Uuuuuuungh, my BETA is a ho, and has decided not to BETA this now. So I'll have the BETA'd version up tomorrow. Enjoy the crap version now. ...Or not, because I really like this chapter. YAYAYAYAYAFFF
"--And so when elected the Holy Roman Emperor, Ferdinand tried to roll back the reformation. As a result, Protestant countries sent troops into Germany. But political motives outweighed religious ones as some Catholic countries jointed the Protestant countries. Sending out mercenaries, they burned villages, destroyed widespread crops, killing more then a third of Germany's population…"
Malik propped his head up by the palm of his hand onto his desk as his teacher rambled on. She had been going for a while, reading straight from the text book, and writing down important notes onto the board. The sound of chalk connecting to the blackboard was somewhat comforting as she scratched it back and forth. Or at least, it slowly began to lull him to sleep.
It was hard to keep his eyes open as Ms. Brian spoke in interest only to herself. His head would lean forward periodically, and his eyes would droop, leaning onto his hand that supported his head. Her voice, eventually, melded into the background noise of the chalk, and Malik began to give in to sleep. He was so tired… He hadn't had a good night of sleep in so long… And at least, if he slept in school, he wouldn't have reoccurring nightmares of- …
Malik sniffed, looking up boredly. His hand stayed still, not writing down any of the notes that filled the board in front of him. He really should. He really, really should. He had to get it together, keep his head in school. But he just couldn't. Malik couldn't concentrate on anything other then his living devils. Always, always they haunted him. Or- he haunted him. History notes paled in comparison to the war in his mind. So letting the drone of his teacher's voice lead him on, Malik let his eyes slowly close.
Letting himself give in to sleep felt really, really good. His eyes no longer burned, and his body almost instantly relaxed, even though he hadn't yet given into unconsciousness. But Malik cheered his body on to do so. It hurt to be in the conscious state of mind and think, after all. Sighing and leaning over, he folded his arms over his desk and tried to get comfortable.
'Come on, just come on. I only have forty five minutes until Biology…'
Taking only a couple more minutes, Malik finally felt himself falling asleep, little bits of dream mixing in with his reality. Drifting farther and farther away as his head rested on his arms, Malik jerked up suddenly when he felt something vibrate in his pocket. Sitting straight up and his eyes wide from shock, Malik almost forgot to keep quiet when he realized that it was his cell phone. Looking around to see if anyone noticed his sleepy state or the way that he jerked up so suddenly, Malik glanced quickly up at Ms. Brian before reaching into his pocket and flipping open the screen of his phone.
Hey, we still going out tonight?
Malik kept his face blank, typing out his reply. He wasn't fast at texting but he only had one person to text anyway.
Yeah.
Flipping it closed, he slowly brought it out of his pocket to hold under his desk so that he could look down more easily. Everyone knew that Ms. Brian never caught cell phones anyway. Once she got into teacher mode, her head was absorbed in the lesson. It seemed that she cared more about entertaining herself then she did about actually teaching the students. Malik had cared at one point, back when he still got straight A's…
Malik sighed and looked around the room, his eyes still feeling a bit tired. A girl sat next to him, brown hair, thin, pretty over all, and he looked to see the little word doodles she was doing. The window on his left, he let his eyes drift over the other students in the room, some paying attention, some really just not giving a fuck. Eyes moving to the back of the room, he was going to turn around before his cell phone vibrated again. Glancing down, he knew that he wouldn't get caught.
Well we won't go unless you keep your head up Malik. Come on. Just that.
Malik smiled. Well, if that was the initiative… Maybe he could forget about his hell for the day. He would at least try.
Yeah yeah. You're an ass, you know that?
Turning around, Malik raised an eyebrow at the boy sitting behind him. Smiling, Joshua just shrugged.
-
"Where are we gonna go?" Joshua said, leaning against his locker.
Malik frowned, trying to multitask as he figured out which books he needed to take home, and still keeping his head in the conversation. Picking out his Geometry text book and his English binder, he dumped the rest of his books into his locker before slamming the door shut. Looking at the other boy sharply, his expression softened.
"Well there's that one downtown. It's near my apartment. You know the one- Because I mean, man. I really want to see that movie… and it only plays there…"
"You're really a horror junky, aren't you?" Malik grinned, closing his eyes and shrugging for his reply. Shaking his head, Joshua sighed in mock sarcasm. "Oh, if only I could see what you would do if I said no. But I won't. Because I'm such a good friend, you know?"
