The Aim
Summary: Marik thought he knew revenge. Seconds away from death, he suddenly realises that he has only scratched the surface. How could he be so careless?
X
The sun was scorching hot, roasting Marik's skin with its angry rays. The sand was burning his knees, and the young Egyptian shifted to ease himself from the heat. It was fruitless. His movement only coached the pistol to press harder to his forehead. He clenched his jaw tight, sweat rolling down his tensed cheeks.
"Why are you doing this?" Marik seethed through gritted teeth as he twitched his head to the right, relieving some of the pressure from the gun on his head. "Why do you want to kill me?"
"Shut up," a woman snapped. Marik flinched when she clicked off the safety latch. "You know what you did."
Marik tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. Instead he licked his lips, finding them to also be dry despite the amount of moisture that dripped from his temples. But it wasn't just sweat that dripped down his face, blood dribbled from a gash on his head, caused by an unexpected blow from her concealed gun.
Marik looked up at her, narrowing his eyes from the glare of the sun. He could only see her outline from this angle, her silhouette foreshadowed by the sun behind her. Even so, he could still distinguish her black hair swaying in the wind, her strong arms exposed to the elements from her tank top.
"Chase," he said, trying to sound calm. He raised his hands in an effort to coax her away. "Put the gun down."
She scoffed, pushing the gun towards him, the metal barrel digging into his skin.
"I'm sorry it has to end like this," Chase sighed. She narrowed her eyes, her lips pursed in a displeased frown. "Any last words?"
Marik could only stare up at her. She was different. She wasn't who she made out to be. Was everything real? Was everything between them genuine? He wasn't sure.
She had a different look. Marik couldn't recognise her. She was physically the same person, but her demeanour was not who he thought would be. If looks could kill then Marik was sure that her glare would shoot him dead long before she could pull the trigger on that gun.
"You've changed." He sighed. "You've changed…"
"No," she snapped. "I was like this from the moment we met."
X
The first time he met her was on an unbearably hot afternoon. Although Marik felt content, powering down the sandy desert roads on his bike, his wheels throwing up dusty rooster tails into the air, just like how he imagined when he was a child. His skin was cooled by the winds that blew into him, calming the raging heat from the sun.
Something black was hovering over the mirage of the horizon, shimmering and distorting. Driving closer he noticed that it was a large jeep parked at the side of the road, the hood propped up with someone burrowing inside. She looked up at the sound of Marik's engine, turning around to squint at the road. Upon spotting him she began to wave her arms at him.
Marik could see her mouth moving, but he couldn't hear her over his engine. He gunned his bike, smirking deviously as he raced past her. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder, seeing that she had stopped waving. Instead she stood there, her brown skin covered in dust; her shoulders slumped in dismay as she gawked awkwardly down the road at him.
Marik couldn't help but laugh.
But soon after, Marik couldn't help but frown.
He turned around.
Earlier on, he felt some sick satisfaction for leaving her stranded. But then, guilt overtook him. He figured that it must due to the absence of his darker self, his alternate personality suppressed to the furthest reaches of his mind.
He mounted off his bike, walking over to the hood of the jeep to see the same girl pouring away at her engine. She glanced up at him, grimacing once she recognised him.
"You again," she mumbled. "That was not nice to pass my need of help, leaving me in the dirt."
He shrugged, standing beside her as he observed her engine. "I didn't see you," he lied. "The sun does crazy things to your mind."
She scoffed, placing her greased hands on her hips. "Oh really," she said incredulously. "You do not look of a heat stroke suffering. To my view, you were laughing happily as one drove past."
He burst out in laughter, much to her irritation, and then nudged her out of the way as he looked over the jeep. "Your Arabic is terrible," he commented. "You have a Lebanese accent. Is your teacher from Lebanon?"
She nodded. "Yes," she huffed. "For only six of a month. I learn."
He tweaked over the engine, mumbling as he recognised the problem. "What's your original language?" Marik wiped his hands on his trousers, not wanting any of the black grease transferred onto his bike when he returned to it.
"English," she said. "Why, do you speak it?"
"Fluently," he replied, switching to the western language. She sighed in relief, putting a greased hand onto her chest.
"Good," she whispered in a relieved tone. "Arabic is not my forte."
"I noticed," he added. "Your engine should start now. Go try it."
She nodded, disappearing to her driver's seat. She closed her eyes for a bit, perhaps in prayer, and as soon as the engine coughed back into life she opened them with surprise. She looked over at Marik, a gratuitous smile stretched across her face.
"Thanks," she shouted over both of their engines. "I didn't catch your name."
He closed his eyes, perhaps in contemplation. He opened them, staring at her with his lavender orbs. "Marik." He said.
She smiled. "I'm Chase John," Chase tucked a black strand of hair behind her ear. "Nice to meet you."
Marik remained straight faced. With a quick nod of goodbye he gunned his engine, clouds of swirling dust trailing behind him like orange ghosts as he drove. Chase smirked. She wasn't sure if it was a trick of the sun, or if it was a mirage, but she swore that she glimpsed a smile from him as he turned to glance over his shoulder.
