This is a very dark one-shot inspired by the song 'Mz Hyde' by Halestorm. Lyrics are in bold if you wish to read them, but they aren't essential to understanding the story. This is the first time I've ever tried to write anything like this so I would greatly appreciate some feedback.

Warnings: Blood, abuse, rape, triggers, death, generally dark.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh or the song 'Mz Hyde'.

Set Me Free

In the daylight, I'm your sweetheart

Your goody two-shoes prude is a work of art

But you don't know me, and soon you won't forget

Bad as can be yeah, you know I'm not so innocent

Bakura had been instantly drawn to the tall, tanned stranger at the bar. He had been sitting there alone with a drink, his blonde hair falling over his face, gold jewellery glinting on his arms and a posture that screamed 'don't look at me'. Naturally Bakura was drawn to a challenge, so he had approached and offered to buy the man a drink. The reaction he got had surprised him, the blonde had jerked away from him with a look of terror in his violet eyes, as though he'd expected someone else.

Bakura had held his arms up in surrender and smiled before repeating the question. This time, the tanned man had eyed him warily before accepting, and so Bakura had ordered for him and taken the seat next to him. That had been his first mistake.

They had spoken, and Bakura had learned the man's name was Marik, and he came from Egypt. This had interested Bakura no end as his speciality was Ancient Egypt, and so he had bought Marik and himself more drinks until they were both tipsy.

It was around this point that Bakura had suggested he and Marik get out of there and go somewhere more private. That had been the second mistake. Marik's eyes had glazed over and his previous smile clouded into one of fear. Bowing his head, he had said that he knew it wasn't a good idea. Bakura had scoffed, he could feel the chemistry between them, how could it not be a good idea? But Marik had insisted, saying it was too dangerous and nobody else was going to get hurt because of him. Before Bakura could have a chance to question further, the Egyptian had bolted, out of the door faster than you could say 'wait!'.

Bakura had headed home then, confused and intrigued. He'd wanted to know what had the tanned man so scared. And so he'd gone back the following night. Third mistake.

Better be beware I go bump in the night

Devil-may-care with a lust for life

And I know you can't resist this

You know you are so addicted

Boy you'd better run for your life!

As expected, he'd found Marik in the same place as last night. It was expected because Marik had told him he was often there: Bakura had cautiously asked if Marik was an alcoholic; the blonde had not answered. Bakura had approached him again with the offer of a drink, and once again Marik had jerked away before recognition kicked in and he accepted. Tonight, Bakura had noticed the dark circles under the purple eyes, and the slight redness of the tanned jaw. He thought twice about asking the cause considering how shy Marik was, but later in the night, after a few drinks, he'd dared to broach the subject.

Once again the reaction had been one of fear. Marik's eyes had widened then narrowed and he'd muttered an excuse before bolting again like a spooked horse. Bakura had sighed, downed his drink and left too. He had come back the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that one. Every one a mistake. He'd been determined to break whatever was keeping Marik so afraid.

It had taken time to get the fragile blonde to trust him beyond a casual acquaintance. They would talk and drink together until the fear and mistrust faded from Marik's eyes, and Bakura would then attempt to convince Marik they ought to leave together. Each time, the Egyptian would instantly become fearful, a closed look would appear in his eyes and he would leave almost straight after, often clutching his head. Bakura had soon learned that he would receive the same reaction each time, so he'd stopped pressing the matter.

The third night he had refrained from asking was the night Marik told him about the voice. In a terrified whisper, he'd told Bakura of his evil alter ego that had forced its way in and used his body to do terrible things. It whispered to him at night, tortured his mind and destroyed anyone who tried to get close to Marik.

Most of the time it remained locked away in the dim recesses of Marik's mind, but there was no way to control it when it had its will set on destruction. It would physically take over the Egyptian's body and not stop until it got what it wanted, and that was why Marik could never get close enough to someone to take them home, never fully enjoy what life had to offer. The voice would never allow him to love anyone for his whole life.

Welcome to the nightmare in my head

Say hello to something scary

The monster in your bed

Just give in and you won't be sorry

Welcome to my other side,

Hello it's Mz Hyde!

Bakura had remained silent as Marik told him this. He'd wished for it to be some sort of sick joke, but there'd been real fear in the boy's eyes, as well as truth. Bakura now knew the reason behind Marik's reluctance, and why he often clutched his head as he ran from the bar. The voice was threatening to steal his body and destroy.

Even though Bakura had known the truth, he hadn't cared. He had wanted Marik for over a month, and now he knew the reason for the boy's odd behaviour he'd wanted to protect him from it. If Marik was scared of his inner demon, the demon had to be dealt with. And so Bakura had finally persuaded Marik to leave with him. Despite Marik's warnings and protests, Bakura had taken his arm and pulled him out of the door. This had been the biggest mistake. He had angered the parasite in Marik's head.

