A/N: This isn't that (I could have done a lot worse) but it is! So sorry for the long wait :D
Title: My Silent Hell
Summary: "As of now…this will be the last time you will ever know
Warnings: Torture, blood. Avoid if this is not your cup of tea!
Genre: Horror/ Suspense
Rating: M
Pairing: casteshipping
My Silent Hell
Drip…drip, drip….drip….drip….
That incessant noise slowly brought Atem into consciousness; the world seemed to be spinning uncontrollably as he forced his eyes open to near slits. His body felt cold and numb and he could taste a bitter metallic in his extremely arid mouth.
Just where the hell was he?
Atem tried to move his head but everything seemed to move sickeningly faster at that attempt to move. He quickly stopped as a soft groan escaped his lips. If only he could move his body…he could figure out where he was…but he felt so sick. He couldn't remember what happen to him….and his surroundings weren't helping much either. All he could tell was that he was in the interior of some long since deserted house; most of it was obscured by shadows. The only light came from what Atem assumed was the entryway, the pale moonlight illuminated most of his body.
Just what did happen?
A movement to his left suddenly caught Atem's attention and he tried to focus his vision on it. What—or rather, who—he saw made his blood run cold.
Bakura.
Immediately, everything came back to Atem; he remembered that day in the city, the screams of his people, the confusion, and…the fight with the thief. He must have brought him here after managing to subdue Atem. And now he was lying on the ground with the insane thief looming over him and thanks to his state, the pharaoh was completely helpless.
Atem tried to move; to back away from the man standing over him but his body wouldn't cooperate and it only caused him intense pain with every failed attempt. What was even worse was that his every attempt only yielded a slight movement of his hands and fingers; it was nowhere near sufficient to what Atem needed. Damn….
And all the while Bakura watched, his tanned face hidden by the shadows. Not that it mattered; Atem knew he was staring at him. Ra damnit! If only his body would just move!
The pharaoh was abruptly torn from his thoughts when the thief suddenly knelt beside him, his head tilted slightly as he watch Atem gasp for breath from another futile attempt to move. At this angle, Atem could see the demented smirk and the crazed gleam in his eyes. Atem's breathing began to escalate slightly, his body tensed as he noticed something on the tomb robber's robes and hands. A small gasp broke from his lips at the frightening slight and he felt himself get colder. Surely that wasn't….
Bakura followed Atem's line of vision until his smirk widen once he had spotted it. "Yes, it's yours," he said in a rough voice, speaking for the first time since Atem noticed him.
Raising his right hand up in the light for his captive to see, Bakura nearly purred at the frighten look in the king's eyes as he stared at it: blood—Atem's blood—gleamed in the pale moonlight. Splatters of blood also decorated the thief's robe and thighs, some dried and others…looked like they were recently made….
Atem forced himself to look down at himself and exhaled harshly from the horrid sight. His body was covered in cuts, blood leaking out from them and onto the ground under him. It was a wonder that he even woke up at all.
And Bakura watched all of this; he enjoyed the horror-struck expression that looked so lovely on the earthy god's face. He wanted the fear—needed it. Ever since he had learned of the real reason of his village's annihilation, the pharaoh had plagued his thoughts, his very being. He wanted his revenge and overtime that burning desire turned into something else. He couldn't say what had caught his attention to it but he did realize his hatred had turned into avid attraction of the worst kind. No longer did he want to just kill him…no….he was going to make him suffer.
And he fully intended to enjoy every second of it.
Atem watch in panic and disgust as Bakura raised his hand to his mouth and licked his blood in a lazy manner. "Do you know where you are?" he asked suddenly.
Bakura smirked when all Atem could manage was a ragged gasp. "This," he said, waving a hand at their surroundings and leaning closer to the pharaoh, "is the remains of what used to be a very lively village. A very small village." He moved his hand across the king's battered body, fingers passing over the cuts on his skin. "A village of 100 people…."
Realization immediately dawned on the king but he wasn't ready to believe it. He couldn't be here…he couldn't…
He could do nothing but watch as Bakura slowly pulled out a blade, already stained with droplets of his blood, and pressed it against the his stomach. Atem tried to keep his breathing under control but he couldn't stop his heart from quickening; from the sweat that began to form on the palms of his hands that couldn't move, couldn't stop the blade from cutting into his robes, into his skin, and the thin line of blood that followed the cut.
The thief fixed a crazed look at the panting man beneath him as he spoke once again as if he hadn't stopped, "Did you know what happened to 99 of this village's people? They were slaughter; their screams and blood filled this place so that they could be sacrificed." As soon as those words left his mouth spirits suddenly materialized from nowhere, hovering and gliding around the darken rooms. The tomb robber didn't even seem to notice them; he was watching the king try to move again. "This is my revenge for them. All 99 of the men, women, and children pf Kul Elna who were taken for your so called righteous items!"
At that, some of the spirits began to drift towards them, forming thierselves around Atem and somehow holding him in place. Atem tried to free himself but the pain increased tenfold leaving him gasping and his head spinning. "Bakura," he managed to gasp out. Said man ignored him, sitting back to retrieve something the pharoah couldn't see. But that didn't deter him from trying again, "Ake-!"
Bakura immediately seized the pharoah's mouth in a bruising grip, his face mere inches from the king's own. "Don't," he hissed menacingly, "you dare call me that! Just give up already, there is no where to run and no where to hide...your screams won't even be heard, and trust me, I plan on making you scream." He released his hold on Atem before kissing him on hard, running his tongue over those lips that were covered from the smeared blood from the thief's hand. The man smirked as the pharaoh laid there gasping; he looked so fragile...but in the end all humans do...
Atem felt his strengh suddenly leave him; it was becoming difficult to keep his eyes open and his body was becoming dangerously cold. He tried to fight it, he didn't want to give in but it was futile.
The last thing the kind saw was Bakura's face, most of it hidden in shadow from the light behind him yet he could see the mad glow in the eye that was visible to him then he was lost to the darkness.
A/N: How many of you honestly saw that coming?