X
Marik watched with wide lavender eyes as she pulled back the hammer. Chase gritted her teeth together as she began to squeeze the trigger. He could hear the mechanical springs whine as the trigger moved, millimetre by millimetre toward his death. Marik began to panic. He always imagined that the moment before death would somehow be peaceful, but he was far from feeling serene. His heart was beating like there was no tomorrow, and Marik couldn't help but smirk at how true that statement could be.
"What are you smiling at?" She asked, suspicion and curiosity causing her to relax the trigger. Marik heaved out a relieved sigh, thanking the gods for the extra time he is allowed on earth. She jabbed her gun, stopping him from laughing. "Answer my question."
"Why?" He snapped. "Why the sudden curiosity?"
"Don't answer a question with another question!" Chase shouted vehemently. Marik chose not to push her anymore.
"I find this ironic," he grumbled. "This situation. I find it ironic."
"Ironic?" Her eyes narrowed. "Regarding?"
"You." He replied simply. "Us. You and I… and that gun you're holding. I find that ironic."
Chase nodded, a smile creeping upon her tanned features.
"That was from our second meeting." A small laugh escaped from her lips. "I remember that."
X
Marik wiped off some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. It was morning, and the temperature in Egypt began to rise. He looked over at a ginger lady beside him, her shoulders were red from sunburn, and she fanned herself hastily.
He was touring this lady into the tombs he used to live. Although some chambers collapsed from Yugi and the Pharaohs' duel, this redhead archaeologist bribed him a hefty sum of money to show her what was left of it.
"Who are we waiting for again?" he asked her. He wanted to go underground, into the cool of the shadows, and escape from the sun.
"My body guard." She replied. Her Arabic was accented from her western tongue. "I can see her coming."
The young Egyptian squinted as he looked out to the desert. A black jeep was looming closer to them, swirls of sand and dust spraying from its wheels. The jeep looked familiar.
"Here she is," she piped. Marik sighed in relief, wanting to end the day. The redhead archaeologist stomped forwards, walking confidently towards an approaching jeep. When the vehicle stopped she rapped on the driver window. The window lowered, and the redhead poked her face through the gap. "I'm not paying you to be late, you know."
The redhead stepped back, allowing room for the car door to open. A woman stepped out, her black hair tied in a ponytail, her fringe tickling the tanned skin on her face. Marik recognised her, and she recognised him as her gaze swooped to his direction.
"Chase," he greeted in English. "Small world."
Chase gave him a half smile, cocking an eyebrow as she retrieved some equipment from her boot. "Small world indeed," she paused. "Mark, was it?"
"Marik," he corrected coolly. Chase shrugged in reply as she strapped a small pistol into the holster on her thigh. He eyed the weapons with distrust.
Chase noticed the way he looked at her, observing her with a calculating eye. "Don't worry, I'm trained. I'm in the British Army. I can protect us if the Rare Hunters are still around."
Marik was still unsure. "You won't need them," he sighed. "It's safe. The Rare Hunters have disbanded two years ago."
She laughed. "Well, I'm paid for these."
"I still think you don't need them." He commented before turning around, leading the ginger lady into the tomb. He stopped in his tracks when he heard Chase laugh.
"Marik, I have a question for you," the female soldier spoke with a playful and teasing tone. He looked over his shoulder, nodding to indicate that he's listening. "Would you rather have a gun and not need it, or would you rather need a gun and not have it?"
He shrugged. "Depends on the circumstances," he replied. "I've come to learn that a gun isn't the only thing that can protect you."
Chase smirked. "Well, I bet you that if you're seconds away from death, you're gonna wish that I would be there to save you with my pistol."
Marik chuckled, shaking his head as he descended down the stone steps which lead to his previous home.
X
"Well," Marik challenged in a low voice. "I'm seconds away from death, Chase. And I don't think that pistol is supposed to save me."
Her smile disappeared from her face. "Shut up." She snapped. "This pistol was supposed to protect those from the Rare Hunters. I never thought that I would find the leader of that group so soon."
"So soon?" He repeated. "W-wait, you were looking for the leader the whole time?"
"Yeah," she spat. "But I never thought the leader would be you."
He looked down, shocked. "How did you know I used to be the leader?"
"My father," she replied. "He was forced to be a Rare Hunter. He wrote a diary, he described everything. You forced him to be one of your guinea pigs to test out your Egyptian card. The experiment failed, he was severely injured, and was submitted to hospital. That was his last entry before he died of a brain haemorrhage. "
Marik frowned, a mixture of emotions bubbling inside him. He felt angry, and ashamed. "That still doesn't explain how you found out it was me." He snapped, looking up at her, glaring daggers with his lavender eyes.
She growled at him, her throat thick with anger. "My father never saw your face, but he said that the leader supposedly had an Egyptian scripture carved onto his back." She pushed the gun back to his head. "You have it."
X
"Why are you taking me here?" Chase asked Marik with weary breaths as she dismounted off the motorcycle, yawning as she walked into the dunes. "We're in the middle of nowhere."
