Yu-Gi-Oh! Mark of Death

Chapter 4: "Ties"

Opening Theme: "Raining" by Art Of Dying

Ending Theme: "Behind Blue Eyes" by Limp Bizkit


The four friends arrived at the trailer within the 4 PM hour, which gave them plenty of time to hang out and talk for the rest of the afternoon.

As they all talked and reminisced, Violet found herself unable to keep her eyes from darting to look at Mike. The duel he and Danny had wrapped up hours ago had just proven to her that Mike really was the same person that she'd fallen for fourteen years ago, and she felt ashamed to have ever thought otherwise like she had before.

Though she thought she was doing a good job at keeping her glances at Mike secretive, little did she know that Mike had immediately taken notice of them out of the corner of his eye. And also unbeknownst to her was the fact that Mike still felt the same way for her as she did for him—he was just better at concealing his feelings than she was.

After a few hours, as Danny and Marina argued about what was more important—studying for your dream life or practicing academics—Mike glanced at his watch to check the time.

"Five-fifty, guys," he interrupted their argument, gaining both of their attentions as they now checked their own devices.

Danny let out a low whistle as he shoved his phone back in his back pocket while saying, "Good save there, Mike! I'm heading out!"

And as always, he took a leaping bound out the door of the trailer as he cried out, "Later, guys!" before dashing for home on his skateboard.

Marina now stood up as well, stretching her arms as she shot Violet a look, as if saying 'I can't believe THAT is the guy that I like,' before saying to her two friends, "Well, I guess we should all be taking off then. See you tomorrow."

Mike and Violet bid her their goodbyes before Marina stepped out of the trailer as well, leaving the two alone on the couch.

Mike now stood to follow suit as Violet's mind raced. This was a perfect opportunity to discuss her feelings with him, while they were alone and he was right in front of her. She wanted to take the chance—to be honest about her affection for him and make her love known.

But the same things held back her words: the chance that he didn't care for her in the same way, and the possibility that maybe he'd met someone else while he was away.

It was times like these where she hated being so emotionally fragile. It made it so difficult for her to come clean about how she really felt to anyone since she was always afraid of being hurt.

"Hey, you coming?"

She snapped out of her thoughts at Mike's voice, and looked to see he was looking to her as he stood in the trailer's doorway.

"Um..." she managed to mutter out as she composed herself, "Yeah, it's just that..."

Mike now watched her inquisitively as she took a breath, unsure of what she was going to say afterwards before blurting out, "Would you mind walking home with me?"

Violet nearly clasped her hands onto her mouth after she said that, but resisted. She didn't know where it had come from, and it certainly wasn't along the lines of what she really wanted to say to him. And if he didn't care for her like that back, then this might've been asking too much.

But whatever divine power was in charge of luck had to have been smiling down on Violet, as Mike only gave a small chuckle before replying with, "Yeah, of course."

Violet thanked whatever divine being was watching over her as she stood up, and Mike kept the door open for her as she stepped out from the trailer into the construction yard. Mike followed suit, but as he did found himself surprised when the ring of his cell phone came from within his duster.

Violet stopped to look at Mike, who held up a finger to give her the signal that he needed a second as he pulled his phone from his duster's inside pocket. He unlocked his screen to look at the text he had just received:

Dr. Crawford: sorry to bother you, but i need you to come by my office at 8 tonight. its important.

Mike could tell that this was definitely an unavoidable matter given that Dr. Crawford had emphasized the urgency of his presence. He immediately replied back:

Mike: ill be there, dont worry.

Now he replaced his phone in his pocket as he looked back to Violet, who looked at him with a curious face. "Got somewhere I have to be later tonight," he explained to her, "Nothing bad."

"At this hour?" she questioned as she now began walking alongside Mike.

"Yeah," Mike replied as they crawled underneath the fence and started walking into the city, "Only two days back in town and I'm already a busy man."

Violet couldn't help but giggle at this remark as she felt her smile plaster itself to her face. She'd never felt this genuinely happy in a long time.


The two spent their walk through the city in silence as the sun set behind the large towers in the city. They were each silent for different reasons: Violet was afraid of saying practically anything to Mike, given the fact that she didn't want to say anything that might possibly push him away.

Little did she know that Mike had a similar conflict going on inside his own mind, but his reasons were far different—particularly since they revolved around how he felt about himself. The events of the last two years still weighed way too heavily on his heart, and he was afraid that, if Violet ever saw who—much less what—he'd become during that time, it would push her away. And he didn't want to take that chance.

Eventually, they were each able to push their worries aside when they finally arrived at Violet's place, however Mike was surprised to see where they had ended up:

"One of the old apartment buildings...?" he questioned with raised eyebrows, looking up at the worn-out, brick building before them, "What happened to your dad's deli?"

He looked to her for an answer, but she couldn't bring herself to meet Mike's eyes. When she looked up at him to find that hadn't let up with his inquiring stare, she let out a sigh before looking to the building as she explained: "There was a vermin infestation... got so bad that it ran him out of business..."

