The Mummy: Yaoi Style
Disclaimer: My lack of any substantial amount of money tends to point toward my not owning rights to anything like YGO or The Mummy.
A/N: All right, take two of this baby! New and improved, not-copying-almost-directly-off-the-script version of the prologue (which is the way I originally intended it to be, really)!
This story is based off the movie 'The Mummy' using YGO characters. I take great liberties with the plot, and it most certainly isn't sticking with how the movie went, so I won't bother listing what characters play which roles. Figure it out yourselves! P
Contrary to the title, this isn't technically going to be a yaoi story. It will be gay though, so don't panic. It'll just be shounen-ai like… well, all my other fics. Pairings being:
Atemu/Yugi(Abayomi) and Bakura/Ryou.
Prologue:Three thousand years ago, in Ancient Egypt, there lived a great Pharaoh, Akunamukanon. Of his many children, firstborn was his son, Atemu, the boy that was to succeed him, and one-day rule Egypt. However, destiny had other plans for the boy.
A young man, no older than sixteen years of age darts between the high reeds, gold jewelry glinting in the harsh sun. Glancing around for a moment he ducks low in the grasses, hiding himself from sandals to the tip of his spiky reddish-black hair. He holds his breath as the guards run by, calling for him, until their voices begin to fade.
Letting out a long breath, Prince Atemu lifts himself up until his head rises above the reeds, checking to see if the coast is clear. Congratulating himself on a great escape the young royal attempts to stand up, but is startled by the ground caving in beneath his feet. With a yelp, he tumbles down an embankment, coming to a rest at the bottom in an undignified – and rather sandy – heap.
"Are you all right?" A light voice questions, as hands find themselves on his arms, giving him support. "Let me help you up."
The prince is hefted to his feet and finds himself staring into a pair of enchanting violet eyes. The eyes suddenly widen in fear and then disappear as their owner falls to the ground in a deep bow, forehead pressing into the sand.
"M-my prince!" the boy stutters. "I did not reali- I am deeply sorry! I am not worthy enough to have touched you. Please spare my life!"
The young man looks affronted for a moment then kneels before the cowering boy. "It would not do well, I think, to have killed all those who would lend me a helping hand."
The boy continus to tremble silently, until Atemu places a hand upon his head, lightly patting reddish-black locks, so like his own. "Look at me."
Lifting his head, the boy stares at him warily, and the prince gives him a soft smile. "What is your name?" he asks.
"Abayomi," the boy answers, before returning the smile.
He met a peasant boy, Abayomi, along the banks of the Nile, with whom he soon became enamored. He showered the boy with gifts and affection and in secret the two soon became lovers. Their affair lasted until it came time for Atemu to take a wife. The prince defied his father, and refused to marry, claiming that he would have no lover other than Abayomi. Furious at the disobedience of his son, the Pharaoh demanded that the prince's lover be found, and executed.
Atemu cries out and is held back by the guards behind him, as his lover is dragged before the Pharaoh. The boy is thrown to the ground, where he stays, kneeling.
"Let me go!" the prince snarls, struggling vainly against the hold of the guards. "Release me!"
He is paid no heed, and can only watch as another guard takes hold of Abayomi's hair, forcing his head back and baring his throat. His face is streaked with tears, fresh ones joining as a sword is set against his neck. The motion causes Atemu to scream fiercely, his own tears of anger leaking from his eyes.
Closing his eyes in resignation, Abayomi manages to tilt his head toward his lover, a line of red appearing where blade meets skin. Opening them again, he stares at the prince and offeres him a smile.
The guard holding the sword tenses and draws his blade sharply to the side, splattering hot blood across the floor. Atemu keens then falls limp in the arms of his captors. As his father approaches, he looks up, eyes full of hate.
"I believe it is clear now," the man declares. "That you do not disobey Pharaoh."
The prince was filled with hatred for his father, and sorrow for his lost lover, and sought for any means with which he could exact revenge. He would eventually steal the Black Book, a dark tome of spells and practices, forbidden to the people of Egypt. With this he made a pact with the Shadows, surrendering his soul to them, so that he might kill his father and resurrect his lover.
The men guarding the Pharaoh's bedchamber pay no heed as the torches in hall flicker and dim, shadows stretching and deepening, slipping beneath the heavy stone doors. In the darkness of the room appears a pair of bright crimson eyes, before the shadows coalesce into the form of Atemu.
Leaning over his sleeping father, the young man draws a dagger from the folds of his black robes. Raising the weapon high, he plunges it downwards. In the seconds before blade meets flesh, Akunamukanon awakes, letting out a strangled yell before being sent to his death.
The guards burst into the room and see the blood of their Pharaoh spilled across white sheets, and the dark man looming over him. He glances at them, eyes red and glaring.
"Prince Atemu!"
The prince smirks, before fading into shadows. His revenge is complete, and he has another task to attend to.
Fleeing from the palace, the prince took the body of his lover deep into the desert, to Hamunaptra, the City of the Dead, and resting place to the wealth of Egypt. It was here, within the bowels of the city, that Atemu used the Black Book in an attempt to revive Abayomi. But he was followed by the Pharaoh's bodyguards and stopped before the ritual could be completed.
It was found that with his pact with the Shadows, Atemu could not be killed, and so he was to be mummified and buried alive, never to be released. For if he was to once again awaken, he would be more powerful than any man before, an undead monster with the strength of ages, dominion over the Shadows, and the glory of invincibility.
Hidden in the city of Hamunaptra, his sarcophagus lies, and we, the med-jai, descendents of the Pharaoh's bodyguards must watch over it, and ensure he is never set free.
The man finishes his story and crosses his arms. "And that is why you cannot leave here, Marik. We, as the city, must remain secret!"
The blond boy being addressed is currently staring out into the distance, as visible through the window.
"Marik! Would you pay attention?" the man snaps.
"I am listening, father," the boy answers, lavender eyes glaring. "I just don't see why I have to be stuck here guarding some three-thousand-year-old half-rotted mummy. Even if someone finds the city, who would be stupid enough to actually release him?"
The man gives a long-suffering sigh. "That's just the way things are. Now go to bed."
As the blond boy runs off, his father coveres his face with a palm. "His sister and Rishid were never so much trouble…"
A/N²: Well, I have no idea who'll notice this edit, but for those who do… You have just witnessed M:YSPrologue v.2.0! Rejoice in its brand-new 100 (Er… excepting the italicized bits) first person version! As opposed to the one where is started in first then randomly flipped into past. What was up with that hey? And why did no one catch it! Feh! All's good now though.
Reviews would be much obliged! Including constructive criticism. Seriously, I can't get better if I don't know my mistakes!