Authors Note: Thank you guys for the support of the fic so far, I'm glad to know it's catching some attention. I love writing this kind of stuff, especially for Marik because I too agree that he's a character that's very under analyzed. Well, I'll stop squealing like a girl over you guys and your lovely comments and start writing! Again, thank you. C:

Chapter Three

"Making the Cut"

The world was a scary place. The people in it? Even more so. I had always been kept away from the outside world—I had never known much about it or anything at all, for that matter. Sure, on the outside I was brave and controlled myself to the utmost extent, but I did that mainly out of fear. After capturing the mind of the man who I had came across in the alleyway, I took his possessions and high-tailed it out of there. I had no idea as to whether or not he would know it was me. There was a fleeting panic about the moment as I dashed all the way back to that pathetic little hostel, wasting no time in seeing exactly what the man had handed over. I was in an almost insane state of shock, like the Pharaoh would show up at any moment and have me dragged back to Egypt. That wasn't possible, though. Nobody knew I was here, and I planned on keeping it that way.

As I made my way back up to the shabby little room I had rented, I fumbled around in my pocket for the key and jammed it into the lock. I opened it quickly and locked the dorm tight as I stepped in. The candle I had left on by my bedside was still burning, leaving a little bit of light to illuminate the room. With a heavy pant, I threw the stuff down I had taken from the man and carefully pulled out the Millennium Rod from under my shirt. This rod… what other hidden powers did it hold? Could I really control people at my own whim? It was a bit astonishing; I had heard of its powers, but never had I experienced them to such an extent before. Placing the rod down at the end of my bed, I surveyed the goods I had managed to take from the man. There was a huge wallet with money practically overflowing out of its pockets, a small leather bag that had a deck of Duel Monster cards inside, and a strange looking blue book. I picked it up, wary of it for only a moment before opening it. It was two tickets from Damascus, Africa to Australia that left in three days. The man must have been planning to head out of Africa starting tomorrow. The tickets were addressed in his name, there was no changing that.

"If I could… If I could get to Damascus, I could go to the airport…" I trailed off, finding myself pacing back and forth as I tried to think up a plan. Where was Australia, even? Was it close to Japan? And what the hell was I supposed to do when I got there? "Goddamn…" My thoughts took a sharp turn as I glanced over at the bag containing the cards. Duel Monsters, they were called. Upon further inspection, I came to the conclusion that these cards were the ones that the Gods were embodied in. From what I was able to gather, there were two basic parts to each card: attack and defense points. Other than that, I was completely lost. I flipped through them for a couple minutes more, placing certain cards down on the bed beside me and sorting out which ones were powerful. At that point, I knew nothing about strategy—I just wanted the ones with the big numbers. As I finished looking through, I found myself staring up at the ceiling; somehow, feeling completely hopeless. What could I do? There was nothing—I thought I had a lead, but now where had it gotten me? What was I even going after…?

"The cards, Marik." I mumbled, "And the items. For your father. For your sister." Raising myself from the bed, I walked over to the small mirror positioned at the far end of the room and stared at my reflection. "You didn't come this far for nothing, you can do this. It's a matter of time; planning and time. You have to figure out the secrets to the Millennium Rod; you have to plan each step accordingly." I trailed off, realizing that I had been talking to myself like a bit of a madman. I scowled a little at my reflection, upset with what I saw. God, I needed a bath.

Then it hit me.

"I could… go to the airport and control the people into getting me a ticket for Japan, wherever that is. Maybe somewhere even remotely near there." I looked back at the wallet filled with money, feeling myself smirk just an inch. "Why didn't I think of that before?" I rushed into the washroom, feeling a sudden boost in my morale. I could do this. I could. There was a pail near the edge of the rotting old washroom that caught rain-water; something considered quite a luxury in these dry times. I picked it up, wincing at the smell of it. It had to have been stagnant for over two months now. Still, I wouldn't let the repugnant odor ruin my mood. I brought the bucket out into the main room, placing it on the floor and kneeling down beside it. Slowly, I pulled together all my hair and dunked it into the water. Scrubbing out the caked in dirt and dust was hard enough—I also had to keep my balance so not to tumble over and knock out all the water. After twenty minutes or so, I had finally cleaned out the most of it (or the best it was going to get) and shook my head around a while to dry it off. I brought myself back up to the mirror, a bit relieved to see my original color coming through once more. It had grown long in the time I had been gone, though. Ishizu was always the one to cut my hair, but it seemed like now I had to do it on my own. I rummaged around the room for a while before finding a sharp piece of metal that was clean enough to cut through.

"Just don't cut yourself." I mumbled, pulling the metal up and holding a chunk of hair in my hand as I began to cut through. Strands of grayish hair fell to the floor, collecting in various groups around my feet. By the time I was done, my hair was incredibly choppy and uneven, but at least it was cut and clean.

I couldn't help but smile at the outcome (even though my face was still dirty as hell,) and feel a bit better about the next part of my plan. With that money I had stolen, tomorrow was definitely a clean up, get out of this disgusting hostel day. I just had to make it to Damascus alive.

Make it to Damascus.

Damascus.


The next day, I made my way into the upper region in order to find myself some new clothes and food. There were markets all over the area, so all I had to do was pick and choose. I was still in traditional Egyptian wear; it just didn't seem right for what I was trying to do. Once I found a place with actual running water, I washed my face up quickly and made my way out to buy some new clothes. It didn't take long; I stumbled upon this neat little clothing stall run by an older looking woman. As soon as I walked in, she stood up quite abruptly.

"Perfect thing for you. Perfect thing." Were the only words I could decipher from her deep and toned accent. I watched her run around the stall, gathering a few things. I waited quite patiently, surprisingly enough. Finally she came back with a handful of clothes—a short purple shirt, some long black pants and black shoes. As she shoved them into my hands, she pulled out a handful of golden chains and a pin. "Put clothes on."

I flushed. "R-Right now?"

"Put clothes on."

I felt incredibly awkward—she was staring at me, demanding me that I took off my clothes. Well, I didn't think she was planning on… ah, whatever. She was like sixty-five, I wasn't too worried about her grabbing me or anything; I was more worried about that tattoo. I faced my chest towards her, trying to make sure she couldn't see my back as I quickly pulled off my torn robes and put on the fresh fabric. I felt as light as a feather. I had never seen clothes like this, let alone worn them. Without warning, she grabbed onto my shirt and yanked me forward.

"Ouch!"

"Still. Stay." She mumbled, shoving a pin into the front of the shirt and beginning to work away. Within minutes, there were two golden chains sown across the front of my shirt—small, but they added a little extra to the overall appearance. She rushed into the back again, rummaging through various boxes until she came back with a handful of golden rings that snapped on and off.

"Three for neck. Five for arms. One for muscle." I didn't need to do any work, it seemed. She just started putting them all on me, making me twitch just the tiniest bit but I tried not to pay any mind to it. By the time she was done, I felt… refreshed. I walked over to a broken mirror, looking myself over a little. It did seem to suit me, and they even matched my earrings. Making my way back over to my old clothes, I pulled out the stolen wallet and my Millennium Rod to give her the money. After a quick exchange of thank-you's, I was gone.

That was the first and last time I paid for anything. But hey, she deserved it.

I walked down the street now, completely determined. I was going to get to that damn airport, no matter what it took. I felt lighter, the world felt a bit clearer, and I had an ancient power ready and able at my side. There was a sort of unstoppable nature about it all, something that made me feel quite empowered. So, as I made my way down the street, I couldn't help but feel like things were starting to go my way.

For now.