Alright, second fanfic complete. This one is, as you can tell, a lot longer than the last one I did. This is much more my normal length and now you see why it takes me a while to get stuff out xD Reason I wrote this, I guess, is because I think the Pharaoh is portrayed as being too strong. I adore him as a character (Who doesnt? xD) but I think we need more Pharaoh-torture stories! So this is technically Yamishipping, as there is a kiss. I was going to include more stuff, but decided against it. Story was ten pages long at its final draft. This hasnt been beta'd yet, going to do that soon. Also: Malik = Yami Marik. You will never see me change their names other than that. Read and review!
Warnings: Torture, abuse, sadistic!Malik and Bakura.
Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. If I did...well, use your imagination, hehe.
A low sigh was allowed to creep out from the Pharaoh's open lips as he turned and quietly bid his friends good night. He was exhausted, but that was understandable. The past week had been spent dueling and he had dueled a Shadow Game earlier; his strength was not quite at its highest. So many people had been lost that evening and he blamed himself. Ryo was almost lost in the shadows, unconscious due to their duel earlier. Mai was in the Shadow Realm then, suffering untold horrors that even the brave Pharaoh shuddered to think of. Joey had nearly been lost and was still shaky from his duel. Odion – revealed not to be Marik, as he claimed – was unconscious as well. And now their true enemy had revealed himself in his cruelest form – Yami Malik, the sinister spawn of Marik's hate.
Brushing his hand through the blond bangs that hung down into his face, the slender male turned into one of the rooms after scanning a key card through the handle and stepped in. A few hours of pure peace and quiet was all he wanted for himself, time to escape into the labyrinth that was his soul room and not think. Walking over to the window, he stared through hard, narrowed violet eyes down at the city below them, wondering for the shortest of moments where they were actually going. Then the palest shade of himself appeared beside him and the Pharaoh half turned to face the other male. They were as similar as they were different – the Pharaoh was a few inches taller, though their equally spiked hair made most of the height difference. The smaller boy's bangs did not jut upwards, and his face was softer overall. At the moment, he was giving his darker half the gentlest of smiles, having sensed the inner turmoil his partner was going through.
They said nothing – there was no need. Through the connection drawn from the Puzzle around their necks, they communicated silently, letting emotions do the talking. Yugi knew the Pharaoh was emotionally and physically exhausted and was wondering when the other male would ask for them to switch so that he could sleep in the safety of either Yugi's soul room or his own. Sighing heavily, the Pharaoh turned and deactivated his Duel Disk, laying it on the table. He then shrugged out of the blue jacket that adorned his torso, leaving him in the black muscle shirt and blue pants. Draping the jacket over a chair, he moved toward the bed. He wanted nothing more than to fall onto it and just seep away until Yugi was in control, but he couldn't do that yet. Unbuckling one of the belts, he laid it on the table and drew the Duel Monsters card deck out of it, briefly looking through the cards. It was at that moment that he heard the harsh laughter.
The lean muscles in his body went rigid as he slowly sat up, amethyst orbs raking the shadows – he had neglected to turn on the overhead lights, instead going by the lamp that had been left on. Once again the cruel laugh emitted, sounding from two corners of the room. It was obviously from two different people – one was more harsh and grating, the other softer and more of a devious chuckle. Slowly, the Pharaoh turned to face the harsher laugh, eyes mere slits. The pale shadow of his other half shimmered beside him, tense and waiting. Parting his lips, the male allowed his deep baritone to rumble forth, commanding and cold. "Show yourself."
Yet another cackle broke the brief silence and the figure of Yami Malik suddenly emerged. The heavy, dark purple cape fell in rich waves to the ground behind him, contrasting with brutal vividness against his khaki cargo pants. The black shirt gave his tanned flesh a healthy gleam, while the golden bands that encircled his arms at various intervals glowed. His jagged, white blond hair stuck straight up, adding to the insane appearance that made him up. The black shirt revealed the hard muscles of his chest and arms, and he had a height advantage over both the Pharaoh and the male behind him. His pale lilac eyes were wild and strangely veined, and in his right hand, he held the Millennium Rod. His lips were twisted into a malicious grin that contorted his otherwise handsome face and made him appear all the more cruel.
