Bite and Burn
By LadyDeathStrike1
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or X-Men: Evolution. I do own the story idea, including the Shiindi and the Han-Mu, they do not actually exist in the world. I also own the idea of the organization CARE for the sole purpose of this story.
Summary: Several years ago an organization following the work of Adolph Hitler attempted to start another international genocide of races deemed inferior. The range of victims, however, stretched even further than the preceding hatred-fueled project. It stretched to certain groups of people such as the Shiindi people of Egypt and the Han-Mu of Japan. The second Holocaust, however, was cut short by agencies of the United States of America and those of Germany, Poland and even as far as Egypt and Afghanistan. All locations of concentration and death camps were located and shut down; the main leaders of the organization were arrested, though a few members are still missing.
Shortly after, a new phenomenon was brought to the attention of everyone in the world, mutants. Seventeen-year-old Atemu Tor from Cairo, Egypt, understands from his pre-teen years his own mutation, and goes to Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters in Bayville to understand himself, and his life-consuming goal: to find his best friend.
Notes: AU, X-Men:Evolution post-Apocalypse cross-over, shonen-ai (limited to kissing and touching, nothing beyond). Includes violence, situations involving homeless minors and prejudice.
Pairings: AtemuxYugi, mentions of BakuraxRyou and MarikxMalik. ScottJean, RemyRogue, KurtAmanda, AleX23, pairings later to come…
Chapter One: Prologue
January 13, 1998
Area 5, location: Germany,
The rain was merciless and needle-sharp as it pounded upon the shuffling crowd of miserable people. The group was enormous, a couple hundred at the very least. Every one of them from the oldest man to the tiniest infant was blue-lipped from cold, shivering and garbed in clothes that had seen better months. Guards hurried them along the road of sharp rocks and gravel with their guns, their usually crisp uniforms drenched and their eyes squinted against the rain. The Nazi emblem was emblazoned on their fronts, their guns clicking slightly at their hips, their boots crunching gravel.
Looming ahead of the party was a building that looked very much like a concrete fortress. Looming square towers stood like somber sentinels, flanking the main block of concrete building. A strong barred gate was the only entrance into the building; the rest was surrounded by high fences lined with barbed wire.
The closer the group moved towards the prison, the louder the women sobbed and the heavier the men sighed. Little babies began to cry, and children started to shake so badly they could hardly walk. One man fell to his knees, but a guard quickly struck across the back of the head with the end of his rifle, shouting at the poor man in German.
The group finally reached the gates. One guard with a medal pinned to his front as well as a black umbrella spoke rapidly into a walkie-talkie, bending over it to shield it from the rain. The gates groaned, and then the slid slowly, almost mockingly so, to the side. Despite the sudden chill that had rippled through the colony of victims, the guards began to shout and push men, women and children into the camps. There was a large group of inspectors standing at the gates, and one by one they sorted through the group. Some were directed with force into the prison while others were led down another gravel road to where there was a giant wagon to transport other prisoners to Area 7.
Women began to scream when their children were forcefully torn away from their arms, the pounding of the rain magnifying the sound ten fold. All at once more women were screaming and men were shouting both in words and incoherently as they gripped their wives and children desperately. Soon a few stray gunshots sounded and the blood of desperate, struggling women and men stained the gray gravel road black. The Nazi guards were shouting to each other, the inspectors flanked by guards for protection as they painstakingly continued their inspection and sorting.
In the middle of it all, two little boys huddled amidst the tall bodies around them. One was roughly ten-years-old, the smaller one not much younger. They had no mother clutching them to her breast or any father holding them tight. They only had each other. They were strikingly similar, despite the slight difference in height. Both had a shock of spiked raven hair outlined with red, though the taller boy's outline was more of a harsh crimson while the smaller one had a magenta color, and jagged blonde bands hung over their foreheads and framed their faces. The taller one had sharp eyes of crimson while the boy he was holding so tightly was wide-eyed with violet irises.
