Chapter One
"It's not fair, Odion!" A young male with blonde hair and tanned skin yelled furiously from atop his bedding. "Why couldn't Father just consent to you being Tomb Keeper in my place?" The boy was close to tears now that his anger and desperation had reached its peak.
In response, the older boy known as Odion did nothing but stand before the boy. His head was bent forward; face contorted in shame and regret with nothing but bandages to hide it. The younger boy, blinded by his emotions, did not even remotely notice them on the elder's face.
"Better yet, why didn't you save me…" The young boy almost inaudibly added as an afterthought, not expecting an answer to present itself in the least.
"Master Marik, please try to understand. Your father-"
"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The boy now known as Marik yelled. His eyes squeezed tight, hiding their unusual color of lavender, as he gasped in pain from the effort.
"Master Marik, are you alright?" Odion took a step forward in genuine concern before he was halted by a soft yet angered voice.
"Get out, Odion."
"But Master-"
"I said get out! Leave me alone!" He yelled yet again, instantly regretting it as his back screamed in agony at him. He was forced into lying completely still yet again, not even letting another word escape his mouth lest it cause him more pain.
Without a sound, the older boy regrettably left his ward alone, but not before glancing back and whispering a heartfelt apology by the door.
Once he was finally alone in the increasingly small confines of his room, Marik finally allowed his anguish release. They appeared in the form of large, salty tears and gasping breaths of air. He felt anger, fear, desperation and, above all, betrayal.
He felt betrayed by Odion for the older boy had told him that he would go in Marik's stead; that Odion would protect him. Yet here he was, bed ridden because Odion had not been able to undergo the Tomb Keeper's Initia tion afterall.
How could Odion, the person he trusted most in the world, let his father do something so cruel to him? Now he would have to serve as Tomb Keeper for the rest of his Ra forsaken life and there was nothing he could do about it. Even if Marik did find a way to escape from the tomb, he would still bare the marks engraved in his back until his dying day.
Deep down inside, Marik knew it truly wasn't Odion's fault for his misfortune but he couldn't help but want to blame someone else. Odion had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He knew that, if anything, the Pharoah was at fault and would wanted revenge; no, he would get revenge.
•••
Almost a week had passed and Marik's back had finally healed enough for him to stand for prolonged periods of time. He was ecstatic to finally leave the stuffy confines of his room and venture into the rest of the tomb.
Although he definitely hated being stuck underground, it was definitely an improvement. Besides, now that he was well enough to move about he could put his plans into motion.
Staying cooped up in a room with little to no company for a week had definitely given Marik a lot of time to think and plan on escaping this retched tomb for good. Unfortunately for him, he had to wait until his father went to sleep.
"Marik." The door slowly swung open to reveal his elder sister, Ishizu.
"Sister." He acknowledged, turning to face her.
"Do you really think you should be up just yet?" She glanced over him. "You're still recovering."
"I've never been better!" He grinned hopefully at her, willing her to overlook his early departure from bed.
She frowned slightly at him but ended up conceding in the end, thinking he deserved to stretch his limbs for at least a little while.
Ishizu had taken upon the duties of bringing Marik his daily meals and checking up on from time to time in case he needed to relieve himself or wanted some extra company. For this, Marik was grateful. If not for her he may have driven himself to the brink of insanity, especially since he had not seen Odion after that fateful night.
"Sister…" He hesitated for a moment, a frown settling upon his features. "Where's Odion?"
A thick silence ensued, engulfing the room in a terse tenseness that Marik was not fond of. It made him believe that something horrible may have happened to his beloved, adopted brother.
"Ishizu, what happened to Odion?" He demanded more urgently, walking closer to her.
"He's no longer with us, Marik." She lowered her head sadly; heartbroken that she had to break the news to her fragile little brother.
"W-what?" He stood stock still, afraid that he hadn't heard of wrong and yet hoping that he had. Unfortunately for him Ishizu kept her head down, unwilling to look into his fearful eyes.
Marik felt as if the walls were closing in on him, faster than they ever had before. His body began to sway as the walls spun around him, rendering him dizzy and incapable of standing on his own two feet.
"No! I have to stay strong and get Ishzu to tell me what happened to him. I have to know, I just have to!" He shouted in his head, somehow forcing his mind to clear and steady himself so he wouldn't collapse.