They both looked around, seeing a sea of sand with giant rippling dunes stretching to the horizon. Marik hopped off his bike. He didn't know why, but he felt this need to be around her, to know her more. It was odd for him, as he only knew Chase for a few weeks, talking to her whenever he could if he wasn't too busy touring that ginger archaeologist. Of course, those conversations were often interrupted or disturbed by the redhead, so he decided to take her out and have some proper time with her.
"Why are you smiling?" She giggled as she playfully tapped him on the shoulder. "You're up to something, aren't you?"
"What makes you think that?" he laughed, playing along. Marik turned around, climbing over one of the giant dunes. He paused at the top, looking down at her, expecting her to follow. She clambered up to him, looking at Marik in expectancy.
"Don't look at me," he scoffed. "It's the Oasis over there you should be staring at."
Chase looked down. On the other side of the dune was a pool of water, a few date trees surrounding it. It was small, but it was wonderful.
"Whoa," she gasped in awe. "Is this real, or is this just another mirage."
Marik only chuckled at this. "No, not a mirage. Nature isn't that cruel." He gave her a small pat on the shoulder. "Jump in the water, it's all real."
Marik made his way over to the pool, the glassy water was smooth until he swished his hand in it. Grinning, he turned around to face her, taking off his shirt and shoes and jumped in, the water splashing around him. Chase laughed as she neared the small spring.
"If you told me we were going swimming then I would have brought a swimsuit." She sat down by the edge. Marik waded over to her, his blonde hair dripping onto shoulders. Chase removed her shoes before dipping her feet into the water. She looked relaxed, and calm. A devious thought then crept to Marik's mind.
"What?" She asked, suspicion taking over. Marik shrugged.
"Do you want to go for a swim?" he asked nonchalantly, looking to the sky innocently.
"Yeah, I'd love to, but I don't have my swim-"
An overwhelming feeling took over her as she was suddenly dragged to the water. The pool was warm, and she was drenched from head to toe. Marik laughed as she gasped in surprise, and she splashed water at him for making fun.
"That was mean!" She giggled as she slicked her hair back. "What if there's a crocodile in here?"
This only caused Marik to laugh harder. "There are no crocodiles here," he confirmed. "You're safe."
"Oh," she said, wading over to him. "Then, what if I didn't know how to swim?"
"Then I'd stop you from drowning," he said. "Besides, the water isn't that deep."
She waded closer, splashing him a little as she neared. "What if I was really, really short?" she laughed. "What would you do then?"
"If you were short I wouldn't have pulled you in," he chuckled. He then became slightly aware at how close she was getting.
"Marik," she began. "Why did you bring me out here?"
He wasn't expecting that question. He was also thrown back, because he didn't know the answer to that question. "To, uh," he paused, stalling for thought. "I-I brought you here because-"
He was cut off, a face full of water splashed at him. Chase laughed.
"Sorry," she chuckled. "You're face looked really hot then. I thought I should cool you off."
"What do you mean my face loo-"
He was cut off again with more water. He was about to protest until her lips pressed onto his, her arms snaking around her neck to pull him closer. He mirrored her actions, bringing her closer. He felt her hands smooth down his neck, his shoulders, his back…
Her fingers traced over the raised scriptures, exploring it as she carried on kissing him.
X
"When I took you to the oasis, that's when you knew." Marik confirmed, suddenly hurt. She nodded. "Chase, was it all real, or was it to confirm your target?"
Chase looked down at him, gripping her pistol tighter. She shook her head. "None of it was real," she whispered. "How could I love the man that killed my father?"
Marik felt like his heart dropped. Hope suddenly died, and he bowed his head, staring into the sand. He sighed wearily, shutting his eyes.
"It was real for me." He breathed.
She stepped back, leaving room for the blast.
"Goodbye."
The desert erupted with sound, the shot echoing amongst the dunes like a clap of thunder. Another shot. Then another. The magazine clip was suddenly being emptied, exploding from the barrel with every squeeze of the trigger. A click. More clicks. The bullets were gone, but the trigger was still being pulled.
Click. Click. Click.
Marik opened his eyes, shocked to find out that he was still alive. He looked up. Chase was still there, pulling the trigger, the gun making empty clicks as she aimed it at the sun. She was crying. He was speechless.
"How…" she sobbed. "How could I love the man that killed my father?"
She suddenly cried out in anguish, throwing the pistol as far as she could. Marik didn't know where it landed, nor cared, as he stared up at her. She looked down, stricken and distraught, and looked at him with wide eyes.
"Why do I love the man that killed my father?"
She turned around, walked away from him, and never looked back.
Marik stood up, and stood by, staring at her back as she slowly disappeared into the desert. The Egyptian swore under his breath as he wiped the blood from his face, before walking to the opposite direction, shocked and hurt.
Marik never saw her again.
x
This is a oneshot that I have entered to a Marik/OC competition. It's supposed to be 600 to 3000 words long... and I've gone a few words over 3000. Yet, still, that isn't enough for this idea. That's why this oneshot is quite vague. However, I do like this concept, and I will extend it so it makes more sense. I'm also sorry for the lack of atmosphere, I couldn't fit it in under 3000 words, and I couldn't add more of the relationship buildup between them, which is why it seems a bit rushed.
Ah well...
Please review :) They do make me incredibly happy.