"Hmm." Humming and scuffing his shoe along the floor, Malik watched the rest of the people in the hallway getting ready for the weekend. Walking over to the doors, he made a move to open them, but stopped when Joshua skidded in front of him suddenly. Taken by surprise, Malik frowned when he opened the door for him. It was a bit odd for him to do something so sudden, but he just voiced a small thanks and let him open the rest of the doors for him. "You're a real freaking gentleman, you know that? But I'm not a girl, so I don't like you practicing chivalry on me."
"Who said that I thought you were a girl?" Smiling again, Joshua reached out a hand to brush a piece of his hair away from his neck.
Malik froze instantly. He had felt his skin. For that one moment, he could feel his skin against him. And he noticed their proximity then. So close. So unbearably close. And he had touched him. Just reached out and touched him and moved his skin against his own, brushed his hand against his neck and- Malik shuddered, trying to regain himself as quickly as possible and wipe the fear off his face.
But Malik was used to fear, especially of late. He could hide his feelings, his fears well. He hid his terror from his family and friends, and so he could hide his sudden phobic reaction from Joshua. Faking a shaky smile, Malik exhaled sharply.
Joshua frowned. Could he tell that something was wrong…? Malik panicked a little before realizing what he was doing. To be so scared when he had so many other things to be more rightly terrified over… No. No, Malik wasn't going to think of that. H-he was going to have a life. He wasn't going to live in a constant fear of touch or- him. He wouldn't really hurt anyone like his letters said. He wouldn't really take him away…
"You okay, Malik? Is something wrong? You just freaked out there all of a sudden." His short brown hair fluttered a bit in the cold winter air. And Malik felt suddenly guilty. He didn't deserve someone who cared like him, who cared without acting outsidedly close. What would happen if he ever lost him? Joshua wasn't like his family. He would understand when he was depressed, and wouldn't ask questions, would give him helpful but blunt support. But his sister would worry constantly over him, having already tried to get him therapy. He could never tell her anything. But he could never tell anyone anything. If Malik lost Joshua… then… he would have nobody left to confide in.
"Nothing's wrong. I just… got really scared for a second… I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry. For everything…"
And Joshua didn't reply when Malik let himself break down just a little. He just stayed silent, the only sound their clunking shoes against the sidewalk and the cars that whizzed by as they walked back home in the bleak weather. And Malik appreciated that more then anything. Sometimes the best support was the silent kind. He didn't feel so terrified when Joshua hugged him without speaking. It was just friendly, even the way that he leaned his mouth in near his neck.
-
There was a feeling of dread that Malik couldn't shake as he got ready to leave. Something in the pit of his stomach that begged and screamed for him to stay home. He could hear it wailing and pleading, clawing against his insides. Anything to keep him from going out. But the feeling was almost normal now, so Malik ignored it as he zipped his coat up. Reaching into his pocket to pull out his spare change, Malik froze when he felt the texture of paper.
Without looking, Malik closed his eyes when he walked over to his kitchen's trashcan, and ripped the letter to shreds. And it was as if the sickness in the pit of his stomach left him as he did so. If it wasn't there, it wasn't real. But the letter had been unopened, in his pocket… It had been purposefully put there-
'No. Don't think. Just don't think. Don't think, just go. It'll be fine, there's nothing to worry about. He won't hurt you. He's just in your head… Everything's just all in your head…'
Opening his eyes and looking up despondently at his reflection in the window of his kitchen, Malik grew depressed at the expression on his face. What had happened to him? The question was easy to answer. Because he now had a key to his apartment… He had broken in, there was no other explanation for the letter in his pocket, or the flowers laid on his bed. Both had suffered the same fate, though. Malik hoped they rotted together in the dump.
Unable to look at himself any longer, Malik took deep breaths, clenching his hand around the cell phone that Joshua had given him. Calm, calm… Tonight would be fun. He knew it would be. He just needed to prep himself a little after his short wave of depression and fear. Breathing slowly for another minute, Malik sighed, deeming himself ready to leave. Picking up his wallet (which was pathetically thin), Malik left the kitchen to the living room, pausing when he tightened his hand around the door knob.
"Isis! I'm going out with Joshua! I'll be back tonight!" He yelled, waiting for a reply. There was a brief moment of silence before he heard his sister's voice from her bedroom.
