A/n: Sorry that this chapter is a little late. Hopefully it was worth the wait. (Hey, that rhymed...)

Thanks to: EuphrasieTheOwl, xXI. Hate. TwilightXx, VampirePrinssess, mudkiprox, xBrokendollx, sandydragon, ChocolateLizz, and Spottedpaw13 for reviewing!

When Marik woke up, he couldn't see anything except blackness. He almost panicked, but forced himself to stay calm. Taking in a few deep breaths, he figured out that he had been blindfolded. He attempted to reach up and take it off, but his hands had been tied behind his back, rendering them immobile. That was just great.

With some difficulty, he managed to push himself into a sitting position. Bad idea. The motion sent pain screaming through his skull and shooting up his spine.

Wait...why did his back hurt? He figured it was probably from where he had fallen down the night before. He must have landed harder than he thought. Now...where exactly was he?

With a jolt, he remembered everything that had happened the day before, right up until he had been knocked unconscious.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no!" There could be only one place where he'd be tied up and blindfolded: Bakura Touzoku's hideout.

"I've gotta get out of here," Marik thought. "I've gotta, I've gotta, I've-"

A sinister laugh broke him away from his thoughts. Marik's blood froze. He swore his heart stopped.

"Oh, God, no," he thought.

"Finally awake, are we?" the same silky, chilling voice from the night before spoke. "It's about time." The voice was growing louder, accompanying the footsteps that told Marik that the outlaw was coming closer. "It's almost midday." The voice was practically on top of the boy now."

Marik desperately tried to free his hands without the outlaw noticing. Something shifted beneath him and he felt a presence uncomfortably close to him. He figured he was probably on a bed or mattress of some sort and Bakura had just sat down on it.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you. I tied those knots myself."

Marik felt disgusted by the way the outlaw sounded so smug, so full fo himself. He pulled at the ropes again, trying to loosen them. He froze as something cold, metal, and very, very sharp was pressed to his throat.

"I said knock it off," the demonic man growled.

Marik swallowed a frightened whimper.

"Never let them know you're afraid," he thought. He didn't know where he had heard this, but it didn't exactly help calm him. So what if he showed he was scared? He was going to be killed anyway. Why not give this man the satisfaction of having a frightened victim?

Marik sat stock-still for a few moments, waiting for Bakura to kill him. Much to his surprise, the knife was removed from his throat.

"Good boy. You learn fast," the outlaw purred.

"So it's 'boy' now, not 'girl'?" Marik could hardly believe the cocky comeback that tumbled out of his mouth. Why had he said something that stupid? Bakura laughed.

"No, no. I learned last night that you are definitely a boy. Not a man, per se, but a boy nonetheless."

Marik forgot how to breathe. What was this man talking about? Could he - no. Marik refused to believe that...that had happened to him. He felt something touch his hair, and he jerked away from it.

"Don't touch me," he muttered. Bakura laughed, placing his hand on Marik's hair once again.

"You were saying something very different just last night," he replied.

"What are you talking about?" Marik demanded, flinching when he felt Bakura's cold hand stroking his hair. He received only a deep chuckle in reply. Marik's fears were confirmed with that sound. His stomach heaved; he almost thought he was going to be sick. He pulled desperately at the bonds once again. "Let me out of here!" he cried.

"Now why would I do that?" Marik shivered when he felt the outlaw's hot breath on his ear. "Think of all the...fun we could have." Marik yelped when he felt something warm and wet run along his tanned earlobe.

"G-get away from me," he said, trying not to make it sound like he was pleading. He wasn't sure what frightened him more; what was happening to him, or the fact that he was completely at his captor's mercy.

"I would rather not. Why do you sound so frightened? I won't kill you...as long as you're useful to me."

"I would rather die!" Marik yelled. He couldn't stand it; this man - this demon had violated and had pretty much just told him that he would do it again. There was nothing that Marik could do, except take it. And Marik Ishtar was not one to take things lightly. He hated this feeling of utter hopelessness, being unable to do anything.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening for quite some time, my dear. Here - how's this?" Marik felt a tug on the blindfold still covering his eyes and the cloth fluttered away from his face, allowing him to finally see where he was. What welcomed him was not the most cheerful sight.

He was in a small, one-room shack. A very dirty one-room shack. In one corner there was a table, heaped with money, jewelry, and all sorts of valuable things. There was a door right next to the table, with a thick piece of wood holding it closed. Marik was sitting on an old bed that had been pushed up against a wall. Dim sunlight was filtering in from a window above his head. Marik wanted to cry.

"Let me out of here," he begged.

"I am aware that my home isn't quite as fancy as some of the places you've probably been, but I think you'll grow used to it eventually."

With a smirk and a wicked glint in his eye, Bakura leaned forward and forced his lips roughly against Marik's. The tanned boy's eyes grew wide. He tried to scream, but his cries were smothered by the outlaw's mouth practically devouring his own. He scrambled backwards, trying to escape, but before long his back hit the wall and the criminal was practically on top of him.

As a desperate last resort, Marik jerked his face away, finally succeeding in breaking contact. He gasped and spit frantically, trying to rid his mouth of the foreign taste.

"Oh, God," he thought. "He just - he...please tell me that didn't just happen!"

He glanced back up at the outlaw. Bakura was wearing an expression of self-satisfaction, slowly running his tongue over his lips. It was all too much for Marik.

"You sick bastard!" he screamed. "Let me out of here! I refuse to be your whore!" Oh, God...if anyone had seen that...Marik didn't even want to think about it. It was a crime for two men to show affection towards one another, not to mention a sin. Of course, the outlaw was just taking advantage of Marik, who did not want anything to do with any of this, but it was still against the law. This criminal probably didn't care about that, but Marik had his family to think about. If Marik was ever found out and captured, his sister and father would be very much out of luck.

With a jolt, Marik realized Bakura's plan. He had done this so that if Marik was ever to escape, he wouldn't be able to go to the sheriff without getting himself in trouble. Marik was trapped. Utterly, hopelessly, trapped.

The outlaw smirked at him. Marik wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk right off of his face.

"I'd be more careful with my words if I were you, boy," Bakura said. "You can't get out of here unless I release you, and I can assure you, I have absolutely no intention of doing that. You'd better get used to this place, and to me, because you're going to be here for quite some time."

With that, the outlaw stood, grabbed a gun from under the bed, and left the small shack, sealing the door from the outside. Marik sat for a few minutes until he was certain that the outlaw would not be coming back for a while.

Now that he was completely alone in his prison, Marik curled up into a ball and cried. He cried for his father and sister, for the village that he had been powerless to protect from this monster that now held him prisoner, and, most of all, he cried for himself and his hopelessness.

"I'm never going to get out of here..."

I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. I did my best to make it a somewhat decent chapter.

R&R, please!