From behind the Pharaoh stepped a male who should not have been conscious, much less breaking into rooms. As pale as the other Egyptian was dark, Bakura was so white he was like an albino. He was not as tall as Malik was, but he possessed an aura that made it clear that he was more powerful than any of them could imagine. Underneath an open blue shirt, he wore a blue and white striped one, which hung from him as though he was little more than skin and bones – which he wasn't. Thin to the point of looking emaciated, the male had gaunt, but handsome features, sharp with fury and hatred. Settled within the sockets of his skull was a pair of dark brown eyes that should have been soft and kind, like melted chocolate. Instead, they were so dark they appeared to be black. Ice white hair flowed down his back, sticking out rigidly, unlike his lighter counterpart. He was the one who would now and then emit a soft chuckle.
The Pharaoh wanted to swear – he was trapped and he knew it. Unarmed, with no way of getting out, as Malik stood between him and the door, he had absolutely no idea how to save himself from this situation. He could feel Yugi's panic, flooding their link. Trying to calm the boy, he turned so that his back was to neither of the dark halves, instead standing so that he could look left and right to stare them down. There was purest hatred carved into the hard angles of the Pharaoh's handsome face, and his dark orbs were narrowed. "Can I help you, boys?" Sarcasm dripped like poison from his words, blatant fury riding the words, though they were low and perfectly controlled. He had no intention of allowing either of them to harm either himself or Yugi, though he knew deep in his heart that if it came to it, he would defend Yugi at all costs.
Malik gave a harsh laugh, eyeing the Pharaoh with a hungry expression. "We are going to make this quite simple, your Highness." He broke off to give a wicked chuckle and began to step forward, the purple cape flowing behind him. At the same time, Bakura had moved forward to, so that they literally cornered the Pharaoh against the wall. The slender male gripped the Puzzle, wondering if there was any escape to this. Malik continuing speaking, his voice distorted. "Take off the Puzzle, set it on the table, and step back. So long as you do this, no harm will come to little Yugi." A sneer curled back his lips, the strange dimensions pulling at his face so that it appeared to be stretched. His grip on his own Item tightened, the warning in his eyes clear.
"No! Pharaoh, no." Yugi pleaded with his darker half, begging through their link for the male not to give in to their demands. He didn't want to see his friend harmed, didn't want to allow the other two Yamis to hurt him. He stared at the Pharaoh, pleading with his eyes. For a long moment, soft purple stared into hard purple, tears welling in the softer violet. However, after a moment, the Pharaoh bowed his head, knowing he was beaten, and slowly lifted the Puzzle from his neck. He faintly heard the strangled, agonized cry of Yugi before silence invaded. Though they could speak through their link without having to be touching the Puzzle, it helped. With a low sigh of sorrow, he shut the link down as well, not wanting to even imagine what the other two might have planned. Stepping forward, the Pharaoh set the Puzzle on the table and stepped away from it, head bowed in a pose he never took – submission.
An evil cackle ripped from Malik's lips as he saw this. Striding forward, he let his strong fingers close over the Pharaoh's wrist and dragged him close, teeth bared in an animalistic snarl as thoughts ran through his head. Only a sharp hiss from Bakura kept him from doing whatever he wished. "Slowly." The pale man growled out, cruelty in his tone. "Gods forbid we make this easy on him." He stepped forward at a more sedate pace, content to bide his time. Around his neck the Ring gleamed, flashing now and then as the shadows in the room began to give into his demands. Flicking a hand at the darker man to release their quarry, he waited until Malik had relinquished his hold then spoke directly to the Pharaoh, a sinister warning in his tone. "On your knees."
The Pharaoh's head snapped up, blond bangs swaying as he glared daggers at the two. If looks could have killed, Malik and Bakura would be dead on their feet. With utmost loathing gleaming in his violet orbs, and with all the dignity he had, he lowered himself gracefully to his knees. His teeth ground together as he warred down the urge to fight – if he did, they would hurt Yugi. Neither of them had to actually say it, the Pharaoh simply knew it. He was not scared, not yet, merely defiant and angry. This was humiliating, to be at the mercy of his two greatest foes, but the need to protect his host was greater than the need to fight against them. He would submit to this because the other option was not one he would allow.
Tensing as he sensed the other two darks moving toward him, he emitted a low growl in warning. Bakura simply laughed, letting his fingers trail ever so gently over the Pharaoh's throat, tickling the flesh that wasn't covered by the collar. The ancient spirit shuddered away from the touch, loathing it. He didn't like being touched in general, but these two were using that against him. Bakura gave a soft chuckle, watching as Malik moved in a slow pace back and forth in front of the kneeling king. "Take the collar off." He said it as an order and that alone grated against the Pharaoh's nerves – no one ordered him around. Stiffening his shoulders in response, he refused to move, clenching his fingers into fists to show his refusal. This merely made Bakura cackle. "Fool. Either you remove it yourself or we will force Yugi back into control to do it." The spirit of the Ring knew that threat would ring true and would make the Puzzle's spirit do as ordered.