"Okay. Be back before eleven!"
Smiling just a little, Malik pulled his shoes on and left the apartment, locking it behind him just in case.
-
"You're late." A short scowl was set as Malik stood up, seeing Joshua jog up in front of him. Sitting on the concrete steps of the movie theater before standing up, he punched him in the arm. A small chastisation for his wait.
"Hey, hey. I'm not that late." Panting a little from his run, Joshua grinned at him as he stood with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
Malik raised an eyebrow at him, frown still on his face, but it was starting to leave.
"What?" Joshua fakingly pouted as Malik frowned harder. "What? Okay, okay. I'm fifteen minutes late. But I mean, it's not really that bad!"
"The movie already started."
His face freezing and his breath no longer coming in short, Joshua paused for only a quick time before standing up straight suddenly.
"Then why the hell are we standing around out here!? Come on, I'm paying for this thing!" Grinning again at him, Malik let his frown drop, and he smiled back even though the movie he had waited to see had already started. Starting to run up the steps, Joshua grabbed his hand, and Malik let him. Pulling him behind him, Malik's smile faltered a little when he did not let go even after the tickets were paid for.
Thrusting the ticket stub into his hand along with a box of popcorn, Joshua's hand only left his to hold the load of food he had bought for himself. Nervous, Malik shifted in his seat when they sat down in the theater and the lights dimmed. Keeping his hand off of the arm rest, he sat in the corner of his seat. But somehow, Joshua always managed to touch him. Which ruined the movie. What was the point of going to see a horror, when the object of your own phobia was playing in real life?
-
The lights flooding on, Malik stared with an open mouth at the screen as the credits continued to roll to the end. Not moving at all, he only closed his mouth when he heard Joshua speak.
"That was…"
"…so bad…"
And they burst out laughing. Joshua doubled over, holding his stomach as he laughed, Malik throwing his head back. Jumping up from his seat, he continued to laugh, stumbling out into the isle, his friend following.
"Even for-- a slasher flick-- that was terrible!" Malik had to catch his breath as he laughed, not caring that the other people in the lobby were staring at them as they laughed with each other.
"I know, did you see it!? I mean he comes up behind her and-- Oh my god! That was priceless!" Leaning on him, Joshua wheezed from laughing so hard, stumbling behind Malik as he supported them both out the door. A burst of cold air battering Malik's hair against his face, he shivered, still grinning, but his laughs subsided for the most part. A wake up call of sorts. Looking up at the sky, Malik watched the last bits of light leave before it became pitch black and the street lights flooded on.
Shivering again, Malik felt a chill down his back that wasn't from the weather. The sounds of the city and Joshua's continuing laughter becoming muted, Malik was plunged into a soundless world apart from his own heart beat. He froze, and he could feel something. Just something that he was able to understand perfectly. He could feel pure, unadulterated anger, a deep longing, a pit of sadness. And the distinct feeling of being watched. All of that as he stood in the freezing city streets. His chest clenching up in fear, he looked around worriedly, scared of what he had felt, and nervous as the world came slowly back to him. Staring off into the dark alleys of their city, Malik wondered if he really had made the right choice about going out.
Stepping a little off balance, Malik looked over as the brown haired boy straightened up. Exhaling sharply, still with a grin, Joshua composed himself.
"Hey. We still have time before your curfew, and I'm freezing. Want to grab some coffee? I'll pay, I swear. I won't leave you to bust tables for stealing their food."
"Yeah, sure, just so long as you keep that promise…" His mind not fully with his friend, Malik looked away dully. Taken aback by his sudden change in attitude, Joshua frowned and started to walk, Malik following him. A little bit of silence would be okay…
The wind was cold against his face, and his coat helped only a bit. It bit him and whipped around him, his cheeks growing hot. Watching his way as they crossed the street, Malik kept as close as he felt comfortable with next to Joshua. Because he felt it again. The feeling of being watched. And now… the knowledge that… he very might well be… Malik felt so sick. He needed to cry. But he wouldn't. Malik would never let himself cry. He would never degrade himself like that, even in a situation that he was in…
Shadows stretching far along the ground, Malik watched as cars speeding by cast their different colored lights onto the adjacent buildings. He thought he could faintly hear footsteps, but the sounds of the city drowned them out. So ignoring the way the hair raised on the back of his neck, Malik entered the little coffee shop when Joshua opened the door again for him.
