Disclaimer:
 I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!... So I am obviously just a fan who wholeheartedly loves the amazing original show and writes fanfictions (such as this...duh!...and all my other stories that have the said disclaimers on them), for fun, gaining no monetary profit whatsoever....

Cold Fear

The Pharaoh screamed again as another kick was thrown to his chest. There was a sickening crack upon impact. Droplets of blood flew from his mouth soon followed by a gurgling yelp. There was a pause in the attacks, allowing him to fall limp and gasp for the badly needed air.

He yelped again when a rough hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling him to his feet.

"Look at this...." Came a cruel tone amidst the evil chuckles. "Pathetic..." The man raised his free hand and was about to throw another punch when.....

"OMARIUS"

The call had made the man stop his fist in midair. He turned around to see the chief Roman guard standing by the door.

"The Emperor wants to see his slave...." The chief Roman guard started as he neared the one he was addressing. Giving the battered Pharaoh within the torturer's grasp a stoic glance, he continued. "And don't forget to clothe him...." With that he turned around and made his way back towards the door.

The man named Omarius let out a huff as he allowed his gaze to linger on the now empty doorway. He turned to his cohorts, granite eyes bulging with indescribable emotion. "Well??" He asked gruffly as he shoved the battered Pharaoh in their grasps. "You heard what Harod said.... Go do it..." With that he stormed out of the dungeon.

Atem moaned and yelped as the many guards half carried and half dragged him out of the chamber, tightly gripping his battered form to bruising point. He felt himself forced through the doors that led to the outside of his cell. He gazed at the dark corridor he was going through. Bleary balls of light lined the sides, glowing meekly against its stony surroundings. Grime was everywhere. Water drops echoed around him, each drop making him cringe. The sound of metal boots stepping on the stony floor echoed off the walls, adding to the terror this place was built to provide. It was like being in the belly of a rather horrific beast.

It was not long before he felt his carriers stop. It was then that he looked up, finding himself in another one of the many chambers. He gasped and winced when he felt cold shackles clamping on his wrists and ankles. The cold metal cuffs scraped his already bruising wrists and ankles, sending a jolt of pain through his senses. He struggled a bit, earning him a backhand to the face. He closed his eyes from the impact and stayed still, eliciting gruff chuckles from his tormentors.

Hearing the clinking and dragging of metal against stone, he opened his eyes once more. His breath immediately hitched in his throat. Pure terror and helplessness filled him as he watched a guard advancing while holding a metal collar with a heavy looking chain attached to its side. He shuddered and leaned away as far as he could. However, the soldiers who were twice his size did not allow him movement.

The guard grinned maliciously as he grabbed a fistful of Atem's hair while holding out the chained collar in another hand. "This will be your newest companion during your stay here."

Atem closed his eyes upon feeling the cold metal embracing his neck, hairs standing on end upon feeling the heavy cold wash over him. He was shuddering uncontrollably the entire time from the uncontrollable fear storming within him.

The clicking of the lock sounded in his ears. He shifted unconsciously, making the soldiers tighten their grips on him. Pain soon erupted through him as his wounds were squeezed by both the shackles and the soldiers' tight grasps. He struggled again. This time, the guards simply watched, laughing at his pathetic attempts while holding him steady.

He felt something cover his bare waist. He watched as a linen cloth saved him from being completely naked. Feeling painfully defeated and humiliated, he bowed his head, he stopped his struggles, and he hesitantly waited for the second set of horrors to befall him. Physically, he remained unmoving. His state of mind and being, however, was undergoing the exact opposite.

Horrific sensations stormed within him, like a landslide, crushing his once admired confidence, bravery, and pride in an endless heap of fear, terror, and hopelessness . It was a terrible and suffocating sensation that was threatening to drag him down a dark and senseless path.

Dark laughter echoed around the dirty chambers as the soldiers mock admired him. He felt strong nudges, punches, and painful pulls on his hair. Closing his eyes, he bit his lip and stayed still, enduring whatever the soldiers were doing.

Then there was a bright light. The Pharaoh and his tormentors looked up, squinting at the light that came from an open door. A guard stepped out of the light and descended the flight of steps, metal boots echoing with each step taken. He soon reached the last flights, stopping in front of them.

"It's time for the slave to meet his newest masters..." Came the guard's deep voice.

Atem felt a strong pull as he was being led up the flight of stone steps. A sigh escaped his lips as he followed meekly, retaining the held back look of sadness on his face.

The flight of steps he was forced to take soon led him through the light encompassed passageway. Still forced to walk by the guard leading him, he meekly gazed at the surroundings like a little pup that exited the den for the first time.

The building he was in was made of white pozzolan and marble. It was a magnificent place. Tables, statues, plants, and other furniture and ornaments were all over the area, arranged in an elegant fashion. A glimmer of ambivalent emotion passed his eyes as he looked around. The magnificence of the place reminded him of his own palace.

With each tired step he took, a jolt of cold passed through his bare feet like a sharp and frozen dagger impaling warm flesh. The clanging of his shackles echoed through the magnificent hall like rusty old bells. Servants stopped in their activities, watching him being led deeper within the hall. He could hear the mumbling of gossips being shared.