A shock went through Mike. Violet's father, Bulbous Alyssum, didn't seem like the kind of guy who would let his business be overrun by mice and rats. His shop had always been the most popular sandwich shop in the city. And though he was the kindest man there was, he had the toughness needed to fight through anything no matter what the situation.

"I can only imagine how hard that must've hit him..." Mike figured as he observed the old apartment.

Violet could only nod as she started, "Believe me, you don't wanna know—"

She was interrupted by the sound of her own cell phone ringing, taking her by surprise. She took her phone from her pocket to see who was calling, and Mike could tell from the look on her face that it wasn't someone she was very fond of hearing from. She shot him an apologetic look, to which he nodded his understanding as she now turned away and answered in a low voice:

"Hey Dad, listen; I'm—

"... yes, I know I'm a little late, but—

"... Dad, I—!"

Mike was surprised to hear that this was Bulbous Alyssum on the phone with Violet. He couldn't make out his words, but it was definitely his voice that he was overhearing—only with a tone that was beyond infuriated.

That particularly threw Mike off. He had never known Bulbous to have any kind of temper. Clearly more things had changed far more than he'd expected over the last two years.

"... Dad, I'm standing right outside—!

"... I'm sorry, alright?!"

It pained Mike to listen to the voice of the girl he loved become distressed. It was bad enough that Bulbous seemed shorter-tempered than before, but now he could distinguish a trait in Bulbous's dialect that he hadn't noticed before: slurred speech.

Mike specifically remembered that, back in the day, Bulbous loathed and detested alcohol more than probably anything else. The idea of him drunkenly shouting at Violet from the other end of the phone was an image in his mind that he couldn't find it in himself to fathom.

"... Dad, I'll be inside in a minute—!"

Whatever Bulbous had interrupted her with next left Violet wide-eyed as she froze, petrified and tense. Mike could barely make out from Bulbous's screaming voice what he had said, but the look on Violet's face told him that he'd heard right.

"Dad..." Violet was now choking up, "That's completely unfair...!"

Mike heard Bulbous shout something short, before a click sounded from the receiver as Violet took her phone from her ear, now turning to Mike with tears welling in her eyes.

Mike shook his head, signaling for her not to say a word as he approached her. But he barely needed to take a step before she threw herself into his arms as she completely broke down, bawling into his chest.

Mike held her close and let her get it all out. He guided her to the steps that led in and out of the apartment building so she could sit as she cried into his shoulder. She didn't seem to mind just dropping her school bag and binders to the side, even though they exposed the scribbles of his name that she'd written on them. But Mike kept his attention on her, hoping that she might begin to understand how he really felt for her.

A few minutes passed before Violet finally managed to pull herself together, and lifted her head from Mike's shoulder as he pulled from his duster a handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it gratefully as she wiped away her tears.

"Thanks..." was all she managed to say to him as she handed back the cloth, now scrambling to pick up her folders and her bag, realizing that her scribbles had been visible.

"Don't mention it," Mike replied simply as he replaced the cloth in his pocket, and Violet stood to face him. He didn't know if it was intentional, but the look in her stormy-gray eyes was nothing but pure affection for him as she stared into his ocean-blue eyes.

"I guess I'll see you around," she said, though her expression seemed to suggest otherwise, for some reason.

Mike didn't question it, but instead just began to reply, "Yeah, I guess—"

He was cut off when Violet made the move that completely took him by surprise: she leaned towards his face and kissed him on the cheek, before darting like a bullet up the stairs that led inside the apartment, and disappeared within its lobby.

Mike stood there, paralyzed in surprise as he took in what had just happened. The girl he loved—that he also knew for sure loved him—had just kissed him on the cheek. He almost couldn't believe it; he even raised his hand to the spot he'd felt her lips meet his face as if to try and tell if it had happened or not, but his memory didn't lie.

But he didn't have time to linger on what had just happened: a little over an hour had passed, meaning he had little under an hour to get back to Dexterity High and meet with Dr. Crawford for whatever it was he wanted to talk about so urgently.

Mike's coat flailed behind him as he spun and started walking back the other way, not wanting to let his former therapist and principal down.


It was a little past 8 PM when Mike finally made it back to Dexterity High in the center of the city. He hoped Dr. Crawford would be able to forgive him for his tardiness; the situation with Violet earlier had not been part of his time schedule.

Inside the school, he knew the elevator was locked down during the nightly hours, meaning he had to climb the four floors' worth of stairs to the top floor. He found it funny to think that, two years beforehand, he would have been out of breath by the time he reached the fourth floor from the first, but this time around he didn't even break a sweat.

He made his way down the hallway towards Dr. Crawford's office, where he could see a faint light coming from the crack in the slightly open door. Just before he knocked to request entry, he was surprised to hear a man's voice other than Dr. Crawford's from inside:

"You know I don't like being kept waiting, Skeldon."

"I know, yes..." came Dr. Crawford's voice in response, though his tone seemed fearful of the other man in the room with him, "I told him what time to arrive—"

"No excuses," the other voice interrupted irritably, "You told me this young man had plenty of potential."

"I assure you, that's the truth—"

Mike decided to break up the squabble by knocking, cutting Dr. Crawford off as a steady silence took over for a moment.