The inside was flooded with bright artificial light. Blue booths lining the wall, it was small but homey. Looking down at the black and white tiled floor, Malik glanced up when a waitress came to seat them. She looked young, nineteen maybe, and had dark brown hair that was mussed up into a bun at the top of her head. Small bits of her curly hair hanging down past her cheekbones, she was pretty enough. But Malik didn't notice. It wasn't only other men that put him off… Malik wondered if the feeling of her skin would feel as disgusting as well…
Following her to a booth near the window, Malik sat down on the cushioned seat, Joshua sitting across from him. Leaning his elbows onto the table, he looked expectantly up at the waitress, and then over to Joshua.
"Is there anything I can get you with? Or would you like a little time before you order?" She brought out a little pad, and Malik opened his mouth, but Joshua cut him off.
"Two iced coffees please." He ordered from them both, and Malik was a bit put off. He would have just gotten something that he knew he liked… Looking down at them, she wrote down the order, and Malik read her name tag, noting her to be Carla. Smiling and telling them that it would be quick and that they could call if they wanted something else, she left them alone.
Joshua turned to him. "I hope you don't mind about that. But I really want you to try this stuff. It's really good."
"No, I don't mind…" Malik's voice trailed off, and he glanced away. His good mood was almost completely gone, replaced by the smallest bit of depression. It had come on so fast…
Again silent, Malik had nothing other to do then to look around the room. There weren't many other people. A young couple a few seats down, engaged in a heated discussion over whether or not the woman's pants made her look fat or not, an old man sitting by himself near the window, a college student fiddling with his straw at the bar, and another man sitting by himself in the corner of the room, reading a newspaper. Or would so appear. But when Malik looked over at him, he caught his eyes very briefly, one of the strongest looks he had ever been given, and Malik looked away quickly, shivering. His eyes, his skin color, his hair… It was so odd…
"So…" Malik looked back as he heard Joshua speak. "you got today's notes, right?"
Chewing his lip, Malik grinned nervously. "Well I mean, as much as I could with Ms. Brian droning on like that…"
Smiling back at him, Joshua was a master at conversation. He was always happy, always smiling, and he was always able to make Malik's mood lift. On a dime, he could set the tone of a conversation, and it always worked in his favor. Letting him do what he was obviously talented at, Malik forgot about the feeling of being watched, of his fear, and of the brief flash of absolute terror he felt when he had looked over at the man in the corner.
Their iced coffees arriving, Malik was once again laughing. Joshua was such a good friend. He could always make him feel good. Nothing was ever awkward between them. Laughing softly after he finished telling what he had said back to one of their classes' pot heads, Malik looked up at him curiously when he paused.
It wasn't often that Joshua stopped talking in the middle of one of his stories. Watching as he bit his bottom lip, Malik's full attention was on him as he continued to talk again.
"Malik…" Something was a bit off with him. Whether it be his somewhat nervous posterior, or the way that his voice became so much more soft and serious. "I know that… this will probably fuck everything up, and that I'm a real idiot… But for a while now- oh man, how do I say this?" He laughed nervously, shaking his head in his hands, all the while still smiling. Breathing deeply, his shoulders moving up with the motion, he was no longer smiling when he dropped his hands.
"-You're going to hate me. I know that. But I just… I can't keep going on like this. It's killing me, it really is. The reason I wanted to take you to the movies today- the reason why- god, everything! Ugh, I don't know, I- I don't know what to say. I'm not good at stuff like this, but, Malik…"Another deep breath, and he continued, locking eyes with him, Malik not daring to look away. Leaning forward, his voice became a whisper, and his eyes were the most serious that he had ever seen. "Malik… I think that I'm in love with you. Ever since I saw you- and I couldn't tell anyone that I'm… you know… not straight… But I'm telling you now. You'll call me a freak, hate me, never want to see me again. And I'm prepared for that. But Malik. I have to let you know. I can't keep just being friends like this. It's either everything, or nothing. I'm sorry, really, I am."
And keeping his eyes always on him, Joshua leaned over, reaching out a hand, and pulled him to him, kissing him softly.
His lips were soft, and his skin was smooth. He was warm and open, always, always out going. Kissing him, Malik froze as he felt his lips against him, and his hand against his cheek. Physically and mentally, Malik could do nothing other then sit unresponsive across from him, only one thought running through his head. The reminder of a memory that he didn't think he could ever forget. He hadn't felt the feeling of lips against his own for so long, and he had hoped he would have never felt them again.
