A/N: this is Detonate's Christmas gift, a bit late, tho. Merry Christmas!

So she asked me to write citronshipping, horror/crime/romance, and the story should also have Atem in it. This is what i came up with, hope you like it.

The name of this fic comes not only from the name of the desert but Nightwish' song. 833

1. Homeland

There were blood. It was everywhere in the room. It spread lazily across the floor, dark red liquid, the liquid of life, but the room was empty. There was nothing there that could have been the owner of the blood. With this much blood... Someone must have died.

But there was no body. And no sign of the body being dragged away.

The room was empty. Silent. Full of blood. It dripped down form the ceiling, along the wall forming puddles on the floor.

But where was the dead?

She'll be here soon.

The door opened, and someone backed into the room. The aura of panic reeked off the person. There was fear in her eyes, such terror. And the blood in the room seemed to flow faster, and it was raining blood.

Another figure stepped inside, with confident steps, this person wasn't scared. He was amused. The mysterious person raised his hand. The woman opened her mouth to scream, but it was too late.

Seconds later the lifeless body stumbled down to the floor, falling in the blood.

That blood flowed, climbed up to the woman's body and into the wound. The dead was here now, and the blood was satisfied.

There was a faint sound as something metallic hit the floor.

Someone screamed.


Atem the respected son of god, Pharaoh of Egypt sighed. Life was surprisingly uneasy, when you ruled a whole kingdom. It was a lonely job. Only few people ever climbed to the top, some all by themselves, some with help of others. It was windy up there, and crowdy and sometimes one could fall. His friend had fallen.

Atem walked down the stairs to the palace's cell.

There were two guards standing in front of the door, looking extremely worried because of the approaching Pharaoh, but it was their duty, so Atem ignored them. He turned around, while the guards watched him closely and looked into the cell.

How could it be that even when there was so hot, you could hardly breathe outside the cells were freezing?

There was a small lump in the darkest corner of the cell, trying to look small and unnoticeable, sitting alone surrounded by the shadows.

"Malik," Atem said.

The lump moved. It started crawling towards the light and the son of the sun god. Soon the light revealed the face of Pharaoh's one and only friend. Malik had long blonde hair and violet eyes. There was blood splatters on his clothes hands and face.

Atem's hand stretched through the bars, stroking his friend's face. Malik didn't look at him. There was blood on his face, and he was dirty. He didn't want his best friend to see him like this.

"Malik," Atem's expression was pained, when he whispered his friend's name,"Why did you do it?"

Finally Malik's eyes snapped to stare Atem. There were tears in his eyes.

"It wasn't me!" he screamed. "You have to believe, it wasn't me!"

Atem winced by the loud sound. The guards stood a little straighter.

"Malik, as much as I like to believe you, the evidence speaks for itself. I'm a Pharaoh, and I have to give you a punishment. But I could make it a bit easier, if you just tell me..." Atem gulped. "Tell me where you put the victim's heart."

Malik's face was one of pure horror. Like he hadn't heard that the heart was missing. But surely he would... Atem shook away the doubts. He was a ruler, he shouldn't have doubts, he shouldn't have feelings towards criminals.

"The... heart?!" Malik stammered.

"Yes," Atem answered coolly. "It was missing."

"I... I could have not taken it, Atem, I could have not, because I didn't kill him!" The last word was screamed in desperation.

Atem could do nothing but sigh.

"Fine. Your trial is tomorrow. I can't do anything for you, but wish luck."

He got up and without looking back he left the cells, leaving his friend to the darkness.


Malik had crawled back to the shadows. There he sat, in the darkness, all alone. He hadn't done anything. Anything! Why was he treated like this? Why Atem treated him like this? Why was there blood his face? Who's blood was it anyway?

All Malik remembered was going to bed, and falling asleep. He had been dreaming, but couldn't remember what had the dream been about. Then he had woken up, here in the cell, accused of murder.

Malik wrapped his arms around his knees and hugged himself tightly. It was freezing here, like nights in the desert.

He was alone, all alone. He had watched his best friend turn his back on him and it had hurt. It still hurt. He was afraid. Afraid of dark, afraid of the things in the darkness, afraid of the strong scent of blood that was reeking off his clothes. And most of all afraid of tomorrow.


Atem pitied him. Malik could see it in his eyes, when he was dragged by the silent guards in front of the Pharaoh. He was in chains, he didn't understand why. Atem pitied him, because of the chains, because of everything. Atem pitied him and Malik hated it.

"What is this man accused of?" Atem asked.

Oh, like you don't know, Malik thought. Immediately he regretted his harsh thoughts, Atem hadn't done anything, apparently Malik was, tho he still couldn't remember it. It didn't look so good, because if everyone expect Malik thought Malik had did it, Malik would be probably found guilty. All he could hope for was that Atem would give him mercy, for the sake of the days they had been friends.

Had been... It sounded like something that had happened so long time ago.

Pharaoh and tomb keeper's son can be friends, but Pharaoh and a murderer? Doubt it.

"This man killed one of the priestess of Isis," answered a man.

Malik recognized the voice even though the speaker was in the shadows. That was Kaiba, young but a rising priest. He and Malik had never got along really. Maybe it was because Atem liked spending time more with Malik than Kaiba. With priests it was all about popularity.

"Killing of a priestess, as you may know my Pharaoh, is a serious game," Kaiba reminded.

Atem just nodded. Malik humphed inwardly. Was Kaiba trying to get killed? The answer was: Most definitely yes.

"And what does the accused one have to say for his defence?" Atem asked.

"He claims that he doesn't remember anything." Kaiba's words were spat out bitter, unbelieving. "When he was found, he was franctic, he didn't understand speech, and didn't react when was slapped."