It only lasted for a moment or two before it was broken by Dr. Crawford, who had taken what sounded like a nervous gulp before saying, "Come in."

Mike entered into the office to find it just as it was the day before, with Dr. Crawford sitting in his chair behind his desk. The only difference was the presence of another man on the other side of the desk in one of the two guest chairs.

This man had short, neat brown hair that matched his stern, hazel eyes. The entirety of his facial expression bore the same sternness, and Mike realized why Dr. Crawford had to have been sounding slightly frightened before.

The man's attire was that of a brown sport coat over a normal black shirt, and dark-tan pants donned his legs. His polished black shoes seemed shinier than they probably looked in the daylight, as the lights above their heads contrasted with the darkness of the night outside. He would've stood at 6'2" at full height.

"Ah, Mr. Harper..." Dr. Crawford breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm glad you could make it—"

"Nearly ten minutes late," the other man interjected, eyeing Mike with what looked like a mild annoyance, "Don't you know the expression 'early is on time,' boy?"

Mike stared calmly back into the eyes of the stern, seated man. Dr. Crawford looked like he was on the edge of his seat as he adjusted his glasses while speaking, "I assume you haven't met Mr. Copperson before, Mike?"

Mike's eyes widened as he looked to Dr. Crawford and then back to who he had now just been introduced to as he extended his arm to shake Mike's hand.

Andrew Copperson had been the mayor of County Dame since Mike had entered middle school. His term had never ended since he had always done such a pristine job at running the city, and the people had always chosen him over any other candidate who tried to run for the position. And the fact that Dr. Crawford was able to address him as just "Mister" Copperson could only have meant that the two had to be close in some regard, so Mike figured it would be wise to put his best foot forward.

"I sincerely apologize for my lateness," Mike spoke with earnest as he took Mr. Copperson's hand with a firm grasp, "I'm afraid there were complications that I ran into on my way here that couldn't be avoided."

As their hands parted, Mr. Copperson eyed Mike carefully as the latter took a seat in the chair opposite the Mayor. "You couldn't choose more appropriate attire for a meeting like this?" Mr. Copperson said, as if trying to taunt Mike.

"Well, I've only been back for two days, now," Mike spoke honestly as he got himself comfortable, "I really haven't gotten a chance to expand my wardrobe beyond this."

He closed that last statement as he looked down upon his black duster, and Mr. Copperson almost looked like he was amused by this response. "Fair enough..." he said, "By your lack of preparation for this meeting, I'm going to assume you don't know why you were summoned you here."

He shot Dr. Crawford a steely look, clearly expressing his disappointment in his colleague for not informing Mike better. Dexterity High's principal seemed to shrink in his seat as he rested his head on his intertwined fingers.

Now Mr. Copperson looked back to Mike as he explained, "I was told that you had requested to take private courses away from your peers to complete your high school education. That's quite the ambitious request."

"So much so that it's unrealistic?" Mike inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Not necessarily," County Dame's Mayor assured, "But you see, a request like that still needs to be agreed upon by the city's school board; and that's where I come in."

Mike remained silent as his gaze now locked onto Mr. Copperson's, who continued: "We can't just give such a customized education to a young man who'd disappeared for so long a time for no adequately explained reason. So I just have a few questions I'd like to ask you about your activities over the last two years. It's a board member thing, you understand."

Mike's eyes narrowed. "Fine by me," he spoke, though his mind did not agree with that statement in the slightest, "I have nothing to hide."

"The first question, then..." Mr. Copperson began as he now crossed his legs comfortably, "Where were you for the last two years?"

There was a silence in the room for only a moment filled with intensity. Dr. Crawford could tell by the look in his old patient's eyes that this was definitely something he would rather not talk about, but was surprised when Mike finally answered:

"Ever heard of a place called Frontier Haven?"

Both Dr. Crawford's and Mr. Copperson's eyes widened slightly at this response. "Frontier Haven..." Mr. Copperson repeated, scoffing slightly as he did so, "Yes, I've heard the rumors about it. An old western town that's plagued with constant conflict with another old town."

"That's the one," Mike confirmed.

It was Mr. Copperson's turn to narrow his eyes now. "Where in Frontier Haven did you stay?" he inquired.

"With a friend," Mike replied simply.

"What friend?"

"He's since passed on, sir."

Dr. Crawford's face turned grim while Mr. Copperson leaned back in his chair, tensing up as he took in the information while looking into Mike's eyes. He could normally tell if someone was able to lie and look honest about it, but this time was different: Mike's eyes held no real emotion or truth, yet at the same time something in them convinced him that his words were true, as if they were incapable of telling any kind of lie because of some traumatic experience.

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

Mike hesitated as he averted his eyes at this question. Dr. Crawford and Mr. Copperson could immediately tell that this question had triggered some kind of nerve within Mike. Clearly whatever he had gone through in Frontier Haven had left more of a mark on him than anyone else could have thought.

"Yes."

Dr. Crawford's eyes widened as he turned his head in alarm to Mr. Copperson, unable to believe what his old patient and student had just admitted to him. If he knew Mr. Copperson as well as anyone else did, then he knew that an answer like that would result in Mike getting locked up in prison for who-knew-how-long.