It all came to him suddenly. The realization of what was happening. The fact that his best friend, the one person who he had thought cared about him, was hurting him so much, was touching him. Kissing him. His whole body tensing with fear of the present and of memory, Malik's eyes were wide when his lips finally left his own, his hand still staying on his cheek. Joshua looked up at him with his dark eyes, smile gone from his face. And when he leaned in to him again, Malik couldn't take it anymore. Standing up suddenly, Malik reached a hand to his mouth, knocking the coffee over as he did so. Tears welling in his eyes from the absolute betrayal and fear, he backed out of the booth slowly.
"Malik…?" His voice was soft, but it did nothing to help. That had been his first real kiss… Repeating his name again, Malik's vision became blurry through the tears that threatened to spill over. Him, him, him, him, his life, everything, nothing and everything at once. The letters, the threats, the proclamations, everything. Joshua's kiss. It was too much to handle. It was a breaking point, every bit of stress and fear he had felt in the past year coming to him in one moment. He felt the tears come. But Malik wouldn't show the world his weakness, would not show his best friend how much he hurt inside through his front of courage. And so turning quickly, Malik ran out of the store, the little bell ringing on the way out as Joshua called after him, and Malik felt tears spill out of his eyes.
The wind did nothing against him as he ran, his shoes thumping against the ground. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the stress, the fear. It was too much. It was overwhelming him, sucking him down into a bottomless stronghold of hell. He needed out, anyway out. And if his temporary panacea was to let go and sob, he would do so alone, running back home, not in front of his best friend. He didn't want the world to see him. He didn't want anyone to know how much life was eating away at him from the inside. He didn't blame Joshua. He didn't hate him. The only person he hated was himself. His damned life, the way that he had fucked it up himself. It was all his fault, his phobia. It was his fault that he couldn't be touched… Everything was his fault. It would be better if he had never been born.
Letting himself cry, Malik didn't stop running until he got to his apartment complex, hiding his face as he walked up the stairs to his door, stifling the sound of his crying as he unlocked the door. Humiliated, disgusted, terrified, and depressed, Malik opened and shut his door slowly, falling onto his bed, not taking off his shoes as he curled up and sobbed without noise, hiding his face in his hands.
He was going to die. He was going to die. He didn't deserve to live. No reason at all to keep on going. He was only a burden, the reason his family was struggling, the reason Joshua was upset, the reason his mother had died… Maybe he should let his stalker take him away like he promised. It would be good for the world, without him. He was so selfish. He was terrified of his stalker, no words to describe his fear. It would be good for him to disappear, though. But he couldn't. He couldn't give himself up… he was so selfish…
His tears were wet against his hand as the new thought dragged him down. He couldn't go on like this. Crying was not enough, only amplifying how disgusting he had become. He was so weak that he now cried… Malik wasn't a real man… But he had to have a way out. It was his ending point. He… needed to tell someone. He had to get away. He couldn't go on. He had to tell someone about his stalker. Or, if not that… he would go to the address that his stalker had written in his recent letter, his house. He would go and let him take him away, just give up. Let the Knight tip his King over, let the chess piece fall against the checkered board.
But could he do that to his sister, his brother, Joshua? He had hurt them enough, screwed them over enough by simply living. What would happen if he were to disappear? Would it be too much? His sob stopping momentarily, Malik stared dully at his hand, silent tears still dripping from his eyes as they ran hot against his nose. His sister wouldn't be able to handle it, his brother wouldn't, either. Joshua, he- he would take it hard… Harder now that he had admitted everything. He would think it was his fault. Malik didn't want to hurt them anymore then he already had.
Malik would tell.
He wouldn't be weak, he wouldn't just give in. He would surround his King with Rooks, Pawns… Malik would leave no room for a checkmate. He would turn his opponent's own strategy against him and take his King. He would tell Joshua. It would be his apology. It would fix everything, and Malik would never have to look behind his shoulder again.
Glancing away to his bedside table, Malik, resolved, picked up a bouquet of flowers that he had missed. Lilacs and roses tied together with a yellow string. Looking dully at the nametag that came with it and keeping only the folded hundred dollar bill, Malik ripped off the flower heads and threw them to the ground, tearing apart the stems and letting them fall out of his hand. Watching as the petals spread out across his floor, Malik crumpled the nametag in his hand.