All this was painful enough. Wanting to shut himself from the misery of it all, he simply closed his eyes and bowed his head while allowing his mind to drift into a place far from reality.

"WELCOME, PHARAOH" Came a familiar booming voice, making him fall back to the reality he was inevitably in.

Atem's eyes snapped open in a rate so quick. The thumping of his heart sped up and echoed in his own ears. It was so loud that he was not surprised if it echoed throughout the grand hall. Unconsciously, he began shivering from the cold fear that washed all over him. Cold sweat began escaping from his nervous pores. The cold was so intense. The fear was too unbearable. He was trapped, petrified in the shivering and terror-filled state. He dared not move. He dared not to look up. He was too angry. Too embarrassed. Too anxious. Too..... frightened.

So much emotion filled him. The pressure within him was so intense. So indescribably heavy. So, so trying to force him to burst into tears.

There was a clinking of metal followed by a painful tug on his collar.

Slowly, he looked up. The Roman family dressed in royal white stood before him, staring him down. He stayed silent, allowing his eyes to humbly study each face. Tears of fright were threatening to escape his dull amethyst orbs upon seeing the familiar cruel looks of the Emperor and the Prince. The pain of humiliation burned in his heart as the gazes of the Queen and the Princess lingered on his battered form.

With a drooped and crushed stance devoid of his once proud demeanor, he stood there for what he felt like forever with nothing on but his now dull crown and ragged kilt. Shivers continued to plague him. He could not stop himself. It was too much. The pain, the humiliation, and the loss of dignity, all was too much. He stood out in a horrible, degrading, and painful way. Compared to the magnificence of the people and his surroundings, he felt like a pathetic waste covered in wounds, dirt, and blood.

The Emperor let out a gruff huff. A smirk graced his bearded face upon feeling the fear emanate from his royal captive. "Pharaoh...." He greeted in a tone obviously seeped in mockery. He outstretched both arms. "Welcome to my abode...." His smirk widened. "What do you think of it???" He added as he placed his arms down to his sides.

Silence was Atem's response. He did not even move. The Emperor's voice was like a deadly poison to his whole being, paralyzing his whole form and sucking every bit of hope, pride, and sense of worth he had left.

The Emperor chuckled again. He turned to face his family. "As I have said....." He eyed Atem cruelly. "Pathetic...." There was a pause as he stared deep into those miserable amethyst orbs, relishing the tormented and pained look that invigorated him to no end.

After a boastful laugh, the Emperor told his family the story of how he conquered the Pharaoh's kingdom, adding his own twists and exaggerations that further destroyed Atem. He told them of how he 'easily' reduced the Pharaoh's kingdom to rubble. He bragged about how the captured king 'begged for mercy like a whimpering coward at his feet'.

Laughs resounded throughout the palace. The palace residents were in awe, marveling at the story of their Emperor. Praises for the Emperor and insults for the Pharaoh were said, transforming into mixed mumbles upon synchronizing with one another.

Atem bowed his head. This was getting far too painful to bear. Not only was his body, mind, life, and future being taken away, but also his reputation. He had to block the urge to speak out and save his dignity, knowing that he would be thrown further down the world of pain he was already in. Every word from the Emperor's mouth felt like hot metal sizzling his already battered flesh. Every proud emphasis of his loss in the most exaggerated and most twisted manner was taking the remaining dust out of his shattered self-esteem

Closing his eyes, he fought the tears threatening to once again stream down his face, he clenched his fists so tight that his knuckles turned almost as white as the bone beneath the thin skin, and he desperately and painfully ignored the entire story being mutilated as it was being retold.

However, it was no use. The Emperor's voice boomed through the his senses. More voices gave the Roman king's story a choral background. He could hear words that he wished he never understood. He could feel the many eyes boring holes onto him and the many accusing fingers pointing his way. Painful words, as sharp as swords fresh from a blacksmith's hard work were thrown at him, impaling his heart in every direction. Every attention. Every form of mocking attention was on him, crushing, choking, and drowning him in so much misery.

With his heart crushed and deprived of hopeful warmth. With both his mind and body exhausted and weak. And with his self esteem being reduced to even something lesser than dust, he felt what remained of his little strength trickle away into the harsh world he was now in. He began feeling cold numbing pain boring holes into him. Dropping to his knees, he silently allowed his exhausted eyes to release the tears he had been so desperately holding back.

More insults were thrown at him. More and more words that were a thousand times more painful than freshly sharpened daggers were stabbing his form. He simply ignored it. He simply allowed it to pass, believing that no one in this place has the heart to stop crushing the little orb of light in the darkness they were imprisoning him in.

Little did he know that not every resident of the Roman palace was paying the Emperor's story any heed.

Standing by her family's side, the Princess watched the Pharaoh who was meters from her. Azure orbs were wide and shivering as she watched him with such intensity, staring at every blood trail, every cut, and every part of him that her eyes could see. Everything around her seemed to turn vague and blurry. Every sound around her seemed to be mulled. Only the sight of the Pharaoh drowning in misery remained clear to her senses....