Hi, hi! It's been over a year! I basically stopped writing this story bc a certain person who wrote something nasty on every damn chapter and bullied me into quitting the story. Eh Oh well! I'm trying to start this again because I truly enjoyed this silly, yet philosophical story. So please enjoy at new chapter! See you soon
"Are you sure you should be chaining him up like that!" Kisara cried.
Bakura ignored her, looping the heavy chains around the man.
"You're also very good with chains too? Not just rope huh?" Malik tiredly, chuckled.
He tightened the chains to shut him up.
"Bakura! Listen to me! Whatever happened in that mansion couldn't have been-"
"He's too much of a danger. A liability." He mumbled. He didn't feel like arguing. He didn't feel like he needed justification.
"You wanted him! You went to Hermania for him! You forced him to come! You you-"
Malik threw his head back, "Kisara."
She looked him in the eyes.
"I'm dangerous and I have an agenda of my own. I am a risk."
"So what, you're a human being!"
He closed his eyes, "No, I am not."
She took a breath. Was he insane? Was everyone insane!
"You're confused. I smell it."
"What?" She glanced at him again.
"Take a seat and I'll explain."
She stared at him then sat on the cold floor beside him.
"Bakura?" His mother's voice came from upstairs.
"Yes?"
"If Malik needs the basement that's fine but I'll need locks put on my door then."
He stood up, glancing at the locks to see if they looked loose. Satisfied, he went upstairs.
"Thank gods, he left. Let's have storytime."
Kisara nodded, "Yea. Tell me everything you can."
He looked at the ceiling in thought, "I guess I'll tell you who I am. I am technically Virgil, an ancient poet. Or better yet his reincarnation."
She nodded, showing she was listening.
"I was a guide. My original self guided one man through hell and purgatory."
"What is purgatory?"
"A place of cleansing before 'heaven'. Do you believe in heaven?"
"Not exactly. I believe in a spiritual plain where all souls reside."
"Which is true in my beliefs too. Purgatory is only true to a certain branch of an ancient religion.
Kisara scratched her head, "Then is that branch true? If you were in purgatory then-"
"No. Everyone's afterlife is completely dependent on them and their destiny. The man, whom I guided, destiny was to experience that afterlife. He was not dead yet he needed to see death."
"Malik, you were dead right?"
"I was. I knew hell. I was cast there to help fulfill his destiny."
She nodded, "Who was this man?"
"Dante Alighieri. A poet who was known as a father of his language. An excellent man at his profession."
"I see. But you are human now."
"I look that way but there is something...inside me."
She blinked and looked him up and down, "Like a baby?"
He wriggled in the chains, "I'll fucking kill you!"
"I'm sorry."
They heard the door creak open from the basement staircase. Bakura slowly came to the middle of the stairs, holding a knife. Kisara immediately grabbed onto Malik.
"I'm swear he's not hurting me! We were joking around, Mr. Journalist! Right, Malik!"
The blonde hissed at Bakura baring fangs. Kisara jerked his head in the opposite direction and nervously chuckled. Bakura growled, throwing the knife. It cut through Malik's chair leg, making them fall over. They instantly heard the door slam.
"Ow!" Kisara whined. She protected herself with her arms
"Hn." He grunted. His head hitting the floor. She stood up, bringing him with her, "Sorry, Malik." She kicked over a stray box and used it as a makeshift leg.
"You okay?" He asked.
"Yea, 'course I am. You know I'm a tough ass motherfucker."
He grinned.
"Now what's in you?"
"A god per say. A demon god. I hold half of him within me. I made a deal to contain half it while a certain bloodline holds the rest."
"Are you apart of the demon?"
"No. I'm just the container. I'm like Pandora's box, I'm not evil per say, yet inside I hold the world's greatest darkness. Well, half anyway."
"And the other half is with...?"
Malik gave her a slow, creepy smirked. He looked in the other direction. Kisara turned her head to see what he was looking at.
"Bakura's mom..." She marveled at the picture of the woman with her son.
"Not exactly. She's married into the bloodline. Her soul couldn't withstand the demon."
"So then Bakura's father?"
"Correct."
Kisara scratched her head, "Where he at then?"
"Dead." She looked at him to continue, "His soul however, which contains the demon, lives in another body."
The girl was confused.
"People just don't change over night, Kisara."
She gasped, "Is that why-" That explained why Bakura's mother completely changed at night.
"More than one soul can inhabit a body."
"Wow! Like a built in mom and dad! Why doesn't Bakura call his dad Dad!"