I'll always be there, Malik, even when you're gone. I love you. Always.
-M.T.I.
The boy's eyes were impossibly wide as Mariku kept his hand on his neck, lifting him above the ground just a bit, pressing him against the grungy wall. Giving into his desires, Mariku squeezed his neck as hard as he could for a couple of seconds, watching him gasp and gurgle, reaching hands off to try and pry him away. Scowling in disgust and pure hatred, Mariku slammed his head back against the wall, dropping the dazed boy to the ground. He watched as he sputtered for breaths. Wasting no time, Mariku kicked him hard in the side, grinning crazed as he heard him cry out. He liked to hear sounds like that from filth like him. Wanting to hear it again, Mariku kicked him over and over, relishing in his pathetic whimpers as he struggled to curl up and deflect the kicks from his head.
Growing bored of how he did not retaliate, Mariku growled before pulling him up and pushing him against the wall to support him. His face was covered in blood and his eyes were unfocussed. Mariku shook him. He looked back a little clearer before but still incredibly hazy.
"You must think you're pretty damn special, huh? What the fuck do you think you are, touching him like that?! Oh, I know your kind. The world is aaalll yours, huh? And everyone around you, including my boy?" He hissed, pushing his face up until his nose was centimeters from his. Mariku made an expression of disgust as he smelled the blood on him. "Well you should have fucking thought twice. Because, guess what, you little shit, he's mine! You have no right to touch him and take him from me! Malik is mine!! Do you think you're that goddamn privileged!? Huh, do you!? Answer me, you pathetic excuse of a boy!" Gritting his teeth together, Mariku slammed his head back against the wall, listening as he cried out in pain. Every sound he made only heightened Mariku's feeling of revenge. He had waited so long to hurt him…
Gurgling again, Joshua struggled for a breath. Wheezing in, his eyebrows furrowed, he looked up at Mariku with an expression almost void of fear. "Wh-Who says-- that you- are allowed to call- h-him y-yours?"
Staring at him, Mariku was taken aback. Infuriated beyond anything he had ever felt before, he stared with wide eyes back before starting to laugh softly, it gaining volume every time his shoulders shook. Throwing his head back, Mariku roared in laughter before gaining composure, his laughs drawing down to a light chuckle.
"You're hilarious, kid. Saying something as cocky as that in the position that you're in…? Damn. Maybe you have more backbone then I thought. But first, let's get this straight." Leaning into him again, Mariku grinned, showing his teeth, his eyes wild. "The only person who ever, ever, has given a single fuck, about him… is me. I own him, and I've watched too long to see some fucking bitch like you touch him and talk to him and look at him while I can't. Too fucking long. So I'm going to end it now, and my Malik will be only mine again. Too bad, kid. If only you hadn't kissed him, maybe I could have let you live."
Dropping him, Mariku watched as he tried to scramble back, watched his body shaking in fear from him. And it felt so good. He had waited so long for this moment… So lowering his eyes and smiling, Mariku reached into his pocket and pulled out his gun. Undoing the safety, he memorized the look on his face before pulling the trigger.
Blood splattered onto the walls, onto the ground, everywhere that he could see. It pooled beneath the body that was now limp against the disgusting ground. Similar things should always be grouped together. Walking forward and listening as his boots squished from the blood on the ground, Mariku looked down with lowered eyes at the hole in the boy's neck. He kneeled, cocking his head to the side, and grinned once again in a crazed manner as he saw the blood that had splattered onto his face. Humming a bit, he stood, nudging the body with the toe of his shoe, and watching as the head rolled back lifelessly into place.
Looking around, Mariku frowned at the soft light of the city street. Glancing once more at the dead boy at his feet, Mariku smirked, looking away. He really did care about Malik. This was all in his favor. At least he wouldn't have to worry about seeing him at school after what had happened. After all, Malik didn't need anyone other then him. Malik needed nothing other then his love. He loved him more then anything he had ever seen before. Malik was the only thing he needed, and if he wasn't the only thing that Malik needed, then he would eliminate all other competitors.
One pawn down. Malik was ready for checkmate.
The safest place to be in his room, Malik learned, was his bathroom. If he locked the door and hid behind the shower, it was easy to imagine that he could not be seen. It was all very futile, though. Because if someone was really hell bent on finding him, it would be all to easy to catch him. The thought didn't bode well in Malik's mind.
