((Here's the next chapter! Thanks to Reaper-of-Lost-Souls for the favoriting of this story! You are the only one but every bit of kindness counts to me! So Reaper-of-Lost-Souls, this one's for you, buddy!))

Chapter 2: Save My Soul

Bakura, King of Thieves, arch-rival to the Pharaoh. He had it all. Food, drink, women, and followers who would do his bidding or die. He was currently planted in his seat at his tavern. Yes, it was his and no one was there to deny it or defy him. His crimson gaze looked around before returning to his mug. No one new was there so he didn't have to assert dominance tonight, unless someone got a little too drunk to know who was boss. He lost more men that way.

'Speaking of losing people...' he thought, his mind going back to the young woman who was slaughtered just that afternoon. He was planning on robbing the Pharoah's palace during that time but when he heard it was his jailbird friend, he had to watch. And what a show she put on. Most women he knew would do anything to get on the good side of Pharaoh, just short of offering their lives but willingly giving up their first-born sons "in the name of the gods". It was obvious by the girl's attire that she'd lost her virginity and pretty much everything dear to her. But still, she defied the Pharaoh. After everything she'd been put through, the only way she could have survived was as a whore. But she didn't take the easy route. She said her piece and the punishment was swift after who knows how long she'd been in his clutches.

And she smiled at him with her last dying breaths. The color of her blood soaked the scraps of cloth that were barely even covering her torso. She looked good in red, that nameless broken girl. Just remembering those dark eyes glaring up at him in the moonlight got him hard with want. Too bad she was gone now. He could have shown her a good time instead of taking her body for his own pleasure.

Bakura's eyes shot away from his mug as he sensed a presence at his table. A new entity that he hadn't felt until that very moment. And he saw a young woman with eyes of molten gold and hair the color of the midnight sky. She was shrouded in robes of silver and dark blue, feet covered in black cloth mimicking shoes. "Thief King..." Her tone was anything but questioning.

His silver brow rose threatening. This woman was too bold, coming up to him without any fear in sight. "What do you want? With the right amount of gold, I might grant you a night in my bed..." His frown flashed into a smirk. Best teach her a lesson in the sack. And if she refused him, he could toss her to his own men for a lesson or ten of their own.

The woman appeared unphased as she raised her right hand to summon him. "Come with me. I need to speak with you about your destiny..."

He was about to threaten her when she turned and walked away. Now, as the thief king, he was under no obligation to do what she wanted him to. But he couldn't just let her get away. So he took a swig of his drink and headed outside, his red cloak flowing behind him.

The night air felt cold against his face as he followed the wench into an alley. The moon shown down and he could have sworn that it focused solely on her. Instead of feeling the anger, he was intrigued. This mysterious girl had his attention now.

"You, Bakura, met a young girl in the Pharaoh's prison... and again during her execution... Go retrieve her from the desert." She pointed to the West.

Bakura chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm a tombrobber... not a priest, willing to give a corpse a proper funeral." He couldn't believe he'd wasted his relaxing time on a crazy bitch who wanted him to go corpse-hunting. Turning to leave, he blinked, coming face-to-face with the beautiful woman. He took a step back, looking at where she had been but only finding moonlight and sand.

"You must not dismiss this, Bakura. The girl is still alive but will not be for much longer. By the will of Bastet, she can be your greatest ally."

"The day I rely on a bitch for help will be the day I surrender willingly to Pharaoh!" He laughed mockingly, knowing that he would sooner bite his tongue off and drown in his own blood.

She did not remove her golden eyes from his face. Her pouty red lips looked black in the moonlight. "She needs your help to fullfill her destiny and help you with yours. Pharaoh must be stopped but you must save her to win. At your present state, you will fail."

Bakura's blood-red eyes narrowed. He didn't like that implication but he figured it was worth a shot. He walked passed her, shoving her to the side as he left. He heard the woman sigh and turned to growl at her. But she was gone, the moonlit area shimmering.

Bastir looked around, trying to see within the darkness. Nothing seemed real, she was sure she was floating instead of standing. Even her thoughts were skewed as she tried to remember what had happened. The Pharaoh was wrong, she told him so after weeks of torture and abuse of all kinds, and she was killed with a spear through her heart.

'So that's it? I'm dead? Explains why it feels so cold but is there nothing more I can do? There has to be something! Pharaoh won't stop with my unjustified death!' Her eyes filled up with rage as she thought of how many before her had suffered, about who else in the future will follow that same path. She glared around her and yelled, "Let me out of here, Osiris! You can have my soul after I destroy Pharaoh!"

A light flashed to her right and there sat a cat. Golden eyes gazed up at her, sandy fur flexed softly as it stood up.

"You're the cat from the building..." she whispered softly.

As it stood up, it morphed into a beautiful young woman with those same gold eyes, long black hair was her upper body's only cover. She donned no robes and stood proudly as mist wove around her to cover her secret place between her legs, forming a wispy skirt that ended at her ankles. The half-naked woman smiled at her and she began to speak.

"You claim to want to kill the corrupt Pharaoh... The price of killing the flesh-god is very steep. Do you still wish to kill your god?"

Bastir's dark eyes narrowed. "He is no longer my god... a god would not torment his people for false crimes that he makes up to suit himself."

"Very well... Then I shall give you the chance to do so." The darkened surroundings vanished to reveal the desert. The sands were colored a midnight blue, the moon spreading it's fairy-light to aid their eyes. At the woman's feet lay Bastir's body. "A man is coming here. You will need his energy to remain in this world. I can only start your heart. So find a way to get his energy to heal the hole in your body."

Morphing back into an Egyptian Mau, the cat-woman pawed the girl's body and reached into the gaping hole. Once her claws touched the heart, she removed her paw and Bastir's consciousness was dragged back into her body.

Bakura looked around the desert, getting more and more pissed off. He knew he should have just stayed in the tavern but no! He just had to follow the crazy bitch! Where was the corpse?! And what was he supposed to do with it once he found it?!

Growling about how much time he wasted, he was ready to head back to drink his sorrows away when a heart-stopping scream filled the dark land. He turned and followed the sound to a corpse... that was breathing? No, it was struggling to. The chest was moving up and down much too fast. He got off his horse and kneeled beside the young woman. Her dark eyes now had a gold hue to them, the hole in her chest once again spewing out blood. Bakura tried to stop the flow but was easily failing.

He gazed around, trying to find help. But the only thing around him was his horse and an idle-looking cat. Looking back down at her, his crimson orbs locked with her golden ones. Her blood-soaked hand grabbed hold of his red robes and pulled herself up, locking lips and kissing him.

Almost immediately, Bakura felt his energy leave him. He tried to move away but this bitch was strong. He couldn't get away. Just as he was about to pass out, she let go, her body falling back into the sand, eyes now shut. She was breathing just fine and where the hole was, was pale flesh and bloody torn cloth that exposed her breast. His own breathing was labored and he considered leaving her there. But the goddess' words haunted his mind.

"At your present state, you will fail..."

Well, as insulting as that statement was, he figured he was better safe than sorry and picked up the dead-no-more girl, slumping her over his horse and heading back to the tavern where he was staying. Where else did he have to take her? His lair was off limits since he didn't know if he could trust her yet. At least no one would ask any questions about the girl and just assume she was a whore. He'd been known to take women while they were asleep. Just another thing for the King of Thieves to steal.

((This took... so long to write. I swear, I had the scenes in my head but on paper, it's soooooo much longer and harder to write! Well, here's hoping that it was satisfactory. Read and review, please!))