But he was ultimately surprised when he heard Mr. Copperson's response escape through his lips: a small chuckle.

"Good answer," he replied with a grin, "That was a trick question to see if you were a liar. If the rumors about that place bear any truth, then I imagine that you likely ended up caught in the middle of the battles waged out there."

"Actually, there aren't any more battles happening out there now," Mike corrected the Mayor, causing the latter's eyebrows to rise.

"Is that so?" he inquired with interest, "And how is it that came to be?"

"Well, I could tell you, but then we'd have to sit here for another hour, and I'm sure you're a very busy man," Mike explained, though his voice gave both Mr. Copperson and Dr. Crawford the impression that Mike actually didn't want to elaborate any further on his time away. But there was still enough honesty in his voice to convince them that he meant what he said about needing to take a while to explain everything that had happened.

So instead, Mr. Copperson shifted in his seat as he said, "Well, let me assure you that I won't be reporting this to any authorities. That town is one of the few lawless areas left in this country; beyond the jurisdiction of our type of law enforcement. So if you're ever inquired about it, you best say that it was purely out of self-defense."

"I understand," Mike confirmed, "And I appreciate that. Thank you."

Mr. Copperson only nodded before glancing back at his clipboard again. "Now, you said you wished to have a private education separated from your former classmates. We could easily accommodate you with nightly courses here for a GED, but first..."

He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from the bag as he now looked back to Mike. "I want to hear what it is that you want to do upon completing these classes."

Mike stayed silent for a moment, deciding the best way to word what he was about to say. It was going to sound absurd to both Dr. Crawford and County Dame's mayor, but in Mike's mind it was something he absolutely had to do.

"Well..." he said, "I was actually thinking of trying to enter the Professional Dueling Circuit."

Just as Mike expected, Dr. Crawford and Mr. Copperson let that sink in for a minute before the mayor began laughing, as if he had just heard an 'okay' joke. "The Pro Circuit..." he repeated after catching his breath, "Well, you've set a very high bar for yourself, haven't you?"

"Is it one that's impossible to reach from where I stand?" Mike inquired casually.

He could tell Mr. Copperson could barely take his idea seriously by the way he now cleared his throat, obviously trying to decide in his mind how to respond. "I wouldn't say it's impossible..." he admitted, "But it would be difficult for someone of your status to enter into such a prestigious business. Normally, you'd have to be a member of one of the Dueling Legacy families, like the Cyber Style Clan, in order to qualify as worthy to enter."

Mike's eyes narrowed at this. "Any reason why you bring up that Legacy in particular?" he asked with a definite shift in his tone.

Mr. Copperson's eyebrows rose. "As a matter of fact..." he replied, "The actual heir to the Cyber Style Clan recently joined the ranks of the Pro Circuit from here in County Dame; joined about a year and a half ago, actually. He's currently touring across Asia right now."

"I see..." Mike muttered as he processed this.

Mr. Copperson cocked his head as a curious expression adorned his face. "What's your interest?" he questioned.

"Pure curiosity," Mike lied, though the way he spoke and acted through this part of their conversation clearly told Mr. Copperson that something seemed to bother Mike about the Cyber Style's heir. Dr. Crawford hoped that Mike's reluctance to say what was really bothering him wouldn't reflect badly on Mr. Copperson's decision to give him his education.

Luckily, it seemed Mr. Copperson didn't care, as he then jotted down a few notes before moving on to say, "Well, I believe I have all that I came here for, so I best be going."

Mr. Copperson rose from his chair as Mike did, picking up the small business bag at his side as he did so, and placing his papers within it as he spoke, "I'll be meeting with the board of education tomorrow, and I will contact you through Dr. Crawford when we have deliberated."

He held out his hand to Mike—although reluctantly—and Mike took it and shook firmly. "Sounds good to me," was Mike's reply.

Now Mr. Copperson withdrew his hand as he looked to Dr. Crawford. "Good night, Skeldon," he addressed him more politely.

"Good night, Andrew," Dr. Crawford returned before County Dame's mayor shot one steelier look at Mike as he stepped out the door, and disappeared down the hallway.

There was a silence for a moment as Mike stood there and Dr. Crawford relaxed in his chair, the tension leaving his body.

Mike finally managed to break the silence as he sighed, before saying, "Wow... haven't felt that much tension since the last time someone tried to kill me."

Dr. Crawford could only give a chuckle at that remark, which to Mike sounded like he was appreciative of him lightening the mood a bit.

But as Dr. Crawford calmed himself down again, his face became serious as he looked to Mike, who now said, "Thanks for calling me here. And sorry about the lateness."

Dr. Crawford shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he assured him, "With any luck, I think you may have a good chance of getting your nightly classes, at least."

Mike nodded in understanding as his eyes wandered around the room for a moment. "I guess I'll be going, then," Mike figured as he began taking a step out the door.

"Just a moment, actually..." Dr. Crawford spoke, stopping Mike halfway out the door, "There's one thing I wanted to ask you about."