"Touch him and I will destroy you. " The Pharaoh's voice came out as a demented snarl, his eyes flashing with fury. "Lay a finger on him and I won't waste time with the Shadow Realm. I'll send you both straight to the afterlife, Marik and Ryo be damned." His tone made both of the darks know that he meant it, and the threats to their light halves would weigh heavy, but he complied with their order. Reaching up, he unbuckled the collar, slipping it off of his neck and tossing it aside. He then dropped his hands back to his sides, fingers curling into fists once again. More than anything, he wanted the Puzzle back in his hands to call upon the shadow powers to banish these two forever. More than anything, he wanted to fight back. But fighting back meant risking the life and safety of the boy whose vessel he shared and that was something he could not and would not do.
The spirit of the Ring suddenly reached down and grabbed a few of the strands of the Pharaoh's hair, dragging his head back so that his throat was bared. Hissing in pain, the Pharaoh had little choice but to take it. Gritting his teeth, he watched as Malik slowly began to move forward, the hand on the Rod tightening. With a twist, he released the knife that was hidden within. His eyes promised evil and his smile was full of sin. He could feel himself getting aroused from the Pharaoh's plight – the need to dominate and own others controlled his drive and this was a high for him. Lifting the point of the knife, he placed it on the very centre of the Pharaoh's collarbone, watching hungrily as the blood pulsed and pumped in the veins beneath the flesh. It would be so easy, but that was not the plan. Not tonight, anyway.
With a simple flick of the blade, he sliced a three inch long fissure in the Pharaoh's jaw; the hot scent of blood, metallic, rusted, and wet, filtered into the air. To his credit, the ancient Egyptian king only flinched, allowing no noise to pass from his jaws. Nostrils flared to catch the smell, the tanned male grinned. "Lift him up, Bakura, I want to taste it." The pink muscle that rested within his oral cavity slipped forth as the albino lifted the Pharaoh by the hair he had a hold of. The Pharaoh growled angrily, his lips drawn back from his teeth in an animalistic snarl that contorted his lean, handsome face. As Malik leaned toward him, tongue trailing along the sundered flesh, he shuddered in disgust. But when Malik grabbed his jaw and forced him to hold still as the dark skinned man cleaned the blood from the wound, the control of the spirit of the Puzzle snapped.
He lashed out with a foot, catching Malik in the shin. Using the same foot, he slammed it down, catching Bakura's instep. The other two darks hissed, releasing him. The effort was good, but the Pharaoh knew that he was outnumbered. More than that, he was outmatched and not just in size and strength. The two demonic darks had no moral restrictions as he did – it would not bother them at all to slaughter him and leave Yugi forever trapped in the Puzzle. But the urge to fight was too strong to resist and he felt that he had to at least try. Fury flashed in Malik's eyes as he lunged forward, aiming a fist at the Pharaoh's stomach. Lithely the other male stepped aside, using a controlled motion to strike his hand into the dark's ribs.
However, as he made to spin to face Bakura, he saw something that sent chills down his spine. The ivory haired spirit had lifted the Puzzle from the table and was holding it in one hand, a dagger in the other, the tip touching the Eye. The Pharaoh stumbled to a halt, his heart thundering madly in his chest as he slowly fell back to his knees. He felt the blood drain from his face as his eyes widened; the evil smile on the face of the Ring's spirit was twisted and demonic, promising that he would indeed do it if there was no cooperation. "Alright, alright." The ancient king said quietly, holding his hands up in submission to it. "Put him down. I'll cooperate. You don't need to harm him." He loathed the quiet pleading in his tone, but he knew that if he expected to get both himself and Yugi out of this alive, a certain deference was necessary.
A pleased smirk passed across the face of Bakura and he gave a slight nod to the other Egyptian, who moved forward and grabbed the Pharaoh's arms, twisting them cruelly behind his back. Allowing no hiss to escape from his lips, he merely grimaced as he was forced to stand. Malik shoved him back against the wall and a moment later, strands of darkness trickled around his wrists to hold him there. Once secured against the wall, the Pharaoh was trapped and helpless. They had pinned him so that his feet could still touch the ground and for that, he was grateful, but with his hands above him, he had no chance of escaping. Staring with loathing into their eyes, the proud spirit waited, wondering what hell they had planned for him.