Malik touched the bruise on his cheek. So that's where that had come from.

"He was like an animal, your majesty," Kaiba continued. "So he was put down, like an animal."

At this point, Malik could swear, Kaiba, just a figure in the shadows, turned a little and gave Malik a scornful smile.

"And do you, Malik Isthar, have anything to say to this?" Atem asked. He sounded hopeful, like Malik could say something that would save him.

Malik looked at Atem. Violet eyes met red ones, just for a brief moment.

"No," Malik said.

Atem looked disappointed and a bit surprised, but not as surprised as Kaiba probably did right now. The priest had expected him to say something, to defend himself, so Kaiba could get to shot him down, but Malik wouldn't give the man that pleasure. He already knew that there was no way out of this. So he better not make this anymore worse by opening his mouth at inappropriate place.

"Well, okay," Kaiba cleared his throat. "What do you say, my Pharaoh?"

Atem sighed. He looked tired, Malik noted. Had he slept at all?

"I say that even tho this man commited a serious crime, he didn't do it of his free will. I believe he was possesed by an evil spirit. I cannot sentence a man, who in a way did nothing, to death."

There were loud murmurs among the priests. Malik felt like dancing around in joy. He winked at Atem, but Pharaoh looked still grave.

"But my Pharaoh...!" Kaiba said, but his voice we lost in the crowd's murmurs.

"However," Atem said raising his voice so everyone could hear it. The crowd froze. Malik blinked in confusion.

"However," Atem repeated this time with lower voice, now that he had everyone's attention. Atem looked at his priests and then at Malik. "I cannot let a person, who is possesed by an evil spirit roam freely around in my kingdom. Therefore only choice is..." Atem sighed again. "Malik Ishtar you are no longer a citizen of Egypt. I, by the authority given to me by Ra, banish you from the kingdom of Egypt. As it's traditional you will be given some water, that's all. The palace guards will accompany you to where the Egypt ends and the desert begins. May the gods guide your way, lost one."

And then Atem stood up and turned his back to his friend, as he had done already once before.

Malik just stood there, unbelieving. To the desert? He wouldn't survive there! There was no food, no shelter! He would die there! If Atem had just given the death sentence at least he would have died quicker.

Dully, as if it had come from somewhere far away, Malik heard Kaiba's voice, speaking:

"The Pharaoh has spoken! The judgement had been lain in front of the eyes of the gods."

In daze all Malik could wonder was: where were his gods now?


Desert. It was sand, just sand under the clear night sky. Nothing grew there, hardly nothing lived there, and that, what lived, had learned to survive.

And now Malik had to learn that too. He stared at the endless dunes, already giving up. There was just no way he could survive.

Something sharp propped between his ribs. Malik spun around to stare at one of the Pharaoh's guard.

"Can't you see I'm preparing myself?" Malik hissed.

"The preparation time is over, buddy," the guard answered smugly. "It's time to kiss goodbye to your Egypt and say hello to your new home."

Malik gulped. After this, there was no returning, Atem had said so. Malik closed his eyes, breathed in the fresh night air and took the first step to his new life.


The sun was high in the sky. It was well past midday. The air itself was boiling, so was the sand. Malik was walking on.

He would die. That was certain. Well, everyone would die sooner or later, but for Malik it was sooner. He had ran out of water few mails back, and there was no oasis in sight. There would be no oasis.

Malik tried to gulp, but his dry throat wouldn't let him. Atem may have meant good sending him here, but the cutting of throat would have been so much quicker, so much less painful.

Malik had heard the stories. How men had gone insane, staying in desert for too long. It had been hallucinations, caused by demons that had made them loose their mind. The demons had showed them everything their heart had desired, food water, their families. The demons had killed them, made them catch invisible humans until they could run no more.

Malik sighed. Why did he keep on walking? What's what the point? Wouldn't it be much easier just to lay down and sleep? Malik shook his head. No. He was not a quitter, even tho his dad had called him one, until the day he died. Had it been because Malik didn't want to be a tomb keeper? Or had it been because Malik had thoughts of his own? Probably both.

Malik had always hated his father. And when he had died, Malik's sister, Isis, who applied to study for a priestess took Malik to Thebes.

Malik had got job at the Pharaoh's palace, and that was when he had met Atem. A smile appeared to Malik's lips as he remembered the day he had met pharaoh. It had been, what, seven years ago? They both had been nine at the time. Atem had got lost, hard to believe it, in his own palace.

Without knowing who he really was Malik had helped Atem. From that day onwards the boys had been inseparable. The truth, of course, had come out at some point, but it hadn't affected their friendship.

Malik continued walking, that little smile still playing on his lips, and it grew even wider when he noticed a small area of long forgotten ruins.

There were shades. Malik quickened his steps, constantly fearing that the ruins would disappear as soon as he would reach them. But they didn't. The ruins were real! And there was a well there too. Malik felt like cheering, but his throat was too dry and he couldn't make a sound. So instead he just ran to the well hoping, no, praying that there would be water inside.

There was! Not much, and it was muddy, inside a rotting bucket. Nevertheless Malik drank it happily. Then he wandered to the shades of the ruins, that was caused by along time ago collapsed building.

Tired body thumped to the ground, raising a small sand cloud. Malik leaned against the wall and eyes warily the landscape in front of him. All he could see was dunes after dunes of sand. And somewhere out there was Thebes, the place he had called home and somewhere in there was Atem, the man he had called friend.

Malik sighed. Why was it so hard to let go? Slowly the weary eyes closed and Malik fell asleep. He dreamed of Egypt, his one and only homeland.