend yourself against someone, when you're nothing but a captive of lust? If you hurt that person, you hurt somebody else too?"
"What the fuck....?"
"Malik. I cannot hurt Malik!"
Mokuba's mouth dropped. "He's... He's back?"
"Yes. And unless I succumb to Marik's torture, Malik will be in a more critical condition than ever. I cannot fight back... I cannot risk Malik's health."
"Seto... Are you saying that you are Marik's slave? His sex toy? His punching bag?"
"Yes, Mokuba.... I am."
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Do review...
I suppose this was more of a prologue, but oh well. I'm too depressed to make an end-of-chapter comment.
