He had carefully planned it all out. With Diabound on his side and Zorc's promise of power and revenge granted when freed Bakura was finally ready to confront the pharaoh. It had taken years, but the revenge would be sweet, finally allowing his kin's spirits to find rest. Pharaoh or not he would learn there were lines he could not cross.
Then he died. All of Bakura's meticulous planning fell apart. All his work was meaningless. The spirits sacrificed for the Millennium Items still clung to him screaming for revenge. But against who? Curse the pharaoh for dying too soon! He had his own armies and power now, and the coward escaped the death that should have claimed him!
Zorc comforted him. Their deal was still in place. Bakura could still receive his justice. He just had to alter his target slightly. Bakura's attention turned to the pharaoh's son, so high and mighty. He was just as arrogant as his father. The same blood ran through him. Surely such an offering would appease the spirits?
Cracking a smile Bakura shoved the stone door open the rest of the way. Yes, the son would do just as well as the father. But first he'd make sure his tormentor received the burial he deserved. The tomb robber entered the pharaoh's tomb. It had taken a year for them to finally finish piling in treasures to be taken to the afterlife. Bakura studied the room. The traps had been difficult and he'd had to disarm more than one curse, but he was here.
Glittering granite covered the walls every inch carefully carved with spells for a safe journey. Larger than life paintings of the gods and the pharaoh looked down on him from the pillars. Sneering Bakura glanced at the beautiful jage, gold, and marble figurines with offerings of jewels guarding the room. There were even miniature guards. How quaint! He'd make sure they never had the chance to awaken.
"Diabound," Bakura called. The serpentine ka uncurled from his place inside the tomb robber and slipped out to stand beside his master. Bakura petted the shadow spirit fondly.
"Eat all the shadows here," he commanded. Diabound's eyes gleamed as he struck forwards. The stone guards shattered black shadows rising from them. The powerful ka quickly swallowed the magic before it could fully work, visibly swelling in size as he absorbed it.
Chuckling Bakura left his ka to his work and lowered the bag from his shoulder. "Well well pharaoh, what have you left for me?" Humming he picked up the sacrificial bowls. He just loved robbing the pharaohs' tombs. They always had the best treasures. Savoring sweet dates from a platter he poured gold coins and glittering jewels into the bag. Carefully he hefted each figurine mentally calculating it's worth before tossing it aside where it shattered or adding it to his growing pile.
"Hm? What's this?" Bakura's grin turned completely predatory as he looked at the king's armory.
"Why pharaoh! I thought you were a peace loving man! Here, let me relieve you of this burden." Cackling Bakura pulled a beautiful steel sword from the wall, the sheath a soft white leather with bronze edging. He checked the balance and unclipped his own sword replacing it with the pharaoh's. This one was much better quality than the one taken off that guard. The poor blade hadn't been cared for at all before Bakura had received it. This one, however, had never even been used. It would last a long time under his loving touch. A few decorative blades were added to the sack, keeping a couple of the more practical daggers out to add to his own collection.
Moving over to the canopic jars Bakura let out a long whistle.
"Would you look at this! Real ivory!" Cheerfully he opened the containers emptying the former pharaoh's innards on the floor. Wrinkling his nose at the smell Bakura stepped back. He might have his share of death on his hands, and even appreciate the coppery sweet smell of fresh blood, but rotting flesh had an entirely different effect on him...
Screams echoed in his mind. He could smell their bodies burning, rotting under the foul magic. The boy couldn't seem to stop staring as he watched the face of a boy he'd been playing with just yesterday deteriorate, turning black and falling apart into the large boiling pot beneath...
Snarling he hurled the jackal headed jar across the room. A satisfying smash echoed in the room soothing the thief.
"Ra curse him," Bakura muttered, shaking slightly. How dare he die so easily? How dare he rest in this tomb when Bakura's kin didn't even have enough left of them to have a burial at all? No, this wouldn't happen. The pharaoh would not remain here.
Stalking over to the sarcophagus Bakura read the loving epitaph inscribed there. A twisted smile formed on his lips. Yes, beloved by all. The epitome of righteousness. The tomb robber had to be the one in the wrong. The pharaoh could do no wrong. Pulling out a dagger Bakura sliced open the seal and cracked open the sarcophagus revealing the inner coffin.
A much simpler covering hid the mummy from sight, the pharaoh's royal red cape wrapped around it. The pharaoh's favorite, the blood red color forbidden to be worn among commoners. Bakura wasn't a commoner of course. He was a king himself, ruling the underbelly of Egypt. Chuckling he pulled the cape away and wrapped it around himself, fastening it around his shoulders.
"Everything you had, pharaoh," Bakura whispered," Everything you called dear shall be mine, stolen as you stole mine." Chuckling darkly he quickly fastened a rope to the inner coffin and tugged it out after him. The pharaoh would be moved to his new grave tonight, a feast for the jackals.
"Diabound!" Bakura called. The shadow spirit turned from his destruction of the room, broken shards visible around the now much larger ka.
"It's time we give our greetings to the new pharaoh." Red eyes gleamed as the ka returned to his master nuzzling him affectionately. Proudly he left the inner sanctum. It was almost too easy leaving the tomb. The guards by the entrance didn't even have the chance to shout as Diabound killed them, leaving a horse frozen in fear for Bakura to take.
Bakura mounted the horse and tied his loot tightly. None of the pharaoh's goods would be lost. The far end of the rope around the coffin was tied to the horn of the saddle setting it to be dragged behind him. Diabound flowed effortlessly back into the shadows. Around him Bakura could once more feel his kin's spirits stir restlessly moaning for him to help them.
"Not much longer now," Bakura promised. Kicking the frightened horse into a gallop the mad tomb robber set off to the palace. Now he would have his revenge.