A/N: OH MY GOD IT FINALLY LOADED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is my Illusionshipping (MaixMarik) entry for Computerfreak101's YGO writing contest. The parts with Marik take place after his and Mai's duel when he sends her to the shadow realm, just for clarification. Enjoy!
Mirror Mirror
Five years old with pearly white teeth that sparkle in the dim lighting of the room. Long golden hair that falls over and around perfect dimpled cheeks, accenting plush rosy lips. Violet eyes framed by luscious black lashes which flutter faintly as a warm hand brushes a stray curl away from unmarred skin.
"Look in the mirror darling. What is it you see?"
A slight crease of confusion along the flawless brow.
"Myself?"
A chuckle clutched between the maws of a cosmetically enhanced smile.
"No my dear."
A breath of warmth to ghost across a prematurely diamond studded ear.
"Perfection."
Nine years old lying upon the stairwell, surrounded by the newest pile of laundry. Long golden hair that dangles wet and limp around flushed and sweaty cheeks. Thick black lashes to catch and hold the tears swimming in lifeless violet eyes as small trembling hands feel the throbbing patch of assaulted skin upon the angelic face.
"I told you not to drop them you wench."
Familiar venom in the voice.
"I didn't mean to."
Faintly a whisper from between trembling rosy lips.
"Of course you didn't."
Ferocious fingers to grip the frail arm and drag the struggling form.
"Look in the mirror darling. What is it you see?"
Terror. Hopelessness. Bruises. Defeat. Tears.
"Myself."
A cruel snigger of laughter brought forth on alcohol drenched breath.
"No my dear."
Nails to bite and dig harshly into vulnerable skin.
"All you will ever be."
She's older now, kneeling upon the floor of a giant hourglass. Above her, white sand slowly trickles down upon her head. She catches it in her hands, feeling the sediments glide between her pale fingers.
If this is death, it isn't so bad.
She sighs, remembering the events of only moments before.
Battle. Desperation. Courage. Triumph. Defeat. Lightening. Falling…
She slowly blows the sand up off her hand, the white flakes dancing around in the air before her.
It is then that she sees them.
Along the glass walls that surround her. Violet eyes full of terror. Long golden hair falling around a petrified and perfect face…
Mirrors. Her reflection gazes back at her from every angle. Anguished eyes peering down upon the quivering form from all sides.
And suddenly she's five years old once more, with pearly white teeth and a perfect dimpled smile. And her mother's snake tongue whispering furtively in her diamond stunned ear…
She screams.
Thin fingers began tearing at blonde locks. Tears streaming down from horrified mauve irises. Nails clawing at flawless skin, each swipe sinking deeper and deeper into the flesh which does not bleed. Which remains faultless and lovely in the endless reflections.
Pain radiates from each gouge of the manicured cuticles, and she cries out from the absences of markings. Of cuts. Of blood. The walls close in around her, each porcelain image within their depths smiling sweetly down upon her.
The sand has risen, the level now reaching her delicate shoulders. The stream of white sediments from above cascade down upon golden locks, blocking out the dim light. But as the rest of the world slips away the reflections remain. Beautiful. Impeccable.
Perfect.
It is cold where she lays, the half asleep mind notes vaguely, palms splaying outwards upon the cool surface. The ground feels hard and smooth beneath the lazy ministrations of her fingertips. The air carries the wet, heavy stench of meat left out in the heat for too long.
The smell bothers her lazy dreams. She wrinkles her slender nose, turning away from the offending aroma and burying her face deeper into her plushy cushion of golden hair. But she can still taste the rank air in her slightly opened mouth.
The suffocating sink of it all wakes her completely from her half slumber. Sitting up, she blinks her thick lashes, gazing around the room, if the space can really be called such.
There is nothing surrounding her but endless whirling shadows. The ground is nothing but empty blackness. Insubstantial, as though she is somehow levitating and will fall away into the endless abyss beneath her at any moment. Around and above her seated form, the blankets of night churn, thick layers of violet and ebony smoke which twist and intertwine around her.
She reaches out a pale hand to touch the solid looking substance, but the darkness slips through her fingers without touch. Without presence.
She gazes out into the endless night, which she cannot feel, and hears a sound. A strange, deep, echoing noise rich with the trill of insanity. The baritone drawl shakes with eerie mirth, a perverse imitation of laughter. Both cold and warm, the ghostly chuckle reaches her across the void, bringing with it the reek of decayed flesh.
Something about the laughter freezes the blood within her veins. Her every instinct is demands that she lift her sculpted legs and flee from the terrible sound, and yet she cannot move from the spot. She cannot even blink.
The insane laughter slowly grows louder in volume, the stench in the air thicker. Gradually the outline of a figure appears within the mass of swirling shadows. Male or female, blonde or brunette, nothing can be told for the mysterious person stands at a distance, only allowing the very outline of their form to penetrate the teeming mass of ebony clouds.
