Hi.

Warnings: Rape and BoyxBoy

Um. Yeah. djfdlf

Waking up in a cold dark place was something he should have been used to, having lived in an underground tomb for most of his life.

But. They didn't live in Egypt anymore.

Malik sat up quickly. W-What? Raising his arms, he saw that they were covered with a thin, tattered beige-colored cloth. He hasn't—He fingered the material that covered his chest. He hadn't worn this since he was a child. Was he still a child? No, no. He and his family had moved away from Egypt long ago. So why…?

He stood up, the cloth that bunched up around his hips cascaded down to his knees, looking almost like a dress. It wasn't though, it was just the dressings of his people. The tombkeepers. His sister, and even Rishid had ones just like it, stored away somewhere.

But why was he wearing it?

He was done with this part of his life long ago. He'd already moved on, to bigger and better things—the outside world. No more being sheltered. No more being hidden. This place, although there were a few good memories, only the more horrible ones surfaced in his mind. They almost made him cringe.

He put his hand on the wall, walking forward. It wasn't lit very well, this room. Only one dim candle off in the corner didn't do much to help him where he was standing. He took another step, squinting to find the doorway.

"Hello?" His voice echoed through the many tunnels. O-Oh god, looking around and it was all coming back. He didn't want to be here. He shouldn't be here. He should be…He should be…

Where should he be?

O-Oh, right. Japan? Japan. Domino City, Japan. No. Then what was he doing, here? Egypt isn't exactly a hop, skip and a jump away from where he lived…Had someone kidnapped him? His heart began to pound and he dragged his bare feet across the ground, moving forward.

He hasn't been here in so long. If…if only he could remember where that door that led outside was. Malik wracked his brain. It was the strangest thing. It felt almost as though his memory of this place kept coming and going, almost like a dream.

A…dream…?

No. No, that can't be it. Everything was too real. The walls were cold and hard, and his feet ached from being scraped across the floor. Even the old, musty smell was there.

What the fuck was going on?

A crash down the hall made him almost literally pee himself. He grew cold all the sudden. He wasn't alone? M-Maybe this person was able to help him?

He cursed himself for hoping on such a stupid thing. He was getting a bad feeling about all this. Of course there would be no one here to help him.

Another crash. It sounded closer.

H-Hide! His mind screamed at him. He didn't have the slightest idea as to who it could be, but another part of him did not want to find out. This place was dangerous. He thought he was alone! Why would he randomly wake up in a place such as this, he just didn't get it!

He scurried back into the room, tripping a little, and hiding behind the makeshift stone 'bed' he was on earlier. Wh-What, who am I hiding from. Th-There's no way this is real, why the fuck am I so scared right now.

He tugged at one of his sleeves, hardly even believing they were there.

S-Stop it, Malik. His mind urged him. You're a man, dammit, men don't hide in the face of fear! Stop hiding. STOP HIDING!

No. No, why is he thinking that now. His father burned those words into his skull, just as he'd burned the scars into his back. As much as he felt he should agree with them he just—He was so scared, it was impossible. He couldn't stop hiding, he just couldn't.

Malik wasn't even sure how long he'd been there. He hasn't heard any more crashing since before…did whatever or whoever was there finally leave? He felt like throwing up when he realized that the only option he had was to go check. Well. Either go check or starve in that corner for the rest of his life. And well. If he was going to die either way, might as well at least try.

He shakily stood, the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach growing worse. No. I need to get out of here! He once again placed his hand on the wall, to help guide him. Why was this place so dark? Surely it was more well lit when he was a child. Maybe that was the thing making him so skittish. It wouldn't be so bad if it was at least a little brighter.

He walked out of the room, stopping by a candle that was mounted on the wall. He figured that it might be a good idea to take with him…at least it would help him to see better. Even if by just a little.

Now if only he could god damn remember. There were so many tunnels… which way led to the outside? There was no use just standing here. He. He had to pick one.

He moved forward, placing his hand in front of the candle to keep it from going out.

It was…It was starting to come back to him again. Yes, yes, okay. It was just right up this way, right up this way! He could finally be out, in the sun again! He was almost free.

Then he smelled something.

No.

No, no, this was all wrong. NO! What made him think this was right? He—he knew where he was headed now, how did he think this was the way out? This was…that smell…

He raised the candle to light the room he'd just walked into.