Mike turned to face his old therapist in the doorway as Dr. Crawford spoke, "Your interest in the heir to the Cyber Style... it wasn't just curiosity, was it?"

Mike averted eye contact with Dr. Crawford as he hesitated in his response. If Mike let himself say what he wanted to about what he knew about the heir to the Cyber Style, then it would give away just what kind of endeavors Mike had had to put up with for the last two years. And that was the last thing he wanted anyone knowing.

"We've... met."

Mike chose his words carefully as he spoke, though from the tone of his voice Dr. Crawford could tell that Mike had more of a history with this duelist than he led on. But it was also evident that Mike wasn't keen on sharing just what kind of history that entailed.

Instead, Dr. Crawford only nodded to confirm his understanding. "Very well..." he spoke to Mike, "Good night, Mike."

"Good night, sir," Mike returned before stepping into the hallway, leaving Dr. Crawford—and hopefully, the memories that conversation had brought up in him—behind.


- Flashback -

Mike fell flat on his back in the sand as the shadow of Aeron's ace creature looming above him disappeared, letting the setting sunlight hit him again as Aeron's steel cable retracted itself from Mike's arm.

[Mike - LP: 0]

[Winner: Aeron]

He was panting hard; he had never fought so hard or struggled so much in a duel in all of his life. He'd always thought that he ran a fairly decent deck, but Aeron's deck had just made it look like a grade-schooler's in comparison. He had never fought someone with this much skill and strength before, and the fact that this man had that much more power than him shook Mike to his core. Now he had no problem believing Aeron when he'd said he'd gone undefeated for the last twenty years.

Aeron now walked his way over to Mike as the latter struggled to sit himself up again, but found himself pushed back down as Aeron stomped his foot down on his chest, knocking the wind out of him as his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"That's what you call a duel?" he heard Aeron's emotionless voice talk down to him, "Pathetic."

Mike could barely muster the strength to lift his head and look up to his opponent. Normally, the pride he had in his dueling would've been hurt from such a derogatory insult, but what he saw when he looked up sent his mind into a fit of terrorizing panic: with his leg still firmly planted in Mike's chest, Aeron's right hand was aiming his revolver-shaped duel disk straight at Mike's face.

"I told you that this duel disk wasn't shaped just for its looks," Aeron reminded him, "You've failed the test."

Mike's heart was now beating faster than a computer's ability to process data as he shut his eyes, his body shivering as fear completely overtook him, and he waited for his last few moments of life to reach their end.

But just as Aeron had begun to clench his finger around the trigger of his firearm, Mike heard what sounded like a firm hand grasping a shoulder as a familiar, commanding voice spoke out: "That's enough, Aeron."

Mike opened his eyes to find, to his ultimate relief, that Samael was there, grabbing Aeron by the shoulder as the two men locked eyes with each other.

"There's no need to end this boy's life," Samael told Aeron calmly, "Step off him."

A few more moments passed before Aeron finally went, "Hmph," before removing his foot from Mike's chest, allowing him to take a long gasp of air as he struggled to refill his lungs with oxygen.

Now, as Aeron replaced his revolver in its holster, Samael extended a hand to Mike with what the latter could only identify as a kind of reassuring smile. Gratefully, Mike grasped the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet again.

"I watched the last half of your duel from afar," Samael revealed as he looked from Mike to Aeron, "And while I was not surprised by the outcome, there was something about you that intrigued me."

Mike raised one eyebrow at this remark as Samael explained to Mike, "You're clearly a strong duelist at heart, but your dueling felt like it was lacking; as though you had no motivation to even try and win."

Confusion scattered across Mike's brain as Aeron eyed Samael carefully, his own expression one of incertitude.

"Tell me," Samael now questioned Mike with an inquisitive stare, "Where you come from... is there something, or someone, that you particularly duel for? Not just for yourself?"

Mike immediately knew the answer to that question. "Well, yeah..." he answered honestly as he looked down to the sand beneath him, "I've always dueled for my friends... always fighting off the jerks at school who've tried to push us around. They've always given me the inspiration to fight my hardest to keep them safe..."

Samael nodded to confirm his understanding of what Mike was saying, before going silent for a moment as he processed these words.

"I see..." he finally spoke up after a time, "You've never fought for yourself, have you?"

Mike shook his head at this.

"Then that's why you lost..." Samael explained, "You can't be fighting like you used to for your friends. Out here, it's every man for himself—you either fight for yourself, or you die. And the way that you're dueling now is only going to get you killed."

Mike's eyes widened at this remark as Samael turned his back to him and Aeron. "You have the next two days left to train. I suggest that you find it in yourself to cut those ties to your old friends. They'll only get in your way from this point forward."

And with that, Samael now began walking back towards the town that was Frontier Haven not even a few yards away. Mike, meanwhile, was bewildered with what he'd just been told to do.

"Cut the ties... that I have with my friends...?!" he shot back at Samael, who now stopped in his tracks as he listened, "That's what you expect me to do?! I could never—!"

"You're never going to see them again."

Samael's words felt like the bullet that almost went through Mike's head earlier as they cut Mike off, leaving him paralyzed by what those words as Samael explained, "You think that, even if you manage to win your upcoming duel, you'll be able to just go back to your home, no questions asked?"