"He doesn't know. And doesn't need to."
Her expression dropped, "He...doesn't know? Then why would you tell me?"
Malik looked at her, "You wanted to know right?"
"I-I..."
"Oh hush child. I'm not that malignant. His mother is going to tell him and he's going to flip his shit. And come down here, blame me, try and kill me, you step in and pull him off, his mother screams. And a fight happens. I say something that makes you stop and boom. Scene over. But I don't know what I'll say. Oh well."
She stared at him, "That's ridiculous-"
"MALIK! YOU FILTHY DEVIL HOARDER!"
Kisara blinked.
"Told you. Let me figure out what I'm going to say."
Bakura jumped down the stairs.
"Mr. Journalist! Calm down! "He kicked Malik in the chest, sending him on his back. Kisara pulled him away, "Chill!" She screamed at him.
He turned on her, delivering a blow to the gut. She stumbled back then punched him square in the face, "You still punch like a punk ass bitch!" She kneed him in the stomach, slamming her fists into his back.
"AH! STOP PLEASE!" Bakura's mother cried.
She glanced at her. Bakura growled, kicking her in the face. Kisara grabbed her nose. So he wanted a fight? He was going to get one. She held her fists close to her in a fighting stance.
"Don't involve yourself in things you know nothing about." He growled.
"I know enough."
He shook his head then punched her in the face. She ducked then pushed him off his feet. He drop kicked her on the floor too. She recovered quickly, jumping on him. She punched him in face continously. He wrapped his hands around her neck.
"STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!" His mother screamed, sobbing on her knees.
Kisara gasped for air, still fighting hard. Bakura grunted in pain, feeling his face swell and bruise.
"Thousands of years of this legacy yet this is the most problematic revealing ever." Malik voiced.
The fighting pair never realized he was standing there. He effortlessly lifted Kisara by her collar, flinging her onto the bed. Then pulling Bakura off the floor, throwing him on the bed too, "I hate fighting. It excites the demon in me." They stared at his form.
"Your eyes are...black" The side of his face had markings and his eyes had a strange symbol in them.
"Oh, really?" He placed his hands on his face, running his hands towards his hair, "Better now? I can't be seen in that form. It's so homily. Don't drive me to that state again or very bad things will happen. And they'll be more than appearance problems."
"Uh,Malik..."
" I'm tired so if you wouldn't mind. Get OUT." He said with a smile.
They left, quickly.
"Why." Bakura groaned, head in hands.
His mother sadly looked at him, "Drink your tea. Both of you." She sounded hoarse. Probably hadn't screamed that loud in years.
Kisara nodded. She sipped her tea and burnt her tongue immediately. Bakura's mom sat up and poured milk in her cup, "Try that." She did.
"Not bad."
Bakura slumped in the couch, "Whyyyy!"
"Well, baby. It's a legacy. It's inevitable."
"He caused this."
Momma Touzoku looked at the window. Sundown. She ran her fingers through her hair, brushing the curls out. Standing, grabbing glasses off the mantle piece. Then wiping the makeup from her face.
"Uh, Ms. Touzoku?"
"Oh. Um, Bakura, hun. Your father is going to talk to you now." She said in her soft voice, closing her eyes.
"Great. Fucking great."
Her body jerked, "Quit your bitching all the fucking time!"
"Not now...dad."
He rolled his eyes, "Such a fucking priss. What can't handle the truth! It's been like this for centuries!"
"Why did he curse our family!"
"Our family cursed him!"
Bakura shut up.
"Our ancestor contracted the demon. Using it's power for destruction. He's been helping this family wipe it's sins away before you were even thought to exist. You can't comprehend the danger this world would face if he hadn't."
"What if it gets out?"
"It won't." He scoffed, "As long as you receive Zorc."
"Me?"
"'Me?' yes you, you idiot. I'm not talking to the girl." He mocked him, "Your mother can't keep holding it's spirit. I'm already insane from been attached to it for so long. She'll die."
"Mum will die?"
"Did I not just fucking say that? Yea, she will. So pull your head out your ass and receive Zorc."
Bakura held his head in his hands, "...how?"
"Malik~"
"I'm tired." The blonde groaned, pillow over his face.
Mr. Touzoku sat on the bed, "C'mon Mal. You owe me one."
"Like hell I do."
"You do, I helped you remember in your last life and you were old and wrinkly."
Malik scowled, "Yes." Though he'd never like to admit he was old.
"And I'd come read to your senile ass as a kid."
"I wasn't senile."
"You were fucking bonkers. And I used to give you medicine."