He could try to hide under his bed, but that was predictable. He only had a dresser, a bookshelf, and table in his room; none suitable for hiding behind either. He could try the closet, but that was just as cliché as the bed. The shower he could hide in. But all that would take to find him would be to open the sliding door. Whimpering, Malik sighed.
There was really no point in trying to hide. Maybe he wouldn't even need to try and hide. Maybe he was just making himself paranoid over nothing. Malik knew that he didn't need anymore stress, but the knowledge of the unknown was more terrifying then the facts. The facts were that Mariku was gone, Malik was alone, locked in his room, and Bakura would be coming home at any time. Would Bakura try to hurt him, or would he just simply ignore him? Everything lied on that answer, but Malik had no way to answer it. The most he could to was sit on his bed and try to read. But even that he wasn't good at, as his mind wondered constantly to the fear that clawed at his chest.
Malik was backed up far into the corner of his bed, where the mattress frame met the wall. He had curled his knees up close to his chest. He felt safer that way, smaller. Malik appreciated corners so much more, now. His book was limp in his hands, eyes not focusing on the text as he read the same line over and over. It was about war, the Holocaust, and it made Malik a bit sick to read. He was tired of torture… Looking away with his eyebrows furrowed, Malik longed desperately for Mariku to come back.
He had left yesterday, giving Malik a lengthy goodbye, and Malik's chest constricted when he heard the slam of the door shutting, signaling his leave throughout the house. Because without Mariku… without his constant reminder… it would be all to easy to let himself give in to desperation. Without his love, Malik would begin to remember how much he hated him, how terrified he was of him, how horrifying the sound of his voice was… B-But he didn't. N-no, he didn't. Malik loved him, he really, really did. That was the only choice. Malik loved him, and he missed him. He wanted him back…
Sniffing, Malik felt his nerves lessen slightly. He felt suddenly tired, and so he set his book face down onto the bed, not losing his place. The feeling of his comforter against his legs when his pants rode up a bit at the ankle made him shiver as he laid down. Wrapping his arms around himself, Malik traced his finger along the bed sheet in front of his face. Mariku had rape- made love to him here. Suddenly, Malik's bed no longer seemed as comforting and safe as it had been before…
Looking over at the window, Malik noticed the leaves that had begun to appear on the trees, the landscape no longer covered in green only by the pine trees. Everything was changing… He had lived with Mariku for four months, enough for the seasons to change. Malik looked away back to his bed sheets. He sighed and closed his eyes. The thought was not rested upon. Instead, Malik let himself fall gradually asleep. The best way to deal with fear was to forget about it, after all.
But sleep seemed to be all too short, and Malik awoke with a start when he heard something slam shut. His eyes snapping open immediately, he looked around fearfully, not knowing what was going on. The sound of something thumping, and Malik's breath caught in his throat. Bakura was home.
His body was lethargic as he panicked, sitting straight up, not knowing what to do. He looked around wildly, checking for any sort of hiding place. It went on for what seemed longer then it should have, looking. Shouldn't Bakura already be in his room terrorizing him? Malik was confused, and so he stayed put, frozen, holding his breath in fearful anticipation. He didn't want to make any noise. He didn't want to alert Bakura to his presence. Shifting, Malik's heart stopped when he knocked his book off the side of his bed, it making a loud clanking sound with the floor. It made him want to cry in frustration.
Everything was quiet for a moment. He had heard Bakura moving around downstairs, doing whatever it was that he was doing. But now it was all quiet. Sucking in a breath, Malik squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself again. He had heard. He knew it. So why was he taking so long…? Malik asked the question all too fast when he heard the inevitable thump of feet on stairs.
Freezing up again, Malik panicked. He slid quickly off his bed, standing in the middle of the room, and looked wildly around. The footsteps were getting closer, and Malik could find no where to hide and save himself. In one last pathetic attempt, Malik moved to the side of his room, and curled up next to his bookshelf, hiding his face in his arms, terrified. His body trembled from fear, and he couldn't keep his breathing straight. Choking up, Malik heard the footsteps outside his door, and he tightened his arms around himself.
There was the jingle of the doorknob, and his stomach dropped, a wave of coldness washing over him. Bakura had found a key. His teeth chattered in fear, staring with wide eyes at his arms as he tried to scoot farther into the corner and tighten his arms harder.