Mike had lost his voice in his shock, rendering him unable to answer. But even if he'd been able to, it suddenly dawned on him that he had no idea how he'd be able to make it back to his home anyway. He had no idea how far out into the desert he actually was, much less where Frontier Haven was really located. There was no way for him to tell which direction he would've had to walk in to find his way home, and the idea of walking out into the desert again with either little or no provisions sounded more like a suicide mission than anything else.

Samael took Mike's silence as him realizing what he'd been trying to convey. "You don't have a choice, I'm afraid," Samael made it clear to him, "And even if you did..."

Samael now held up his left arm as he rolled up his sleeve, revealing his X-shaped scar again. "You still bear this, just like the rest of us. And there's a reason why it's called the Mark of Death.

"You wouldn't want to bring that back to your friends..." Samael questioned Mike as he turned his head slightly to look back at him, "Would you?"

Mike was stunned silent as the realization tightened its grasp on him, forcing him to his knees. He had no more words that he could come back with—Samael had driven it home that there was no way Mike was able to get out of this.

Samael, seeing that his work was done here, now turned away again. "You have the rest of today, and the next two days, to train the boy," he now addressed Aeron, who had remained unmoving and silent as he watched the two converse.

"Understood," was all Aeron replied with.

Without another word, Samael began walking his way back into Frontier Haven, while Aeron now turned to look at Mike, who was still on his knees in the sand nearby as tears glazed over his eyes. He'd lost concept of time and the world around him as Samael's words finally sank in to him like daggers—there really wasn't any way for him to get home after all.

"Come on, get up."

Mike forced himself to look up and see, to his surprise, Aeron looming over him with a hand extended. His eyes were displaying what was the first hint of emotion that Mike had ever seen from him: sympathy.

Mike took grasp of Aeron's hand as he let the latter pull him back to his feet. "Thank you..." Mike managed to stammer out to him, but Aeron merely shook his head, as if to let him know that "thanks" weren't necessary.

"You're lucky that Samael seems to expect a lot from you," Aeron explained to him before turning his back to him, moving back towards where he'd stood during their duel just minutes ago.

Mike watched as Aeron walked with an inquisitive stare. "Just what does he expect me to do, anyway?" he implored, "Does he think I'm gonna be the one to take out that Keir guy?"

"That would appear to be the case," Aeron spoke as he continued walking, "For some reason, he seems hell-bent on believing that you can do it."

Mike's felt his gut wrench at this comment as Aeron continued, "It's like he said—he saw a potential within you that's being held back by your inability to duel for yourself."

Now Aeron turned to face Mike from where he stood during their last duel. "That's why it's my job to train you," he explained as he pulled out his revolver-duel disk again, "To break you out of that habit. Otherwise..."

Aeron's voice now turned even graver than Mike had ever heard from him before: "You will lose that duel, and you will die."

Mike took this in as he realized that Aeron's words were all completely true. He sure as hell wasn't going to be able to go home to his friends anytime soon, and it seemed there was no getting out of this upcoming duel without trying to run off, which would more than likely guarantee his death in the end.

So to Mike, there was only one option: he reactivated the revolver-duel disk upon his arm that Aeron had given him, his deck being automatically shuffled by it as he finally said, "No use wasting any time, then. Let's go again!"

Now Aeron cracked the smallest of smirks for the first time, seeing the renewed fire in Mike's eyes as they both drew five cards once again.

"DUEL!"

- Flashback End -


Mike couldn't find it in himself to sleep for the rest of the night after he'd returned to his hotel room, given his memories wouldn't stop floating around in his head like a bad nightmare that he couldn't wake from.

He was beginning to find it frustrating that he couldn't push the memories out of his mind now that he was finally back in County Dame. The whole reason he'd chosen to finally come home after two years was so that he'd be able to put these memories behind him, and to try and revert back to the person he'd been before he'd gone to Frontier Haven.

But as the hours passed on, it began to dawn on him that perhaps he'd been expecting results a little too quickly. It was only his second night back, after all; and memories like the ones that were haunting him would take time before they stopped popping into his mind so frequently.

Nevertheless, this didn't change the fact that he'd been unable to sleep for the entire night, so he tried turning his phone back on to try and text either Danny, Marina, or Violet. But he quickly decided against that in the end, as he expect any of them to be awake in the early hours of a Saturday morning, and he didn't want to wake them up.

The only thing he did find was another text from Violet that had been sent many hours before, reading:

Violet: im sorry about holding you up last night. dads grounded me so i cant see you or anyone for the next few weeks. thanks for staying with me though :)

Though he was touched that he'd been able to help her, something else now entered into his mind that took his thoughts off of his morbid memories: the fact that Violet's father, Bulbous, had appeared to have turned into an abusive alcoholic.

It made sense to Mike about why he was like this now, after having heard from Violet about his deli's closing, but it was still hard to believe that Bulbous had sunk to such a low point. And what was even more out of character for him was the fact that he'd grounded Violet, as he'd never really punished her for anything before.