"I-Ishizu, what happened to him?" He forced out again, almost hesitant to learn the truth but knew he wouldn't be satisfied until he did.
One lone word escaped from her lips and he instantly knew what happened. "Father." Odion was no longer in the world of the living.
Marik was in utter shock, the room began spinning tenfold until, finally, his brain shut down on him; his body collapsing with a resounding thud to the ground. The last thing he could remember hearing was Ishizu yelling out to him in alarm, "Marik!"
̉•••
When Marik finally became conscious, all was silent, telling him it was more than likely after dusk. This was confirmed by the darkened room, lit only by a nearly burned out candle in the far corner. For a moment he just sat there, dazed, until his memories returned to him on how he ended up in bed.
These memories brought silent tears of sorrow with them which immediately began to roll down his tanned cheeks. The shock rendered his body a statue incapable of outright sobbing for the death of his dear brother, Odion. Marik didn't how long he sat there like that before anger finally took over him; an anger so fierce he felt as if for a moment he was possessed.
Soon that anger brought him to the brink of insanity. Bent over and clutching at his suddenly throbbing head as it seemed to tear him apart from the inside out, Marik gasped in growing agony. A pain so similar yet not quite like the pain his back had endured from the initiation tore through his being as if he were being ripped from it. Along with this peculiarly, inexplicable burst of pain, Marik's hair seemed to have grown a mind of its own. As if electrocuted, his hair began to stand stock straight upon his head as if to signal his torture was soon to be over.
Now that the pain finished assaulting the boy's mind, he lowered his hands back to his sides and stood up straight. He glanced around as if to gather his bearings before a grin spread across his face before maniacal laughter bubbled up from inside of him; booming waves of hysteria rolling off in waves from his very being. It was as if he had turned into a completely different person.
Still grinning wildly as if a friend were telling him a crude joke, "Marik" silently left his bed chambers and headed down the hall of the tomb before coming to a stop outside of his father's room. Uncharacteristically fearless, he pushed open the door to find his father bent over a desk looking at what appeared to be documents of some kind.
Noticing the disturbance, the elder turned towards his "son" with a darkening scowl.
"Marik, what do you think you doing in here?" The man thundered at him, enraged at just the sight of the boy.
"Aren't you happy to see me father?" "Marik's" grin seemed to grow impossibly bigger as his spread his arms out, bearing himself to the old man.
The old man stood up, a whip magically appearing in his hands, before raising his choice of weapon in the hopes of using it against his "child". He glowered menacingly at the boy, immediately noticing that it held no effect, before shipping the boy.
The resounding crack never came, instead a maniacal laughter once again pierced through the silent night. When the man took a closer look, he noticed that the boy had caught the whip around his wrist and held it tight.
"You fool!" "Marik" bellowed. "Do you honestly think I would go down that easily? You'll have to do better than that!" He pointed accusingly at the elder.
For the first time since "Marik" had entered his chambers, the old man realized that the boy's voice was of a more demented and sinister sound than before. It oozed with the evil his young body had only managed to keep locked away with the help of Odion. But now that the older boy was out of the way, the evil "being" inside of Marik has been able to escape and roam free; able to torment the world and its populace as he saw fit.
"What have you done with my son?" The elder called out, superstition donning upon him; thinking that an evil spirit of some sort had stolen the soul of his heir. In a way, the man was correct.
All he received in reply was a sharp weapon slicing through his small intestines repeatedly as the imposter inhabiting his son's body continued to laugh ecstatically. It was as if feeble feeling of resistance from the old man's skin in an attempt to block "Marik's" weapon from piercing his innards while experiencing the warm blood splatter upon his face and arms made him feel alive. In fact it was; "Marik" is alive!
As a final thought the old man, by somehow forcing his brain to work around the excruciating pain his body was currently experiencing, wondered, "How did he get the Millenium Rod in his possession? I never… Even saw h-him move…" No soon did this thought end did the old man gasp out a last shuttering breath, his eyes eternally a petrified reflection of shock.
The last thing the tomb saw of "Marik" was his retreating back. His off-white, blood stained garb swirling haughtily around his small, bare ankles. The sound of footsteps padding on the tomb's hard floors bounced around the walls, echoing ever so slightly.