The man sighed, "The point?"
"The point is do this for me! I'd do it for you."
Malik threw his pillow at him, "No."
"Selfish prick!" He laughed.
"You are the selfish prick. And that cheesy line was so played out." He smirked.
"Just say you'll do it. I will give you anything you want, you old fart."
The man thought about it, "Fine, I want an apology from your son."
"Oh hell..."
"Yup, you do that and I'll transfer the demon."
"Bakura~"
He lazily opened his eyes to see boobs, "Mom?"
"No, it's dad."
"Dad, get your cleavage out my face!"
He backed up some, "You'd think I'd be used to these things by now. Well, I talked to Malik."
"And?"
"He kinda sort of wants an apology."
Bakura glared at his father, "No."
"You kind of owe him one."
"I don't apologize. To anyone."
"You stole him from Hermania, you thief!"
"Send him back, he's pissing me off."
His father growled, "Pull the silver spoon out your mouth. You're so spoiled, I blame your mother."
"Don't you dare say shit when you're just using her as a vessel. You force her to become something she hates at night."
"I guess you could say we're both hypocrites."
The man rolled over to meet his father's eyes, "What are you talking about."
"You know what I am talking about. Most boys don't whore themselves out on a whim. Why do you think you and Malik had that arrangement?"
"He needed money."
"Truth be told he did. But he went to work at the mines and the bank. Seems like enough money for gas to get the fuck out of this town, right? So why did he stay?"
"Shut up."
"Most prostitutes sleep with more than one person. So why would he be yours personally if he needed money so bad. Maybe it wasn't for money, maybe it was for some other reason."
"I mean it, Shut Up!"
"Maybe he was only staying here long enough to see if someone would actually care if he left or possibly leave with him. Looks like he waited in vain."
Bakura stood up and smashed a vase. He stormed out the house in a rush. He was going to scream. He took a deep breath, sitting beside his house. He breathed slowly.
How many times would someone guilt trip him over that. He prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed yet none would forgive or forget. He was sorry. He'd never admit it but he was sorry. He only wanted for Malik to stay.
But he wouldn't. He wanted a new life. Bakura had to help Ryou take care of their mum. He couldn't pack up and leave everything like Malik did. And it got to the point where Malik had about four jobs and didn't have time for Bakura. All he wanted was money. So the only way he could think of having him close to him is paying him to do so.
He wasn't trying to use Malik. Yet the frustration got to him and he became distant and cold.
"Get from my window. Your ass is covered up my fresh air."
Bakura snapped out of his thoughts, moving over from the window. The boy before was now a man and that man was here. He was back and Bakura couldn't pin point how it made him feel.
"Y'know, I've realized something? The older I get, the less I understand. They say age brings wisdom, age brings a lot of things wrinkles, slower digestion, grey hair, dementia. Yet not wisdom. People are born wise. They simply choose not to use their wisdom until they are old and can't do anything anymore. A waste but that's human nature for you."
"…why are you saying this?"
"I want to tell you to be wise now or waste it in the future."
"But Why?
"I feel like it, you bum."
Bakura stood up, "...Thanks." He stated, leaving to the field of crosses that lay before him. He needed to be in silence.
"Captain Wheeler. We are slowly approaching the ruins of Devonshire."
"Good," He said, sitting at the back of the tank. It was best to apprehend them soon before they went to other places telling of their stay in Hermania.
"Captain Wheeler?"
"Yes."
"We are picking up an increase in radiation. It's not dangerous but not exactly healthy."
"I understand. How long ago was it?"
"It wasn't from Wrath. It was a few years ago."
He blinked, "That shouldn't be possible."
"That is what the detector states."
"..." He looked at the monitor. That shouldn't have been possible.
Walking towards the front of the house, Bakura saw Kisara on the steps lying down.
"Hey."
"Yea." She said with monotone.
"You okay?"
"Yea. I kinda want to get back on the road again for our big adventure."
He grunted, "I'm sure. Weren't you complaining about too much work in Hermania?"
"Yea. You don't think about other things when you work though. You're too busy."
"...You want something to do?"
"Kinda. Beats sitting here staring at crosses for fuck's sake."
"Want to write in the journal?"
She gasped in shocked, "You want me to write in the journal!"
"Sure. You are my very untrusted assistant."
"Oh Mr. Journalist! You've made me the happiest girl in the world!"
They looked at each other and laughed. He pushed her out the way, "Like hell you're touching my journal, bitch."
"Ha! You wish I'd grace your journal with my ideas and point of view!"