Bakura made the first move, stepping close with the dagger in his hand. He had placed the Puzzle back onto the table and left it there, content to do so after assuring that cooperation would be had. He had no real interest in harming little Yugi anyway – it was the Pharaoh that he really wanted. With a controlled flick of his hand, he sliced open to black shirt, letting it fall away and float down to the ground. With a cruel smirk, he raked his gaze over the lean, bare chest of his rival. The blood from the wound on the Pharaoh's jawline was dripping down onto his chest and slowly, the white haired male leaned forward to lick it away, holding eye contact the entire time. Laughing at the disgusted look on the face of the Puzzle's spirit, he grinned evilly. Suddenly, he lifted the dagger and slashed brutally at the Pharaoh's chest, leaving a wide, bleeding gash in the flesh.
The Pharaoh flung his head back with a low groan of pain, gritting his teeth to keep from making any more noise than he already had. He had been in pain before, worse than this, but it was different. Before, he had been able to overcome it through various ways – this time, he was utterly and wholly at their mercy. Nostrils flaring to try and ease the pain, he watched with hatred in his dark purple eyes as the other male moved closer. Lilac eyes were wild and wicked as Malik slowly trailed the dagger inside the Rod along his stomach, just above his waist. "You needn't worry, Pharaoh." Malik's heavily accented voice said with a snickering cackle. "Nothing we do to this body will be visible once Yugi takes over. But you will feel it all until it heals." Once more he laughed, before slashing at the Pharaoh's waist, cutting through the other belt and slicing into his hip. The blade cut into his flesh until it was stopped by bone.
Agony flared up from the two cuts, making his heart stutter in its beat. The Pharaoh fought with the pain, drawing on his control to keep from screaming out in anguish. His eyes watered at the torture, tears threatening to seep down his face. Keeping his head back to hide the expression on his face, he groaned, the only noise he allowed. But when Malik wrenched the blade out from his hip, he couldn't stop the whimper. Gazing at them both through pain-hazed eyes, he growled, wanting to voice threats and curses, to tell them the things he was going to do before killing them. He had stopped the Shadow Games because of Yugi, as the teen had wanted him to, but he figured, for these two, his host could make an exception.
Malik dug his fingers into the gaping wound that ran from the Pharaoh's lower stomach down to his hip, making the spirit buck with pain. It was almost impossible not to cry out, but he couldn't bring himself to submit to the agony and let loose his cries. Staring down angrily at them, he watched as Malik brought his blood coated fingers up. The darkest part of Marik Ishtar's personality trailed the bloody digits along the Pharaoh's lips, coating the smooth flesh with his own claret hued liquid. The Puzzle's spirit wrenched his head back with a snarl, spitting harshly at Malik. Fury erupted into the lavender orbs and with a sharp motion, he struck the Pharaoh across the face. The blow echoed around the room as Bakura gave a wicked laugh. "Not bad, Malik." His low voice complimented as he, too, dug his fingers into the wound he had made.
Another moan of pain was wrenched forth from the Pharaoh's jaws as he tilted his head back, eyes fluttering as he tried desperately to block out the pain. The side of his face that had been struck was throbbing, but it was minor compared to the screaming agony that came from the wounds. Through narrowed, furious violet eyes, he watched as Malik and Bakura licked away the blood at their fingers, disgust gleaming in his gaze. "Monsters." The solitary word was snarled out, filled with loathing for the two. However, the two darks merely gave twin laughs before moving to him again. Malik traced his knife slowly over the lean muscles of the Pharaoh, the tip of the blade leaving fine lines of blood in its wake. Shying away from the tickling sensation, the Puzzle's spirit spat once more, not caring if another blow to the face was the consequences.
Malik's pale lavender gaze narrowed as he wiped away the spittle from his face, glaring maliciously at the Pharaoh. Fisting his hand, he slammed the limb into the wound on the Pharaoh's hip, causing a moaning yelp to come from their prey. Grinning sickly, he gave a cold nod, pleased. "I knew we would get some more sounds out of you sooner or later." Giving his partner in crime a sinister smile, he stepped back to let Bakura have a moment or two of fun. Malik was panting, need coursing through his body as the blood flowed below his waist. This was a turn on for him – he got off on hurting other people and to see the Pharaoh of all beings, hanging helpless and at their mercy, was a treat like no other.