He hadn't realized how long he had been pondering over these conundrums in his head until he finally checked the time on his phone, which read 5 AM. He couldn't believe how quickly the night had flown by, but he was glad that he'd been able to keep his mind busy throughout the night.

He lifted himself up off of his bed and made his way to the motel lobby, returning the small envelope with the key to the old man before walking into the city once more. He figured it would be best to re-familiarize himself with his former home, and he couldn't think of a better way to do so other than an early-morning stroll.

But to his surprise, he found that it wasn't hard to navigate the streetlight-lit roads at all: everything was still exactly where it had been before he'd left. All the retail outlets and fast food chains that he remembered were all still in the same places as he remembered, with the exception of the few that had apparently gone out of business or moved to other locations.

As he walked, he found that the homesickness that had plagued him while he was in Frontier Haven was finally beginning to disappear. The few hours he spent navigating the city helped begin to fill the hole that had been left in his heart from the last two years, making him feel more like who he'd been before.

But the more he realized his homesickness was going away, the more that word reminded him of what it was that he was missing: a home.

He'd already gone through three homes in his life, and he was only eighteen. He had watched his first home burn down before his eyes; the second had been an orphanage run by an old nun who didn't really care for the kids that she was charged with caring for; and the third that was Frontier Haven had put him through the two most traumatizing years of his life. And he knew he wouldn't be able to stay in the old motel any longer; the cost for staying there alone had already burned a huge hole in his pocket.

As he contemplated about a place where he'd be able to stay, he hadn't realized that his aimless wandering around County Dame had brought him back to the apartment that he had walked Violet home to the night before. He was only a few blocks away from the building before suddenly stopping at the sound of the opening and closing of its doors. And from afar, who he saw exiting the building made his eyebrows rise with surprise:

Out from the apartment walked a round, large, and bulky man with messy, unkempt brown hair and a beard of matching color and messiness. On him was a dark green t-shirt that was incapable of covering the entirety of his muffin-top belly, and the buttons on his large jeans looked as though they were about to snap off at any moment. He stood at an intimidating height of 6'4".

Despite his altered appearance, there wasn't a doubt in Mike's mind about who it was he was looking at. What he couldn't believe was how badly Bulbous had let himself go—he had always been big and stocky in figure, but nowhere close to this magnitude.

Now he watched Bulbous begin walking into the city as he wondered: where would a grown man like him have to travel to on foot at 7 AM in the morning?

Mike came to only one conclusion as to how he was going to get that answer: it was time for a game of 'follow the leader,' and Bulbous would be playing the leader.


Mike made sure to stay a good distance away from Bulbous, so as to seem like he wasn't stalking the man to any of the other early risers walking or driving about, or to attract Bulbous's attention and make him aware of the fact he was being followed.

As he treaded after Bulbous, he also found himself becoming more and more familiarized with his old home than before. Now he was beginning to remember all of his old shortcuts and landmarks that he used to hang out at, and the images of places that had once been etched into his mind were starting to come back too.

But as for the end result of his little chase, he was so stunned by where Bulbous had entered into that he had to stop and stare at it as he read its name from the outside:

"Park 'n Shop...?" he uttered as Bulbous disappeared within the supermarket's automatic doors.

It took him a moment, but it quickly made sense: given Bulbous's large size, it was clear that Bulbous liked going out to feed his indulgences early in the morning so no one else out of the major public saw him.

Then another thought occurred to Mike, brought about by the sudden rumble of his stomach: he hadn't really eaten anything in days, and he could have used some food as well. Now seemed like the perfect time to fill his stomach up with something so he could last a little longer. He just needed to be careful about how much he spent, as nearly all of the money he'd brought with him from Frontier Haven had gone to paying for that motel room. Now he had only a couple hundred dollars left in twenties, so he'd have to spend with caution.

Mike stepped his way into the store, and inside only picked out a few items: a couple of water bottles, a box of crackers, some fruit, and some milk cartons. That would at least tide him over for a couple of days, and it would only cost him around twenty dollars.

He was ready to proceed to the checkout lines before he saw Bulbous standing in one of the lines. Mike decided to hang back in one of the aisles just so he could observe the man from afar, and get a good look at his basket of goodies.

And just as he'd predicted, the basket was filled up with nothing but junk: puddings, two-liter soda bottles, beef jerkies, cookies and candies of all kinds, etc. Maybe a few years ago, as a young teenager, Mike would've appreciated having all that junk food to munch on. But now, looking at Bulbous's size, he couldn't have been more sick to his stomach.

It was in that moment that someone else in the background suddenly caught his eye: a man who looked to be about in his mid-twenties that had just entered the store wearing a dark-green hoodie, jeans, and a duel disk attached to his arm. His entire body seemed to be shaking somewhat, making his hands that were buried in his jacket seem like they were fidgeting with something.

Mike glued himself to the shelf in the aisle he was in. He wasn't getting a good vibe from this guy, and from all the experience he had with bad people, he was pretty good at being able to tell who was bad news and who wasn't.

It was only a few moments later when the hooded man began walking through one of the cashier's lanes, before suddenly grabbing the female cashier who had been tending to Bulbous's goodies in a chokehold with one arm, while pulling a gun out of his pocket with the other and aiming it at her head.