There was a table. The table, that table! The metal bounds, the—the blood, his blood. This. This was the room where his father gave him the initiation. N-No. No, NO! He almost threw up, seeing his blood still crusted onto the table that way. There was no way it wasn't his, that was the sole purpose that this table was used for and he'd been the last one to receive these scars! He—He had to get out of here. He had to, now.

He whirled around with the intention of running, but what he saw nearly made him scream.

His…his…it was…

He dropped the candle and both hands flew over his mouth. H-His—His father was— He turned away, crouching on the floor, trying his hardest not to vomit.

This was just.

Why was he here.

Why was he seeing this.

Why, WHY?

"Mr. Dominant personality,"

N-No. What. NO! N-Not him. Malik coughed in response, wiping his mouth. M-Mariku. He must have been the one behind this, HE MUST HAVE! He turned his head, to look at the door, trying, trying, trying to keep his vision focused on Mariku and not—and not the rotting corpse of his father.

"Is there something wrong, my precious weaker self?" Mariku sneered, taking a step towards Malik.

Malik half screamed-half choked, and got on all fours, crawling backwards. "N-No, NO! Wh-Why are you here, why are we here? What did you do?"

Mariku hummed, walking over to Malik, cornering him until his back was pressed up against the side of the stone table. "I didn't do anything."

"THAT'S A LIE."

Mariku smirked. "Yeah, so what's your point." He raised a hand, running his finger along the side of Malik's face. "Heh heh, you're so fun to play with, you know? I saw you hiding back there like a little girl."

Malik's eyes widened and he quickly turned his head, biting Mariku's finger. He bit hard and Mariku growled before punching him with his free hand to get him to let go. "You little shit…!" He laughed suddenly, and Malik spat the blood out of his mouth, glaring up at him. "You. Little. Shit. You think this was bad? I'll make you regret that. Although, I have no doubt in my mind that you already do."

Malik opened his mouth to argue but it quickly turned into a whimper as Mariku grabbed the hair on the top of his head, pulling him upwards. "This is going to be so fun! I can't wait, Malik, I really can't. I've been wanting to do this to you for a long time. And now that everything's finally 'blown over' with Battle City, what more of an opportunity could I have asked for?"

Malik squeezed his eyes shut, his entire scalp burning. "L-Let go, let go. P-Please, let go, I'll do anything."

Mariku glared, dropping him onto the table. "You're fucking pathetic. Giving in already, weaker half? What happened to all that confidence you had? Even I thought you'd put up more of a fight than this." Mariku laughed, raising his hand and hitting the other boy so hard, he toppled over on the table. "YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Mariku screamed at him. "Heh. Not even worth my time." He sighed, withdrawing his hand, and choosing to examine his nails. "Yet. Here I am."

Malik shivered on the table, pushing himself back upwards into a sitting position. "Why."

"Why?" Mariku repeated. "Why, what, Malik?" He almost smiled.

Malik looked up, "Why are you doing this? I killed you."

Mariku stared blankly for a second before a huge grin broke through on his face. "You—" He laughed quietly, getting louder and louder with each passing second. "You though you— Oh my god."

He continued laughing while Malik just stared. What…was with him… Malik knew he was insane but—

Mariku quieted down before asking, "You thought you killed me? You. The weaker, more pathetic, not to mention dependent, half of our soul, killed ME?" He laughed again, not at much as before, but it still managed to fill Malik with even more anger than what he'd already felt. "You're so funny, Mr. Dominant Personality. That was a good one." He sighed again, and it sounded almost…happy? "As to why I'm doing this…well. Shouldn't you of all people be the one to know that?"

Malik stayed quiet. He was sure he was shaking, he just—he was so…pissed. Nothing Mariku had said was true! NOTHING! B-But. Then…what other reason would he have for being here…? He was—No. None of this made sense.

Mariku stepped away from him and Malik held in a sigh of relief. Walking over to where their father was slouched against the wall, he kneeled next to it. "This guy," He smiled, grabbing the back of the dead man's head, forcing it to stare up in Malik's direction. Malik looked away, feeling vomit rise in his throat again. "…Is in for a show." He finished, smirking. His pearly white teeth gleamed in the candle light.