They had made it to Marik's apartment without incident, and with one final attempt at convincing Bakura to leave- which failed- Marik had unlocked the door and led him inside. They had barely made it to the living room before Bakura had kissed Marik. And Marik had moaned, because his demon had never allowed this- never allowed Marik to have contact with anyone other than itself. Marik loved it. He had quickly progressed from the kissing, ignoring the threatening growl coming from the back of his mind. As Bakura had pushed him back onto the sofa, he'd missed the slight tugging at the side of his head, the warning of what was to come. He'd let his guard down and now the nightmare was forcing its way into reality, ready to make its thoughts known. He hadn't even had time to scream.

Bakura had been distracted with the hem of Marik's shirt when he heard the snarl. Looking up, he had caught himself looking at not Marik, but what could be described only as pure evil pretending to be Marik. Bakura had shot away from the thing, which had laughed and followed him with an almost lazy stride. It had told him that he must pay for what he had done, that Marik was his and his alone. It said that it was the true form of Marik, born of the hate and anger that was burned into his mind, and that the other Marik was the imposter, the one that wasn't real.

Bakura had only had a moment to react as the spiky-haired parasite with evil eyes had grabbed a knife and rushed at him. Luckily Bakura was a thief and had therefore been quick enough to evade and sprint away from the darkness. He had raced for the door and slammed it behind him just in time to hear the knife hit the other side, accompanied by a melodic, evil laugh.

Though he knew he would never forgive himself for leaving Marik with his nightmare, he had sprinted for home as fast as possible lest the demon think to follow and finish the job.

I can be the bitch, I can play the whore

Or your fairytale princess who could ask for more

A touch of wicked, pinch of risqué

Good girl gone bad my poison is your remedy

Bakura hadn't told anyone about the incident, had he done so they would have either laughed in his face or locked Marik up for good, depending on who he told. He had kept quiet about it to his housemate, Ryou, as he felt no need to trouble the younger boy. However, he had decided not to return to the bar for a few nights, for he was scared of rejection once again. He'd known Marik would never forgive himself or Bakura for causing the demon to come out, and Bakura couldn't forgive himself for leaving Marik trapped inside that thing.

He'd thought a lot over the next week about going back. He couldn't be sure if the Egyptian would even be there, for he had no idea how much control was needed to overcome the parasite's power, and there was always the distinct possibility that Marik would never want to talk to Bakura again in his life. Perhaps he had become a trigger for the voice, a danger sign that needed to be destroyed.

The internal debate had kept Bakura awake most nights- he became tired and unable to concentrate, so much so that he had been completely unprepared for the meeting. He had been heading through town on an errand for Ryou when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He had turned to see none other than Marik there. He had been bruised, cut and terrified but it was still Marik.

Before he had thought through the possible consequences, Bakura had grabbed the fragile boy and pulled him into a hug, apologising as though his life depended on it. Marik had pulled away after a moment and Bakura had got a good look at his face. He had been horrified to see the fresh cuts and bruises marring the boy's skin. It had looked as though the evil side of him had put him through hell.

Marik had smiled at him then, a distant, sad smile. Then he had proceeded to apologise to Bakura. He'd ignored the signs and put him in danger and Bakura had nearly been injured. From what he said Bakura had gathered that Marik could see what was going on when the evil entity took over, which was both a blessing and a curse.

Marik had suddenly stopped mid-word to hold his head in his hands, moaning, but instead of running away, Bakura had comforted him, told him it would be okay, even though there was no way it could be true. They had both known it was a lost cause. Yet they'd both agreed to meet again that evening in the bar, in a non-violent setting and certainly not alone. As Bakura watched Marik leave, he'd wondered when he'd begun caring about this boy, to the point where he was willing to put himself at risk for him. He'd sighed and headed home.

Better be scared, better be afraid

Now that the beast is out of the cage

And I know you, wanna risk it

And you know you are so addicted

Boy you'd better run for your life!

Welcome to the nightmare in my head

Say hello to something scary

The monster in your bed

Just give in and you won't be sorry

Welcome to my evil side, Hello it's Mz Hyde!

They'd met as planned that night. As soon as Bakura had sat down next to Marik he'd known something was wrong. The blonde's face had been shielded by his hair completely and he hadn't greeted Bakura. Instead he'd gestured to the barman to refill his glass and one more for Bakura. Bakura always paid for the first round- what was Marik doing?

He'd attempted to start a conversation with him as usual, but had been taken aback by his friend's abruptness. Marik had answered in monosyllables and eventually Bakura had given up, opting instead to stare at his drink. They had sat in silence for a while longer before Marik unexpectedly stood and held his hand out to Bakura, hair still covering his face.

Bakura had stood too and took the hand slowly, before questioning Marik's actions. The blonde hadn't answered before pulling him out of the door and into the streets. Bakura had followed, at a loss as to Marik's change of moods but unable to stop. They had reached Marik's apartment soon after, where the blonde unlocked the door and pulled Bakura in. The white haired man had stumbled forwards slightly and Marik had let go of his hand to lock the door. Then he had started laughing. And Bakura had realised his mistake.

I'm the spider crawling down your spine

Underneath your skin

I will gently violate your mind

Before I tuck you in.

Put on the blindfold there's no way to be sure

Which guy you'll get tonight!

