Footsteps echoed through the halls outside of Mahaad's cell. Each deliberate step became louder and came slower than the last. Although, maybe that was just the priest's mind already dreading what was to come. It had to be Bakura trying to frighten him, trying to get a reaction out of him. The priest mentally chided himself for becoming worried. He knew what was going to happen; there was no sense being anxious. He had to keep from giving the thief any more pleasure for his wicked ways. Maybe there was a chance he would hurt him less if it stopped being fun.
The steps sluggishly grew to a crescendo outside of the door and just out of the priest's sight, stopping with a final click. Each pump of the priest's heart sent a deafeningly loud rush of blood through his ears. Then, nothing.
A drop of cold sweat roll down Mahaad's face. He trembled and felt the beginnings of another attack coming on. Why was this happening to him? It was the thief, and he was going to come hurt him, no doubt about it, but why couldn't he control himself? His stomach churned painfully in fear of torment to come.
It was worse. It was so much worse than anything he could physically do to him. Bakura had such a huge impact on his sanity. The thief didn't even have to do anything to the priest to make him feel like he was weak. Mahaad's sole sanctuary from the thief's torture. Gone.
"Come on already," the priest managed to say, though he quaked inwardly. "Just get it over with Bakura."
"Where's the fun in that?" asked the grinning thief, as he slid into the room, tossing a knife back and forth. "You know I like to come on slowly... Oh no, what's the matter? Are you cold? You're shaking. Maybe I can get something to warm you up?"
Mahaad fought the fright growing inside of him, but his face revealed pure terror.
"Maybe another time then. That's okay. I had something else planned for us anyhow." His ceaseless arrogant smirk did nothing to help the priest's confidence.
"Don't you want to know?" He paused and waited for the response that wouldn't come. He sighed and tutted. "Well I'll tell you anyways."
The thief twirled the knife he was holding around for a few moments, dangerously close to the priest's face. "I'm going to let you go."
Mahaad blinked a few times. "You... You're what?"
"Exactly as I said," the thief said as if he were talking to an especially dull-witted child. "I'm letting you go. What? Don't you believe me? Here."
Bakura pulled a key out of his shirt and unlocked the manacles restraining Mahaad.
Mahaad fell down to his knees when released and stared confusedly at the thief. There had to be some trick. There's no way he would just let him go like this.
"As you might have guessed though, there is one provision for me letting you go."
Of course there was.
"You have to beat me in a fight. Fair enough, don't you think? If you can beat me in a fight, then I have no right to keep you locked up here. If you lose though, it proves how weak you are and that you deserve everything that I do to you." He smiled twistedly.
Fair? Bakura had to be playing with him. He was beaten up and tortured for weeks, and this was fair?
"Bakura, you can't be serious."
"Oh I'm completely serious."
The priest grunted and forced himself to stand up. He couldn't compete with the thief. He knew it. Not physically. Not like this. He didn't even have any weapons he could use against Bakura's knife. And his connection to the flow of magic around him was severed by the drink Bakura had been forcing him to take.
His shoulder slumped. It was very much like Bakura to play this cruel trick. Making him think he had a chance at getting away, then snatching that hope up at the last second.
"Whenever you're ready magician, come at me. You know what, I'm generous. I'll give you the first shot." His smirk grew.
Mahaad took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Getting worried now would only make things worse for him. He had to focus and fight.
It wasn't working. His mind refused to stop imagining all the horrible scenarios that could happen after he lost. No reason to drag his mental torment out. Might as well just get it over with.
He took up a half-hearted battle stance, his face painting a picture of dejection.
The thief cackled. "Your expression makes me laugh magician. You're really going to try to come at me like that? You look like you're going to fall over and start crying any minute."
Mahaad knew Bakura was goading him, trying to get a reaction. He didn't give him the satisfaction of a response; he just stared at the thief, trying to steel his nerves.
"Oh magician, you always were a funny one. Now come on, stop screwing around and fight me already."
The priest swallowed, then made a jump at Bakura. He swung his fist at the thief's face, but pulled back at the last second to try to fake him out. The thief stood at the same spot, unmoving, and started to lose his smile.
"Come on you pathetic excuse for a priest I gave you a command, now, fight me!"
Mahaad struggled to keep his limbs from shaking as he was assaulted by all the cuts on his body reopening from his sudden movements. He blinked, groaned, and tried to swing at the thief for real this time.
Bakura simply leaned backwards to avoid the punch as he said, "You're not serious. Come on magician," He sneered at him.
Mahaad was starting to get angry against his best efforts. He wanted to knock that cockiness out of the thief so badly. It would only make the thief happier though if he started to lose control. If only he could think straight. The pain was only getting worse each time he moved.
He made another move at the thief, but Bakura sliced the top of his hand with his knife as he punched at him. Mahaad withdrew in ever increasing agony, crimson lining his hand. He tried again but was met with another flash of the blade, and another cut for his trouble.
"Tch. I'm not even trying."
Damn! That thief was quick! And though Mahaad was never the quickest of physical fighters, he felt more sluggish than he ever had before. Mahaad shook his hand a few times, sending droplets of blood flying.
"This fight's going to be boring and over far too quickly if you can't do any better than that," he snarled.
The priest hesitantly moved forward for a moment, then swept his leg at thief's foot to try to trip him. Bakura nimbly jumped forward and launched his foot brutally into Mahaad's already aching stomach, driving the breath out of him.
Mahaad dropped to a knee, gasping for breath, clutching at his stomach. He didn't even notice the thief walk toward him in his desperation to fill his burning lungs with air.
"Honestly Mahaad I expected more out of you. I suppose they just let anyone become a priest, eh?" he said as he forcefully smashed his knee into Mahaad's nose.
The priest fell over on his side, stunned and overwhelmed by the flood of pain all over his body.
Bakura kicked him repeatedly as he was down on the floor, punctuating each word with another vicious kick; "I. Didn't. Tell. You. To. Stop. Fighting. You. Pathetic. Weakling. Get up." The poor magician's sobs were met with no pity from the merciless thief, as he harshly struck him again and again.
The thief raised his foot and held it a few inches above the priest's bleeding face as he watched him squirm. "You priests all disgust me. Practically worshiping your Pharaoh no matter what disgusting atrocities they've committed. And here you are using people weaker than you to make yourself stronger." He pulled his robe apart revealing the Millennium Ring he wore around his neck.
"Except you made a mistake, you tried to go after the big fish, and look what happened. Well, you don't get this power any more." He brought his sandal down onto the priest's face. Mahaad let out a muffled cry as the sole ground downwards.
After a moment of disorientation, Mahaad managed to roll onto his side and sweep his leg around, knocking the leg out from under the thief in a burst of fear, and tried to crawl away as Bakura fell onto the ground as well. This only served to infuriate the thief; He stood up with hatred burning in his eyes and knocked Mahaad onto his back.
"You pathetic priest," he said as he stepped on his face again. "Killing you now would be so easy." He bent down and grabbed Mahaad's throat, hoisting him up with a powerful grip. Bakura brought his knee up hard into his groin bringing forth a loud groan, and slammed him back against the wall.
Mahaad didn't feel fear, he succumbed the darkness growing in his vision and in his oxygen-starved mind without a thought, thankful for the relief from his torment. Everything faded until the look of fury staring him in the eyes disappeared at last.