Malik blinked as his body went cold. What kind of show, he wanted to ask. He thought against it as Mariku stood up. He had a feeling he'd find out very soon.

"Malik." Mariku began, as the teen looked up. He had to do a double-take. Wh-Where did he get that blade from. He—He didn't see it anywhere before. Some sort of shadow magic?

"N-No," He choked out. "N-No, Mariku, please."

"Please? What is it you want, Malik? Want me to cut you open, and watch your pretty insides drip out? Want me to cut off an arm? A leg? Both?" Mariku grinned, staring at Malik with wild eyes.

"N-NO! S-STOP! Please! Let this end, LET THIS END! I'm scared, Mariku, I'M SCARED! Is that what you wanted me to admit? I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything that happened, I'm sorry for imprisoning you, I'm sorry for—"

"SHUT UP!" Mariku screamed, dropping the knife to the floor. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP! You're not supposed to say that! You're supposed to fucking fight, why are you—Why are you—?"

Malik stared, wide eyed. If Mariku didn't want that, what did he want? He wanted him to fight? How the hell could he fight, like this?

"That's it, Malik. That's it." Mariku picked the knife back up, advancing on Malik. "I'm taking what I came for, and getting out of here. I. I can't stand to even look at you, you fuck."

Taking what he came for? Wh-What was it that he came for? Malik inched back on the table, watching the knife with fearful eyes. "M-Mariku—"

Mariku grabbed the cloth Malik was wearing and ripped the top of it open using the knife. Malik screamed and thrashed, kicking and punching to get away. Mariku grinned. So this was all he had to do.

Mariku had his head turned after Malik landed a decently good punch on him. "You're fighting. You're finally, FINALLY FIGHTING, THIS IS GREAT!"

Malik screamed, kicking at him some more before he moved his hand backwards, sliding off the back of the table.

Mariku grabbed Malik by his hair before he fell and pulled him back upwards, going back at the cloth with the knife.

"Mr. Dominant Personality," He grinned, as he finally cut away the last of the cloth, leaving Malik completely exposed. "You know," He ran the knife along Malik's body, not pressing deep enough to cut; just testing the waters. "You really are very beautiful."

Malik stared in shock. What. Did he just. Call him. What. "M-Mariku wh—FUCK,"

Mariku smiled widely, withdrawing the knife from the cut he'd just made. "You're mine, you know." He continued, as though nothing had happened. "No one else can touch you. Only me."

Malik didn't even know how to react. Just. Just what was his Darker self going on about? He was sure that the hatered he felt for him was mutual, so why—Malik screamed as Mariku made another cut.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Mariku taunted. "Your father would be so proud." He jerked a thumb backwards, and Malik couldn't help but follow it, grimacing as he realized he was sitting here. Naked. In front of—In front of— he almost threw up again.

Mariku laughed. "You're so fucking weak. I can't believe this." He grabbed Malik's lower part hard, and he screamed. "Yes, Malik, go on. Scream. SCREAM. Do you think that's going to help you? Scream your throat fucking raw, nothing's going to stop this." He started going up and down and Malik sat up, trying to push him away with all his might.

"Are you shitting me." He grinned, "Don't make me have you use these binds here, on the table, Malik."

"G-Get away. Th-This is enough, stop." Malik said quietly, trying to hold back a sob. Th-There was no use in resisting. He wasn't strong enough. He just wasn't fucking strong enough, and he hated himself for it.

"Why the long face, Malik?" Mariku smiled, squeezing him harder. Malik gasped, letting out a small whimper. I-It hurt, it hurt so bad, fuck. Mariku's smile widened at his reaction. He let up on his grasp, going back to smooth, steady up and down motions. "Do you like that, Malik? Do you?"

Malik said nothing. What was the point, he wanted him to stop, GOD, he wanted him to stop. But, he wasn't. He wasn't sure exactly how far Mariku would go with this, but. He could only pray it ended soon.

Mariku didn't look too pleased at Malik's lack of reaction. He sighed, trying to retain his composure. No matter. Malik will be screaming again, very soon. "Are you ready, Malik? I'm ready. I hope you're ready too, because to be honest, I can't wait any longer. I really can't."