"You are illiterate how are you going to do shit!"
"Uhhh. I can read."
"Really?"
She grinned, "Yea, your forehead reads Punk ass bitch." She cackled.
Bakura shook his head, "Whatever. Don't get bored and try to shoot yourself."
She stuck her tongue out at him, "No promises."
He rolled his eyes, "Shot gun is in the back seat." He walked into the house, "Pops! Dad! DAD!"
"Gods, what!" His father walked in with a basket of clothes. He supposed he had always done laundry. No wonder that was always done right when he knew his mother couldn't even wash dishes properly.
"Lemme help you with that."
He scoffed, "I've been doing it by myself since you were in diapers, bug off."
"Yea, that's great…so I…want to receive the demon."
"Why?"
"I don't want Mum to die."
"Oh so you pulled your head out your ass? Thank gods, I thought you'd suffocate."
"I see where I get my vulgarity."
His father smirked, "You better sew it up, can't have a gaping hole. Wild animals might think it's a cave or something."
"Dad."
"Sorry. I like insults."
"It's a family thing."
"Girl, Imma sex you up!" Kisara sung.
Malik scowled, "Does she have to be here for this? Honestly, I'm tired of nonsense."
"Runt, shut up." Bakura growled.
She mouthed the words to the song she suddenly recalled. Malik rolled his eyes, "Shirt off. Don't feel self conscience because you're in a woman's body. Bakura, feel very self conscience because you don't exercise much."
The white haired man glared at him, "Get it over with."
The blonde medium took a large bowl and a knife, "Wrist." He stated.
"Not too deep, old man."
"Call me Old Man again and I'll take your entire hand off." He stated, grabbing his wrist then opening his hand. He pricked every finger, "What should be the next sign of transition?"
"A uh, uh, crescent moon or something. You told me about it last life."
"I will do a triple moon symbol." He said.
"Fine by me."
Malik took the knife, deeper into the palm of his hand, creating a circle then beside it putting two C shaped figures.
"There. Now lay your hand flat on his back."
He did so.
"Take it off."
He slowly brought his hand away. Bakura took a deep breath.
"Now this part is going to hurt the both of you." He put his palms together, making a dark mist from his palms, "I'm ripping out the demon and forcing him into Bakura's body."
Kisara stared, "Mr. Journalist, a demon is going to penetrate your body, should this go in the journal."
"I know you meant that in a sexual way and I hope you burn in hell."
"Shut up so I can concentrate. Everyone stay still." He put his hand on the chest of the poor woman's body. Hands slowly fading into flesh, "Tell me when I get the soul. I don't want to wander aimlessly."
"Okay." He groaned, loudly.
"Maybe give your wife should take control so I don't grab her soul."
"N-no! This pain is- ah! too great. I don't w-want her to feel this." He winced in pain.
Malik nodded, feeling around slowly.
"That's some crazy voodoo witch Mama shit right there."
"Bakura I told you to shut her up."
He threw his shirt at her face. She pulled it off her face and held it near her mouth. The stupid teen threw out her tongue in a licking motion.
"Don't you fucking dare!"
She smirked, inching it closer.
"Kisara!" He yelled, boiling.
"STOP." Came an extremely deep unsettling voice, shattering the windows and glass objects. Bakura quickly turned on the lamp. Bakura turned around to come face to face with a beast. His heart stopped in shock. The beast picked him up by the front of his shirt up to the ceiling. Bakura looked down to see the beast's gigantic hand lodged in his mother's chest. Malik?
He ripped the demonic soul out of his mother, leaving her body limp. The soul itself was dark and emitted a purple aura. It wriggled and tried to find it's other half. Bakura stared at it. It was not small in the slightest.
The beast holding him threw his hand onto his chest with the soul. It ate away at his chest. Like acid. As if someone was ripping away at his flesh.
He felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. He cried out. No use. Everything slowly faded into dark. He loved that darkness more than he ever had before.
"Oh Kisara have some more pancakes!" Ms. Touzoku smiled, putting another stack on the table.
"Thanks Ms. T!" She pulled more onto her plate.
"You've been such a help these few days. And a joy to have."
The girl grinned, "Don't hear that too often."
"I'm serious. My husband's soul has been depressed and he refuses to use my body at all." She slowly felt her chest.
"Does...Does it hurt?"
"Very much. But much more knowing my husband is heartbroken."
Kisara blinked, "You love him very much."
"My sunshine." She smiled.
"Goals."
The beautiful woman picked up a tray of food. Kisara stopped her, "Hey, I'll get it. Don't push yourself."