He'd turned to see the evil being that possessed Marik stood before him, grinning as it pocketed the key to the door and moving slowly towards him. Bakura had turned and ran for his life. The being had let out a cry of delight before darting after him. It hadn't taken long for it to grab Bakura and tackle him to the floor. Bakura had fought but the entity had pinned him to the ground and straddled him.

He had then proceeded to violate Bakura in every possible way, all the while telling him he deserved it. Nobody was allowed to touch his Marik, nobody but him. And it was Bakura's fault that this was happening, for he had tried to help his Marik and by doing so threatened his alter ego's existence. Bakura had been foolish, or so the evil entity had told him as he ran a knife down Bakura's chest, tearing his shirt and drawing blood. He had been foolish to think he could help Marik by ridding him of his dark side. He had filled Marik with false hope and made him stronger, strong enough to attempt to overrule his darkness, and now Bakura had to pay the price for role in Marik's defiance.

Bakura had tried to block the voice out, had tried to close himself off from the pain the other was inflicting on him but it was Impossible. He had been forced to bear the agony of the cuts Marik's parasite had made, he had been made to bear the humiliation of being raped until he could no longer cry out because his throat was so sore.

(It's me, Marik, I swear)

Once it had had its fun, the dark being had let out one last cackle and made one last cut before leaving Bakura on the floor, bruised, bloody and utterly broken. He wasn't sure how long he had laid there for, unable to move as he could feel his blood dripping from the fresh cuts. He had remained immobile until the room had slowly lightened, the sun was rising. Slowly, the weak rays had crept over him, throwing the bruises and blood into sharp relief, making them stand out against the pale skin.

It had been about then that Bakura had heard footsteps outside the door of the room he was in. He hadn't had the strength or will to move. The door had opened slowly and Bakura had heard the muffled scream before Marik had come into view. After taking in the full sight of the white haired man Marik had dropped to his knees and sobbed his heart out, staring in horror at what his darkness had done.

Unable to speak, Bakura had tried to reach for Marik, but the blonde boy had flinched away before running out of the room to call the emergency services. And so Bakura had been left alone again on the floor. He had heard the door slam behind Marik as the Egyptian fled the house, and he had drifted in and out of consciousness until the paramedics had arrived. They had lifted him onto a stretcher before he had allowed the blackness to take him.

Welcome to the nightmare in my head

Say hello to something scary

The monster in your bed

Just give in and you won't be sorry

Bakura had woken in a hospital bed with bandages on most of his body and Ryou asleep in the chair next to him. For a few seconds he hadn't been able to remember what had happened, before it had all hit him so suddenly he was left gasping for air. A few minutes later Ryou had woken to find Bakura trying to get out of the bed, desperately tugging at the tubes attached to his body in an effort to get away. Ryou had called the nurse who had given Bakura some medication that had taken him into the blackness once again.

The next time Bakura had woken up it had been night time. Ryou had still been there, awake and reading. He had put the book down to answer Bakura's questions. Marik hadn't been seen since the incident and there had been nobody else in the apartment when the paramedics had arrived. Bakura had known right then what Marik had done. He had left to set himself free.

The nightmare in my head

Say hello to something scary

The monster in your bed

Just give in and you won't be sorry

Welcome to my evil side,

Hello it's Mz Hyde!

"Thank you, Mr Tozokou," the police officer says to me in a gentle voice. "That's all the information we need. I'll contact the therapy unit tomorrow and give them your details. You may go now."

I nod and stand slowly, still pained from the events of a month ago. I'm about to leave the room when the police woman catches my arm.

"I'm sorry for your loss too," she says quietly. She means Marik of course. I nod again and take my leave, walking stiffly through the corridors of the police station to the exit. When I get outside I turn left and begin my daily journey.

They found Marik a week after the incident with the knife still in his hand. It was the only way he knew he could set himself free from the darkness, by taking his own life and destroying the evil inside him before it could harm anyone else.

I don't know why it hurts me so much that I couldn't save him properly. I torture myself every night with scenarios where I did something differently and Marik is still alive. But I don't know why. I only knew the Egyptian for a month, but I feel like it was one of the best months of my life. He made me happier than anyone else ever could.

I make a left turn and my destination is in sight. After a few more meters I am in the graveyard once again, heading towards the recent graves as I have done so many times in the last few weeks. I pause to take a deep breath before taking the last few steps and kneeling in front of a grave. His grave. Marik's. It gets harder every time, but somehow I still manage to make the journey, as I know I will do every day for the rest of my life.

As I kneel there the world narrows to the ground I am occupying and the grave of the boy in front of me. And for just a second, I imagine he's here with me. I wonder what he'd say. Perhaps he hates me.

A gust of wind disturbs me slightly and I look up to see the outline of a boy in front of me, so faint I can't tell whether it's real or just a trick of the light. It waves at me before turning away, and within a second it's gone from my sight. I write it off as a mirage.

As I look down though, I swear I hear a whisper on the breeze.

"Thank you, Bakura, for giving me the courage to set myself free."