One Step Into Darkness
An LLS Production
He stands by the edge of the street. Looks left, then right.
There are no cars to be seen, the sound of an engine does not reach his straining ears over the chilled winds of a bleak November night, but he chooses not to cross. Instead he stands aloof , a figure cut from some old Japanese film, as if waiting for some invisible gap in an imaginary crowd to part for him.
"Whee..." he softly sings, voice rough and harsh and like darkness.
He is an empty shadow no matter the time or season, he, who once shone as the sun, and he now walks with mortals on the streets. Mortals who do not know who – or what – it is they brush out of the way when he stands still too long.
He is changed. And though he knows not how, he does know why.
It is night. It is his time.
His own eyes are red, red as the blood he spills on his careless run through, always on a whim. He is a monster, in the modern mind, something impossible and magical and part of the darkness. He is weird, the bad kind of weird, the kind of weird that made floorboards creak in the middle of the night and doors swing open when there was no wind. Half not-there, half-empty like a broken doll, a reflection in rippling water, flickering out even as they looked.
Yet, no one catches him, except for a few.
Why runs up to him, almost like him save gentler, eyes wide and lavender.
"Hikari-pretty," he laughs, quietly. It is the sound of demons in the night, the sound that strikes absolute fear. "Come with me."
"I wonder," Marik states. "If I stepped forward now, would I be taking one step into darkness?"
He laughs, and the straggler prospective mugger rethinks the decision and runs. Silly, fools, all of them...
"Let's do it," Marik grins, and walks in.
He grins too, because where the light goes the dark follows, of course, and because it'll be fun, and there's so much to do, and so little time... even for someone as elemental as the dark itself.
The prey is found, a pretty thing that pales in comparison to his own consort, but does it matter anyway, because he's luring the giggling piece into the nearby park, the winter chill of night already making rounds, and he's aware that she's bait for the weak little group of humans anyway.
"Oi, you! Where ya going?"
And he turns and give a wide grin and they step back and then they turn around again, and then there's screaming and crying from the now fearful girl and they run, but it's useless...
A Nightmare Horse runs up to him, Marik already sitting astride the creature bareback, and he gives a flash of smile as he jumps on and Marik is in his arms and laughing and they hunt, they chase, and all the time he demonstrates how to use a bow to the enchanted Marik.
Soon enough the beloved grows tired, and there is the roar of an engine, and a motorcycle drives itself up, the rider disappearing as Marik jumps from the moving horse to straddle the bike's saddle.
They run the night and the park together, and the last of the hapless is rounded up soon enough with a final arrow to the thigh.
They leave the gang of the mercies of their retinue, some select members place an unwilling performance as Marik and he laugh, the magic of the Sceptre of Millennium strong in their grasp and practice and they chant the spells needed and time continues and the night runs while the hapless former predators cry and plead for mercy not forthcoming –
Then, beloved Marik straddles him and they kiss and it's like salty fire and hot and wet and they whine and bite and fight and the magic explodes from their fingers and trail through the night, clothed in the blood of the prey and laughing anyway, for he is a demon of the night as he so demonstrates, and he is Chaos's son, and here the only order is decided by his equally insane consort.
"Dusk and Dawn," he says, "One steps towards darkness, while the other strides on to light. Khepri and Atum, ha, there is no sun that shines in the night–"
"Shut it," Marik tells him, and hikari-pretty is sad now. Quiet quiet like the desert nights, so soft he can barely feel his breath, but he can feel the crying, little soft gasps, all wet and warm, almost like he does when he plays, but hikari's sad, not bright and cooing and happy, and he, the dark hates that, so his kisses away the tears and laughs and makes Marik laugh and gasp and scream.
They draw blood, there is a moan and there are screams and, the night when Khonsu is absent from the belly of Nut, they unite in a cold winter chill that no longer seems so cold as its namesake.
The rising sun, encroaching on the night, sapping away the darkness even as it creates shadows, begins to warm the day. The clear sky is bleached a buttermilk blue, shot through with golden ladders that lead to the heavens. Its light touches the crossroads, where the traffic light has recovered miraculously and is now travelling between all three colours.
It reaches the park, blanketed in frost, turns the blue grass green again. It climbs up the naked trees, the little hillocks and finally reaches the little pond, rimmed on the outside by a thin layer of ice. The yellow light bathes and warms the pair of flowers that float in the centre, riding the gentle ripples caused by the waterfall.
The light caresses the exotically coloured petals that seem half intertwined with each other, and the faintly glowing yellow centres gleam.
By the bank are two intertwined bodies which shall get up soon, and dress themselves from their dishabille of the night before, and wander back into their home and the thin veneer of civilisation and light. Not yet, but soon.
Soon, the water seems to turn luminescent, the waterfall blessed with healthy flow despite the ice, and Khepri makes his presence known.
They sleep on. Not as they were, but as they are.
Okay, the whole point is to make this confusing, for that is what I see Malik as; crazy and confused and chaotic. Hope you enjoyed it.
Please review!