Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.
Warnings: Abuse, cutting, all that.
Completely betrayed. He's completely betrayed himself, and there's nothing he can do about it except fear this part of himself that he created so long ago. Shivering in fear, gravitating towards the corner, as his darker half looms closer, leering. The knife is bloodstained. He's been there the times it has been used before. But those were small cuts, barely scratching the surface of his thick, dark skin. This time promises to be worse. Bloodier. Deadlier.
At the hint of those words in his weaker half's mind, the tips of Mariku's mouth curve upwards. He wouldn't call it a smile, because it's more sadistic than that. Not a smirk, either. This is something else entirely, moved by power and bloodlust and death and murder. It's a sign of Mariku's victory over Malik.
Malik closes his eyes and makes a small noise in the back of his throat that he can't help. He feels shaky, and very weak and dizzy. You could call it fear, but this is also different than fear. Malik ackgnowledges his fate; he doesn't fear it.
There's a hiss, the scent of Mariku's vile breath on his face, and before he knows it the breathing has moved to the back of his head and he's seeing red and there's sharp pain in his back. He grits his teeth, trying to remain silent as the knife moves slowly, tracing the scar on Malik's back. Slowly.
This is what makes his darker half different from Bakura's darker half. Yami no Bakura has harmed his weaker self many times, but the cuts have all been quick and fast. Bakura's evil side cares about the life of his counterpart, even if it's only because if little Bakura dies, dark Bakura dies with him. Mariku isn't like that. He doesn't care if he lives or dies. Hate and destruction are the only things he cares about, and that is why he harms Malik.
Mariku laughs, and speaks aloud. You have interesting thoughts. He removes the knife from Malik's back and wipes the blood on his pants.
The cut isn't deep, and Malik voices his surprise as he fingers the cut, wincing.
Mariku smiles his odd smile again. Of course he's not going to kill his weaker self. If he were to murder Malik, the entire world would know who had done it. If he made a cut too large or obvious, there would be questions asked. That's why he makes his cuts small. Mariku doesn't want any questions.
Malik shuts his eyes again and sinks to the floor, trying to hide his silent tears. But it's too late, Mariku has spotted him. Even through closed eyes, Malik can see his darker half's sneer as he spits onto him and turns to leave.
He's gone, and Malik is alone, and bleeding. It's dark. There's nothing. No one's going to save him. He could run away, but it would be useless, because Mariku is a part of himself. If there's one thing that Malik has learned, it's that there is no hiding from yourself.
No hiding from yourself, and no cowering in fear from yourself, either. He realizes that now, and gets up, wiping the blood from his back on his fingers, as there is nothing else he can use. He licks them slowly, as he has often seen Yami no Bakura do.
The blood doesn't taste all that bad.