"Thank you child."
She nodded taking the tray, upstairs. A week ago the demon transfer happened. Bakura now held the demon. And he...changed.
"Malik?" She knocked on the bedroom door. The door cracked slightly.
"Hi, Kisara."
"Good morning. Here's breakfast."
"Did she use sugar this time?"
"Yes. I made sure she didn't use salt."
He smiled. The bags under his eyes showed how much Bakura changed. He turned, "Bakura, sit up...Bakura!" He sighed, leaving the door cracked.
Kisara quietly pushed open the door. She watched as Malik lifted Bakura to sit upwards and how his pale hands immediately went to choke him but could never muster to do it. Malik sadly removed his hands from his neck.
"Look who came to visit you Bakura? It's Kisara."
She slowly smiled, "Hi Bakura."
The man stared at her, indifferently.
"How are you feeling?" She tried.
No response.
Malik grabbed the tray, "Thank you very much." He sat the tray in Bakura's lap.
"No problem. " She turned to leave.
"You are a powerful child."
Kisara slowly looked behind her.
"The demon likes your soul. It's powerful."
She stared at him.
"He wants your soul. It reminds him of Isis, your curse."
Malik blinked, "Curse?"
"Top of the food chain. Prophet. She weaves time. The demon likes it." He looked at him, "We like it."
Malik frowned, "Don't agree with him."
"Who? Myself?"
"You are not the demon, Bakura."
He smirked, "Yes I am. And so are you ancient guide. Bottom of the food chain, medium, lover of death."
"I don't love people are dying!"
"But without the dead and their lost souls, you'd have no power."
Malik flinched, "Kisara, go downstairs."
"What-"
"Bakura and I are going to have a talk." He closed the door.
The room emitted yelling and crazed laughter.
Kisara took a deep breath. Did she sign up for this?
"We're leaving for Jurleichn."
Just yesterday Bakura was being creepy as fuck and he wanted to leave!
"But Bakura-"
"Will not sit in this house growing truly mad. Confinement sends all men to the depths of insanity."
Kisara blinked, "You're off your rocker! He's a monster! A fucking monster!"
"So? That's a mere set back. I'll monitor him."
"You're not getting the point!"
He frowned, not really listening to her, "I think I'm getting a bump on my chin."
"ARE YOU LISTENING!"
"Huh? I already said I'll watch him."
The girl couldn't believe this! Of course she wanted to go on the road but he wasn't ready.
"Ms. Touzoku I'd like for you to come. Being here alone is torture."
She frowned, "I like it, my house is cosy."
Malik nodded, "Mhm. It's not right for you to be here." He said very bluntly, "Bags packed by noon or I'm leaving. Ta-ta!" He strolled upstairs.
What the fuck!
Kisara ran up the stairs, "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND!"
"Quit fucking screaming, brat." Bakura growled.
"…Mr…Journalist?"
"No its fucking Tina."
She covered her mouth in shock.
"You...you…"
He scowled, "Has she become stupider or is it me?"
Malik smiled, "Did you think he'd stay like that?"
"Yes!"
"Aw, I forgot to tell you. It only lasts a bit, dear. Bakura is back to his disgusting self."
"Oh Malik you do care."
"Fuck off." He scoffed, going up the stairs.
"I'm so glad you're back to normal!" She smiled.
He shrugged in response, going into the kitchen.
"Are you happy too Ms. Touzoku!"
She blankly stared at the spot where Bakura stood. She noticed his red eyes, paler skin, and dark circles. The demon was eating through him so quickly, it made her scared. Was that the same child she cradled against her chest? Yes…but no…
They all have their demons
Born in pools of lust and semen
Ha! Creatures of seduction
Not of love
They no introduction
They are Turtledoves!
Damned are they?
Shall they be damned?
"I think I may have this." Isis said.
Ryou shook his head, "Why would birds be Damned? They even mate for life!"
"I have this one!" She snapped.
The angel closed his mouth.
She sighed,
Damned they are
Damned will they be
Damned are those who fall in love
Without the thought of me.
Did I God not give you life
To find each other
To end your strife
Turtledoves Damned are thee
You cursed yourself for eternity
Ryou blinked.
Isis slowly looked at him, "Turtledoves defy common nature and mate with only one partner for life. Their loyalty lasts into every reincarnation. Loving someone so deeply forever…is a curse. A Neverending curse." She stood up straight, composing herself, "I've witnessed it happen to someone dear to me."
The angel sat quietly. Isis was truly full of secrets.