The ivory haired male raked a sneer over the Pharaoh, who was panting with pain. His lean features were twisted from it, lips contorted into a snarl. Like the dark skinned Egyptian, Bakura, too, got off on seeing another in pain. And like the other Egyptian, he, too, was more than pleased to see this proud spirit at their mercy. Bakura knew that Malik wanted to hear the Pharaoh scream for mercy, but the evil spirit of the Ring wanted something a bit crueler. He wanted to see tears of pain and sorrow streaming down the handsome countenance of their enemy, wanted to hear the Pharaoh beg and moan for clemency. But the two spirits would have none, for this was their worst adversary and both wanted him dead – just not yet. Bakura still had use for him and thus, would not allow Malik to slaughter him just yet.
Bakura adjusted his grip on his own dagger, stepping to the other side of the Pharaoh, his left side. Redoubling his grip, he suddenly slammed it to the hilt in his side, causing a moan of pain to escape. The sinister spirit intentionally tempered the blow, missing vital organs and veins. Instead, he simply cut into flesh, a straight hole that went almost five inches in. Ripping it out, he brought the dagger to his face and licked the blood off, growling hungrily. Malik gave an evil giggle, pleased to see the pained expression of their enemy. The Pharaoh had closed his eyes, teeth gritted to try and war off the pain. He didn't want to admit defeat, didn't want to show any sign of weakness, but that was hard to do when agony crawled up and down him.
Grinning cruelly, Bakura stepped closer and grabbed his chin with a brutal hold that would bruise. Crushing their lips together, he slammed the dagger into the wall, leaving there as his hand went to the gaping, bleeding hole. In a gruesome caricature of an intimate act, he thrust two fingers into the bleeding wound and began to teasingly scissor the flesh. At the same time, he forced the Pharaoh to open his mouth, swallowing the gasp of pain and pushing his tongue past lips and teeth. Bakura moaned in pleasure at the taste of the Egyptian king, rocking his hips against the Pharaoh's. But when teeth sank into his tongue, fury erupted. Wrenching back, he drove his fingers into the wound, causing a yelp that turned into a shriek as the fingers continued. Spitting out a globule of blood, he struck the Pharaoh once again across the face, the sound resonating.
The proud, ancient spirit groaned in pain, ashamed of himself for crying out as he had. Head low in submission and agony, he fought back tears, feeling the hot liquid prick the back of his eyes. Exactly how long this had been going on, he knew not. The Pharaoh knew only that he was in pain and was desperate for some sort of release from this hell. Parting his lids back from his eyes, he let his gaze, hazed with tears, travel to the Puzzle. Not daring to link his mind with Yugi's, he merely allowed himself a moment to ache for the youth, knowing it was better that he take this hell than to subject the teenager whose body he shared. He would never allow Yugi to suffer as he currently was. His gaze shifted to the watching men, violet orbs first meeting lavender, and then hard chocolate. Lips parted and his voice, a hoarse rasp, came out. "You will suffer for this, both of you."
The only thing the sentence got from the two darks was a cold laugh. The Pharaoh let his head hand in misery, eyes gleaming with tears, though they were half-shut. Breathing was difficult, and the sick feeling of blood trickling down his body sent chills through him. The numerous cuts dripped or poured blood and the stab wound throbbed with pain, leaking blood in a steady river. His pants were stained with it, the floor slick with it – it was a wonder the other two had not slipped yet. He no longer had the strength to hold himself up, the blood loss beginning to make his head spin. He hung from the strands of darkness that held him to the wall, slumped and exhausted.
Bakura and Malik took a step back to admire their handiwork, pleased with the result. Neither of them had ever thought that they would see the sight before their eyes – the Pharaoh, proud, strong, and powerful, slouched in defeat and pain. They glanced at one another, communicating without speech. They knew it was time to end it before they accidentally killed him and although Malik wouldn't mind it, Bakura had plans that needed the Pharaoh alive a bit longer. Indeed, their point had been made, showing their enemy that they were not to be toyed with. Chuckling darkly, Bakura snapped his fingers, letting the shadows disperse. The Pharaoh dropped to his knees, catching himself at the last moment from falling on his face, arms braced against the ground.