And suddenly the eerie chuckle that has filed the indefinite-confined space vanishes. The air is suddenly much colder than before. A chill creeps up her spine. "Who's there?!" she calls out towards the insubstantial figure.
It doesn't reply.
The being scares her. She wants it to leave. She wants to drift back into her lazy dreams upon the cool floor. Wants to escape the chocking, rotting stench.
Then suddenly the stranger moves. Brought forth on the breath of shadows is a man swathed in a long violet cloak which seems to be entirely composed of mist surrounding them. His eyes are dark, wild. Insane. He gives her a crooked smile, his front canines sparkling in the gloom. And she recognizes him.
"Marik." She hisses venomously, one hand shooting to the deck holder at her waist before realizing that the belt and her duel disk have both been removed.
He laughs at her pitiful attempts of aggression. "Hello woman."
"I have a name." she growls back at him, violet eyes a light with fury.
"Oh really?" Marik asked, raising a dark brown eyebrow, that familiar, amused smirk secured squarely upon his face. "What is it?"
She opens her perfect mouth to retort but says nothing. She cannot remember.
He stands across from her, the same distance he's been for the past few hours. Or maybe days. Years even. Time doesn't seem relevant in this … this nameless nothingness.
She simply glares across at him, half angry, half terrified of what he is planning to do.
The silence stretches on. Then finally…
"Why do you hate yourself?"
The perfect brow furrows.
"I don't hate myself."
"LIES!" he shoots back at her so ferociously that she nearly falls over from the force of his statement. "Only cowards and victims are afraid of looking at themselves! I have seen your soul, woman. I know you are lying to me! No secrets can be kept from me while you remain under my control."
Another shiver races down her spine. She attempts to stand her ground, retorting, with a quiver in her voice "I-I d-don't hate myself."
"Liiiiaaaarrrr!" he chants at her in a sing song voice. "I thought I just told you to tell me the truth. What a shame." He cocks his head at her and grins with his crooked, crazy flare. Then he vanishes.
She gasps as his form disappears, trembling in the absence of the heat his presence had brought to the area.
The smell of spoiled meat still lingers.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine Jounouchi, really."
"He…he didn't do anything to you in there did he?"
"No. I'm… fine."
It was a lie.
Black smoke billowed around his form.
"Why do you hate yourself?"
He's walking closer to her, his body morphing from the shadows that engulfed them.
"I-I d-don't hate myself."
"Liar." He whispers, so close now that she can taste his rank breath."
"G-get away from me."
He steps nearer, lifting her perfect chin to peer into the misty violet eyes.
"Who has broken you before I ever had the chance?"
She doesn't respond
She awoke to the sound of her alarm clock screaming its insistence into her ear. Shivering violently, she gently presses down the button to silence the little machine, before heading off to the restroom to get ready for the day.
A sheet covers the mirror as she enters. Like it always does.
She applies paste to her toothbrush and begins her morning ritual. The beat of her heart matches the pulse of her scrubbing.
"Why do you hate yourself?"
She spits into the sink. Crimson mixes with the white paste. She lifts a finger to her mouth, puzzled. The pale digit comes away covered in scarlet. Blood.
"I don't hate myself."
She looks down at her little red finger before her violet eyes trailed upwards to gaze at the sheet covering the mirror.
"LIES!"
She clasps the white cloth, staining it with faded crimson. She yanks the blanket downwards. Her reflection gazes back at her.
Five years old with pearly white teeth that sparkle in the dim lighting of the room.
She stares at herself, terror gripping at her soul.
Nine years old lying upon the stairwell, trembling hands feeling the newest patch of assaulted skin.
She reaches a trembling hand outwards to touch the glass, looking into petrified violet eyes.
"Look in the mirror darling. What is it you see?"
The glass is cool beneath her fingers. Like the floor of Marik's chamber.
"Myself?"
She pulls back her fist, full of sudden hatred. Tears make wet treks down her rosy cheeks.
"All you will ever be."
Her fist collides with the glass, shattering the mirror. Cracks spread outwards from the impact, like ripples on water. The image of the beautiful woman with long golden hair, brilliant violet eyes and perfect rosy lips distorts.
"I have a name."
"Oh really? What is it?"
"My name is Mai." She whispers to the silence around her. She pulls her fist away from mirror. Shards of glass protrude from her hand, crimson streaks flowing down her arm. Like her limb is crying tears of blood. But she feels no pain.
"Why do you hate yourself?"
And suddenly there is deep, insane laughter reverberating in her mind, and the stink of rotten meat lingers in the air.
Mai smiles.
"Look in the mirror darling. What is it you see?"
"Myself?"
"No. Perfection."
A/N: I hope that made some kind of sense… I loved the idea, but I don't know if it got across so well… Oh whatever. At least I could finally post it!!!! Please Review!