Small tears dripped from Malik's eyes when he blinked. Ready? Fuck. Mariku didn't mean—

He was harshly flipped over, his hands quickly bound down to the stone. It all happened so fast, Malik nearly forgot how to scream. He heard the ruffled sounds of clothing behind him and he dry sobbed. Why was this happening. He knew what was coming, Now he knew what was coming. Wh-Why was Mariku doing this. He hated it, he hated him! He clenched his eyes shut as his hips were firmly grabbed and something was thrust into him, and it began moving around.

Malik screamed again, his eyes snapping open. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it fucking HURT. He tugged mercilessly on the bounds that held his hands down, and Mariku laughed, shoving another finger into him. "ISN'T THIS GREAT, MALIK?" He wiggled them around, scissoring and stretching, doing a half-assed job at preparing him. "You're so lucky, Malik." Mariku continued softly. "So, so lucky to have someone like me, you know that? You really ought to count your blessings."

Malik stopped struggling; moving only made it worse. He was almost getting somewhat used to the searing pain in his entrance, and he couldn't have been more relieved when Mariku finally removed his hands from him.

That relief, however was swallowed up instantly by an even larger fear. N-No, he's never done this with anyone before. He didn't want his first time to be with…with—Mariku, of all people. "Mariku, please," He croaked out once more in an attempt to get him to stop.

He went completely ignored, disgusted when he heard Mariku start panting, moaning and groaning in pleasure. O-Oh god. Oh god, no. He was—He must have been hardening himself to—

Mariku grabbed Malik's hips once more, deeming himself ready. "Malik." The way Mariku said his name almost made him sick. "Malik…I really do love you."

He stuck it in. Not all the way, but just enough. Malik saw only a mix of red and white. Th-The pain, oh my god, it was unbearable. He turned his head, resting his cheek on the table. Clenching his eyes shut, he tried not to focus on it. Anything. A-Anything was better than this. Mariku pushed in all the way, and Malik opened his eyes, not even bothering to try stopping the tears that came.

No. The only thing in his line of vision now, was his father. His father. Cold dead eyes staring at them as they did…as they did—this.

Mariku pulled out all the way before quickly shoving back in. "S-So good," He grunted. He repeated the motion again. And again. And again, moving faster each time until he found some sort of rhythm.

Malik tried glancing behind him as best as he could; he wasn't able to see much, but he could tell there was blood. He could feel it pooling out of him with each thrust Mariku made. To be honest he couldn't even tell if the blood that was under him was from the initiation or…this.

Th-This didn't feel good at all. It just. Hurt. Everywhere.

"M-Malik…!" Mariku breathed, his thrusts beginning to slow. "S-Scream, Malik. Scream."

Malik bit his lips. No. If that was what Mariku decided would push him over the edge—He'd rather never talk again.

Mariku's thrusts quickened once more, and he dug his nails into Malik's sides. "Scream, damn you!"

Again, Malik was silent and Mariku quickly reached for the knife, making a sloppy cut into Malik's back, right across his scars.

Malik bit his tongue, but he just. Everything was too much. He couldn't do it anymore. He just couldn't. He clenched his eyes shut and screamed loudly as Mariku finally climaxed, emptying his seed into him.

He stood there, panting for a moment before he finally withdrew. "That was good, Malik." He said between breaths. "Very. Very. Good."

Malik opened his eyes and once again saw his father. He was. He was filled with such shame. How could he have let this happen. Everything hurt so bad. He felt disgusting. No. He felt lower than disgusting.

Mariku was gone. He was finally gone, and Malik couldn't have been happier. He saw dark spots cloud his vision, and he closed his eyes again, allowing himself to black out.

Malik's eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling.

…Of his room.

It was.

It was a dream, after all?

He shot straight up in bed, feeling for his clothes and almost crying when he felt no pain, cuts or bruises whatsoever.

He tore the blankets off himself and dashed out of the room, wiping his face as tears began to form.

He was so happy!

He slammed himself against Rishid's door and began knocking, kicking, anything to get him to open.

Rishid finally unlocked the door, and opened it. "…Mali—"

"RISHID!" Malik, unable to control himself, jumped on the taller man, wrapping his arms around his older brother's neck and sobbing into his shoulder.

Rishid stood, shocked for a moment, before his expression softened and he picked Malik up like one would a child, and closed the door.

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