Malik moved over, fingers entangling in the strands of inky hair at the back of the Pharaoh's head, wrenching backwards and wrangling a gasp from the spirit. The next moment, the dagger hidden inside the Millennium Rod was pressed against his throat, prickling the flesh and making him draw back slightly. Sadistic lavender gazed cruelly into dull amethyst, the lavender lit with a sinister light. Bakura gave a laugh, picking up the Millennium Puzzle from the table and holding it casually in his hand, stroking it with one hand. The dark violet gaze tore itself from the lavender and gazed sorrowfully at the Puzzle, desperately wanting to link with Yugi and let himself fall into darkness to heal and recover. Never had the Pharaoh hurt like this, surely not even his death had been this bad. As his hair was tugged again, he moaned in pain, a solitary tear sliding down his face.
Triumph flamed in Bakura's eyes and he laughed, tightening his grip on the Puzzle until it would be painful for Yugi. If his assumption was correct, then the little one could feel touches to the Puzzle as he could feel them to the Ring. As Malik increased the pressure on the Pharaoh's throat, Bakura began to speak. "See what it's like, almighty Pharaoh?" His voice was a sneer. "Even you can suffer pain, even you can bleed! They used to say gods didn't bleed – we proved that lie wrong!" A harsh laugh, laced with insanity, erupted from him. "Even a Pharaoh, even almighty Horus can become a slave when put through enough hell. Bow at our feet, you fool, learn to be a good slave and perhaps we won't repeat this."
Loathing and defiance still flamed in the Pharaoh's exhausted eyes and though he wanted to defy them physically by refusing, with a blade to his throat and Bakura's hold on the Puzzle, he had no choice. The grip on his hair was relinquished and after a moment, he let his elbows bend, slowly lowering his torso down. Humiliation of the highest degree, the deepest sense of human degradation, coursed through him and he gritted his teeth as his wounds screamed in pain. The Rod's dagger left his throat and he took that as permission to rise again. Doing so was an effort that made him groan in agony, but he met the chocolate orbs of Bakura again, utmost hatred in his eyes. "I…will have my vengeance." The Pharaoh's voice, normally commanding and stern, was little more than a hoarse rasp in his throat. "I swear by all the gods, if it takes me another five thousand years, I will destroy both of you."
Malik reared back and struck the Pharaoh with the Rod, silencing him. That final blow was too much and the proud ruler dropped, eyes fluttering as he fought with the abyss. Twisting so as not to have his back exposed, he lay there on his side, gazing up at them blearily. Malik drew his lips back from his teeth in a gruesome, animalistic snarl and growled out, "We'll see who destroys whom." With that, he sheathed the dagger back within the Rod and turned, violet cloak rippling with his movements. "Let's go, Bakura. We're finished here." The alter personality stalked to the door, waiting on his comrade. The ivory haired thief bent and placed the Puzzle in the Pharaoh's hand, closing his fingers over it almost gently. For a moment, rival gazed at rival and a strange look passed between them before Bakura rose and walked off as well.
The Pharaoh vaguely heard the door open and close before he surrendered to the pain. His eyes rolled back in his head and a moan of agony was torn from his jaws. He tried to drag the Puzzle over his head, knowing once he switched with Yugi that the body would be safe from bleeding out. He was not worried about himself, merely about his partner. Weakly, he pressed the Puzzle to his chest, pleading mentally for Yugi to hear him. "Yugi, partner, please." Begging desperately, he managed to pull the chain over his head. A moment later, the pale apparition of Yugi Mutou appeared, kneeling beside him. Almost immediately, Yugi touched his hand to the Pharaoh's face, horror written on his face. Without hesitation, he allowed their minds to switch, letting him into control.
Slowly, the youth lifted his body up, shocked that he was not covered in blood, though plenty of it was on the floor. Though some of it was on him, he was not harmed in any way – somehow, only the Pharaoh had taken the agony given to him. Drawing inward to their shared minds, he caught the spirit as he went to collapse, shirtless, bleeding. "Yami…" He breathed out the name that the Pharaoh had told him months ago, terrified. "Oh god, what did they do to you?" His fingers ghosted without touching over the wounds, staring at the overstretched stab wound. Tears trickled down his face as he cradled the Pharaoh, who was slowly allowing himself to give into the shadows. "I'll take care of you, I promise." Kneeling there on the floor of the corridor between their soul rooms, soaked in his other self's blood, crying, Yugi held the Pharaoh, stunned but determined. And in the back of the Pharaoh's mind, a cruel, half-formed plan for revenge had awoken.