Part 1

The cold stone beneath my feet began to rumble, I felt the rotting wood of the bench creak and shudder. I looked around; I seemed to be in a church of some description, black as night save for a single flickering light over by the altar. I slowly stood and walked towards the light. As I approached I began to see a hooded figure standing behind and though I couldn't see his eyes I knew he was staring straight at me. My apprehension grew, yet my feet continued to bring me closer to this mysterious character. I finally reached the altar, there was a solitary candle burning uncertainly in the centre and beside it there was an ornate knife. It looked old, very old… I looked back up the shadowed face, the ground shook with greater intensity and a steady trickle of dust rained down from the ceiling.

"Are you ready Florence?" said the figure

The voice was strained and echoed, it was like it was being shouted from a long way away. I found myself with no words to reply, the fear growing within me forcing its way up into my throat. The shadow stood motionless patiently awaiting my reply, another tremor shook the building.

"Y..Yes" I croaked, swallowing the emotions sitting in my trachea.

The figure slowly raised his arms and suddenly a pulsating, fractured light flooded the room. An eye began to appear under the hood glowing with the unearthly hue. I stepped back the renewed terror now trying to force its way out of my stomach. The rumbling intensified rolling into one continuous tremor; the rotting beams of the ceiling groaned with complaint. I could hear some of them give way, crashing down onto the floor behind me splintering into thousand pieces. A vicious wind began to batter my face and chest, the figures cloak was spread wide and he began to laugh but there was no joy in it. There was a crash as the walls around me began to crumble; I saw the pillars collapse bringing the roof down until there was nothing left but the altar. The shadow continued cackling evilly before slowly crowing.

"Could I get… a hug?"

Suddenly the knife was in his hand and was advancing towards me. The hood swept back revealing the demonic face of my assailant and I fell backward hitting the ground with a sickening thud. I put up my arm to defend myself and closed my eyes…

"Bakuraa! I command you to rise and shine sleepy head!"

A voice cut through the misty veil of sleep as I was forcibly roused into consciousness.

"It's already half past! We're going to be late"

I rolled over eyes still closed, trying with all my might to preserve the blissful state that you only ever feel when you know you have to get up. There was a click and suddenly a blaze of white clawed at my eyelids.

"Marik! Turn that bloody light off!" I groaned, desperately trying to find some shelter from the onset.

"You need to get up" insisted the voice.

"Fine!" I resigned bitterly. "Why don't you make yourself useful make some tea 'Mum' "

I heard the door close accompanied by some incoherent grumbling. Marik is such a damn morning person I thought to myself. 5 o'clock start Monday? I'd rather spend the day with Melvin! Thankfully we don't have to get to work till 9, but right now it was a fact of little consolation. I shook myself from my reverie and cracked open an eye. Bloody hell that light is bright! With a sigh and a struggle I pulled myself into a sitting position and opened my eyes. After a few seconds of furious blinking the room came into focus. It was a mess as usual; a jumble of clothes strewn across intermingled with the occasional wrapper or soft drinks can. I smiled to myself, Marik hates mess, he's so anal…

"Hurry up kitty! Your tea's going cold!"

I grimaced. I hate that nickname; he really does get on my nerves sometimes. I clambered out of bed and rummaged around for some clean clothes.

"Finally!" Marik chided as I yawned my way into the tiny kitchen.

"And good morning to you too Marik" I retorted scathingly.

"How come it takes you so long in the morning anyway, you don't even do anything!" He continued, un-phased.

I sat down opposite and took a gulp of my now lukewarm tea.

"This coming from the 'man'who gets up at 5 every day just so he has time to do his hair and put on his makeup" I smirked back. "Oh and how long does it take you to spray on your tan?"

"Hey EFF-you!" He shouted "My tan is 100% genuine as you well know!"

"Yes well" I conceded, having been down this road before. "The rest still applies"

Marik scowled himself into silence and proceeded to add jam to his already over-buttered croissant.

I shot him a look of distaste before draining my tea and standing up.

"Right, I'm off" I said walking towards the door.

"Oh no it's already quarter to blurred pixel!" he exclaimed, animatedly staring at his invisible watch.

"Marik, it wasn't funny the first time, it definitely isn't funny the 666th time you say it" I replied wearily.

I turned to look at him. An expression of smug self-satisfaction was plastered across his face. I sighed, bloody video games…