"Yami, I'm scared." The smaller one whimpered, burying his face in his friend's jacket front. The taller one, Yami, held his companion closer.
"It's ok, aibou, we'll get out of this. You'll see, Yugi." Yami said, sounding surer than he felt. He eyed the guards around them carefully, moving both of them deeper and deeper into the crowd.
"Yami, I'm scared." The little boy, Yugi, tugged urgently on Yami's sleeve. "You won't leave me, will you?"
"No, I won't." Yami said stubbornly, looking Yugi in the eye. "I won't." He repeated. Yugi nodded shakily, his small hand gripping Yami's. Fate, however, had other plans.
One guard squinted through the rain and saw the two huddled boys. Not bothering to direct them to the inspectors in the melee the people were causing, he called for another guard to help him. Yami gripped Yugi so close to himself it was hard to tell when one boy ended and the other began. The guard grabbed them both by their collars, one in each hand, and dragged them to the inspectors.
A clean shaven man with glasses hurriedly checked over the boys, eyeing the screaming crowd. Roughly he turned Yugi's face and checked Yami's eyes. He spoke rapidly to two guards, who each took one of the boys, hauling them over their shoulders. Taken by surprise, Yami lost his hold on his best friend, only managing to grip Yugi's fingers desperately. Yugi screamed, struggling vainly against the stronger guard.
"Yami! Yami!" Yugi cried, reaching out to his only companion. Yami kicked, bit, punched, but it was futile. The guard holding him, struck him on the back of the head.
"Aibou…" Yami groaned, as the guard hauled him towards the wagon. Yugi was still screaming even after he was taken behind the bars.
"Atemu!" Yugi finally called out desperately. Yami, or rather Atemu, finally snapped awake. In one last attempt, Atemu reached out towards the retreating figure of his only friend. The dull pounding ache in his head rose to a crescendo, drowning his thoughts, all of them focused on one person.
"Aibou."
It had happened in a mere moment. Women screamed louder as black tongues of flame exploded near the gates to Area 5, crawling and licking at the wires. Guards scrambled, shouting and waving at their uniforms frantically, trying to bat away the flames that miraculously stayed lit in the rain. The fire grew higher and higher, rearing like a black, intangible beast ready to strike.
The guard finally struck Atemu on the back of the head again, the boy collapsed, and the flames instantly vanished, leaving no trace. Little Yugi sobbed quietly as he watched his friend fall to the ground before being thrown on the wagon like a rag doll.
December 17, 2001
Area 7
Life before hell was unconceivable. Atemu Tor could vaguely recall warm arms, sunshine and a set of sparkling amethyst eyes before all the darkness, the cold water burning skin off his face and even before the screaming strain his muscles suffered day after day of labor. Those memories were like a dream, or rather, a dream within a dream. A small daydream smothered and strangled to the ground by an everlasting nightmare. The days of strangers plunging his face into cold water, questioning him for answers he did not know, those days of ash-ridden air, the stench of burning corpse flesh blocking out anything fresh, were all that he could distinctly remember. Those days, those moonless nights, were all he knew.
That was the reason why he was so confused when all the victims of Area 7 sat out in the courtyard, outside of the cells, and American soldiers were marching towards the prison.
Numbly, the people watched as the U.S soldiers marched into the prison. Some of the prisoners were whispering that they had seen the Boss, the head of Area 7, led away in a large van, handcuffed. Not knowing what to do, and not really caring, most of the people there sat on the cold ground, snow falling lightly. One U.S officer stood on a small platform with a megaphone, and he began to speak in English.
"You have been liberated. Your time of horror and imprisonment is over, you will be escorted to one of our CARE centers where our agents will do their very best to help you in any way possible, both in readjusting to the lives you were taken from as well as settling into new ones." The officer was met with silence. One frail, wispy-haired woman sitting closest to the platform stood shakily and tugged gently, like a child, on the officer's pant leg. His hardened eyes behind his glasses softened at the sight of the once beautiful woman reduced to a shadow of her former self.