"EVERYONE GET ON THE GROUND!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as the sound of his gun cocking echoed through the store.

Without a moment's hesitation, nearly everyone in the store either shrieked, shouted, or both as they fell to the ground with their hands on their heads, as if bowing down to the man's power. And in this situation, he DID have all the power: he had a hostage and was armed with a firearm. No one would've run the risk of making any sudden movements.

That's why Mike's movements were slow and subtle as he crawled away along the aisle he was in, listening as the shaking gunman now used his hostage-taking hand to pull out a big cloth bag from his hoodie and throw it on the cashier's counter.

"Fill it up, quick!" the robber rushed, his breathing fast and almost panting.

The cashier, in her fright, immediately had the cash register open and was pouring every last dollar and coin from it that she could into her captor's bag as the armed man now shouted to the rest of the store's occupants, "IF I HEAR SO MUCH AS AN ALARM GO OFF, OR SEE ANYBODY MOVE, I'M GONNA DECORATE THIS CONVEYOR BELT WITH THIS WOMAN'S BRAINS!"

Bulbous, having been standing in front of that register earlier, had sunk to his knees and kept his hands on his head, but his steely-gray eyes didn't linger away from the crazed criminal before him.

Just as the register was emptied of its last coin, now the robber pointed the gun at Bulbous as his grip around the cashier tightened. "Now you, old coot!" the man demanded, "All your money, in the bag, now!"

Anyone who saw Bulbous's face would've thought that he was insane as an expression of anger took over his face as he now stood, towering over the cashier and robber before him.

"Over my dead body," was his dark, gruff voice's response.

The gunman's trigger finger was starting to twitch now. One bad shake, and he would've kill Bulbous where he stood.

"I mean it, old man!" the gunman persisted as sweat drenched his face, "I mean it, I'll shoot!"

"Not likely."

No one had even noticed Mike stealthily sneaking around from behind the crook before he said that, followed by throwing his arm up into the criminal's gun arm, which shot into one of the ceiling lights, dimming the area mildly as more shrieks echoed in the store.

Mike's maneuver managed to cause the shaking madman to drop his gun elsewhere, while also releasing his grip on the cashier as his attention now turned to hauling his fist at Mike, landing a blow into his abdomen that nearly knocked the wind out of him as he buckled. Seeing that his plan had been compromised, he grabbed his money bag and made a mad dash for the doors as the alarm finally began to blare.

Mike managed to stand himself up and regain control of his breathing just in time: he rushed out the door after the man, pulling out what looked like some kind of cuffs from one of his duster's pockets as he reached the parking lot. He aimed and launched one of the cuffs towards the fleeing robber, revealing that a long, steel cable connected the two. The one that had been launched managed to lock itself onto the hooded man's duel disk arm, jolting him to a stop as it forced his gun and his bag of money out of his hands, landing in a lump not five feet away.

Mike stopped and stood his ground where he was, determined to not let the deranged criminal go as he now desperately tried to unhook the cuff from his arm.

Now Mike used his other free hand to draw his pistol-shaped duel disk from its holster, arming his left arm with it as he called out to the gunman: "If you want to escape from this, I'll cut you a deal."

Mike had the madman's mad eyes locked onto his now as he attached the other cuff to his own duel disk arm. "If you can defeat me in a duel," Mike explained to him, "You're free to go and get your bag of dough over there."

He tried to choose his words carefully so as to not set off the lunatic he was facing. His shaking, his heavy breathing, his rushed speech; all of those things seemed like pretty obvious signs that Mike didn't want to push any of this man's buttons.

A crowd had now formed around the two duelists from people both in the parking lot and inside the store. No one could even begin to understand what Mike seemed to have in mind except for himself:

'As long as I keep this guy preoccupied until the cops arrive,' Mike reasoned, 'I can keep this nut-job from hurting anyone and keep him detained.'

Now, as more and more people joined the crowd, whispers and mutterings could be heard amidst them as they watched Mike and the crazed robber face off:

"Is that Damian White...?"

"You mean the convict who escaped from Tallgate Prison...?!"

"How did he break out of there?!"

"Who's the kid trying to catch him?"

"Isn't he the one who disappeared two years ago...?"

Mike ignored the sideline commentary as he locked eyes with the criminal named Damian, who glared back at him with a fury not unlike what Mike had seen before. The man's disturbed trembling appeared to have ceased, but another kind of madness seemed to have taken control of him as he too activated his duel disk.

"Alright!" he finally accepted Mike's challenge, "I doubt you'd be able to defeat me, anyway!"

"Let's find out, then!" Mike countered as he activated his own duel disk,

And with that, they both drew five cards as they finally cried out, "LET'S DUEL!"


Oof, do I love cliffhangers! ... well, I mean, sometimes. Some cliffhangers are maddening. Hope you didn't find this one as such.

Obviously, the action returns next chapter, along with a fun little dip into another certain character's mind and life. Can you guess which one? I think I hinted heavily enough at who it'll be in this chapter, so...

Anyways, I'll see y'all next chapter, and as always, stay awesome everyone.


REVISED: 6/12/2019