"I-Is it over, mister?" She spoke in broken English, her dark eyes shining with hope. Unable to form words, the officer nodded jerkily. The woman stood frozen before suddenly raising her hands and head heavenwards. She shouted something in her own tongue before suddenly collapsing in a crumpled heap. Paramedics rushed to her, but Atemu knew from everything around him that she was dead.
One by one people began to stand to their feet, supporting each other. Atemu wrapped his arms around himself, shakily getting to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young American soldier standing nearby; looking for the entire world like an awkward teenager just turned man. Atemu turned to him, and the blonde soldier's attention was immediately on him. The soldier was perhaps only a few years older than himself.
"Sir, is it really over?" Atemu asked in little English he knew. The soldier seemed to sense this because he only nodded with a small smile. Atemu could feel something break inside, and he began to shake. He felt cold, scared and, above all, hopeful. He looked to the sky from which snow was falling gently. A pair of amethyst eyes flashed in his mind's eye again, and they seemed to banish the tortured thoughts of the past years to darker corners of his mind. He felt like he had woken up from a deep sleep, the nightmare had lost its hold. He looked down at his callused and blistered hands.
"What year is it?" Atemu asked the soldier. The young man was hesitant to answer for fear of the language barrier.
"2001." The young man replied. Atemu bit back a gasp. The dark days had been so long he had forgotten to count the days. Three years had passed. The eyes flashed in his mind again. A name was swimming in his head, but it was like trying to catch smoke.
"H-Hey you dropped this." The soldier said hastily. Atemu frowned staring at the ragged piece of paper in the soldier's hand for he did not recognize it. Taking it, he bit back a cry at the face in the picture.
It was…it was…that name…Yu- no, wait…He strained to remember. Amethyst eyes…wide eyes…hair like his…
"Atemu!" A little boy's voice screamed in his head. Atemu instantly recognized the voice at the same instant he remembered.
"Aibou!" He cried, clutching the small torn photograph of a smiling boy, his own picture self holding the purple-eyed boy.
"Aye-boo?" The soldier asked bewilderedly. Atemu, seized by a sudden panic, clutching the small Polaroid picture, looked around wildly.
"Aibou? Aibou?" He called. His knees felt weak, something was burning in his throat so much that he nearly gagged. Then the memory wormed its way into his mind again, the gates…the wagon…
The fire.
"Are you alright?" The soldier managed gasp out before Atemu suddenly bolted for the fence, ignoring the barbed wire. He climbed the fence, unaware the group of soldiers shouting for him to calm down, that he didn't need to escape, that he was free.
Atemu climbed to the very top of the fence, his hands and forearms bleeding from the slashes the barbed gouged into his naturally bronze skin. He poked his head above the fence and glared at the expanse of ground laden with snow. The land that did not forfeit any sign of his partner.
"Aibou! Where are you, aibou?" He called in Egyptian save for that one treasured Japanese word. "I'm going to find you, aibou! I will, I promise! Do you hear me! I promise, I'm going to find you, aibou!" He screamed; his words were indiscernible to the soldiers. They could only watch with halting caution as the bleeding teenager jumped from the fence and collapsed on the ground, which was covered in a fine layer of snow.
"I'm going to find you. I'm going to find you, aibou." He sobbed into his bloody hands. "Find you, aibou. Aibou." He shuddered violently. The young blonde soldier knelt beside him and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.
Atemu would later learn the soldier's name was Gerard Fieldstone, and he would be one of his greatest companions in the years to come.
To Be Continued…
Note: I dunno if I'll continue this. The idea was bugging me and I had to write it. I might just update it later for fun. Tell me what you think. And if you have any information about what happened at the Holocaust (I'm not that educated) please feel free to e-mail me about any corrections or just stuff. Either way I might just end up deleting this story cause I have no time (bangs head).
This is also a rough draft so…if it's weird I'm sorry.
If you read you must review…please?
Thank you.