'Please don't see me. Please don't see me. Please don't see me…'
Malik chanted it over and over again. Maybe the same gods that were punishing now would let up a little. Just a little so that he would not die that day. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die…! Malik sobbed before silencing himself as he heard his door creak slowly open. He could not see from his spot, and so could only stare in muted terror at the wall in front of him.
He heard Bakura moving, knew he was in his room as his steps became soft to sharp, walking from his carpeted bedroom to his tile bathroom. He stayed in there for no more then a minute, though it felt like an eternity to Malik as he tried to stifle his terror. Malik couldn't help to stop his shaking no matter how hard he tried. He was resigned to his fate as Bakura's footsteps left his bathroom.
Even his heart stopped beating when he heard the open and close of his closet. There was only one place left to look. Clapping a hand over his mouth as he stared in petrified terror at the wall adjacent from himself, Malik's knees trembled. This was it. This was really it. He was going to die. And Mariku had let him.
"There you are. In a room like this, it's pointless to try and hide." Malik stared up at Bakura when he loomed over him, his face cold as it always was. Feeling so sick, Malik began to hyperventilate as Bakura grinned. He had hoped to never see him again in his life. "Now get the fuck out of there."
Bakura grew angry when Malik did not move, gritting his teeth. Glaring down at him, he punched the wall above his head, and his voice rose. "I told you to get the fuck out of there! Damn it, move!!" Raising his hand in a motion to hit him, Malik jerked forward. He kept his hands around his stomach, knowing that he would be sick as he stood up as quick as he could and left his corner. He moved to the middle of his room, passing Bakura by, and staying as far away from his as possible. Malik bent over a little at the middle like a cowering animal, his expression terrified as he hyperventilated. Trying to move into another corner and save himself, he sobbed when Bakura yelled at him again.
"No! Stay in the middle. You're not getting away from me again." He grinned at Malik's fear. His face heated up in gut churning sickness and terror as he forced himself to move to the middle of the room. Malik really was a cornered animal as he longed to move back to the corner and out of his vulnerable place out in the open.
His breaths coming in shakily, he didn't bother to hide his emotions, letting them all show. Bakura knew him the best. He knew him for how pathetic he was. Malik's knees felt like they would buckle as Bakura narrowed his eyes and moved to walk around him. He began to shake again as Bakura circled him, squeezing his eyes shut and dry sobbing. He was going to die. Bakura was going to kill him. He would strangle him with his bed sheets, and dump his body out in the woods. And he would tell Mariku that he had ran away. There was nobody there to save him… He was going to die, and he would never see his family again. The sheets would be stained with blood, and Bakura would cut him before killing him, and-
"Mariku said he wouldn't be back for another day. You know what that means, right?" His voice was smooth and languid, his accent adding to the effect. Malik's stomach lurched at his words.
"N-No…" He moaned as his voice trailed off.
"It means," Bakura said, grinning again as he moved in close to him, "that me and you are all alone. It means that I could do whatever I wanted with you, and nobody would ever know."
He was playing something, some kind of game. He was working his fear up, and when it got to the summit- well, when that happened, Malik knew that he really would be fucked. Squeezing his eyes shut, Malik resigned himself to his fate. There was no one there to save him… Malik longed desperately for Mariku to come back.
Jumping, Malik opened his eyes suddenly when he felt Bakura's hand brush against his face. Gasping, Malik jerked back, and moved to the wall as quickly as he could, sliding down it just a bit as he fought the need to cry. He had touched him, touched him… He could touch him. And that was what scared him the most.
"P-please…" Malik's voice wavered as he fought to keep himself composed and not just break down before the man. "P-please don't touch me. Please, please I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I-I'll do whatever you want, just please don't hurt me. P-Please don't touch me, don't touch me…" His eyes felt heavy with tears as he stared down at the carpet at his feet, his face hot. He was so scared… He just wanted to be left alone…
Bakura's face was expressionless as he looked back at him, only the smallest of frowns gracing his lips. Staring at him, Bakura uncrossed his arms and glared. "You're so fucking pathetic. Who said I ever wanted to touch something like you?" He frowned again as Malik continued to choke back on his sobs. Sighing, Bakura growled and ran his hand through his hair. Looking back hard at him, Bakura's voice became different. "But don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. Now stand up and stop crying."
He became angry when Malik struggled to do so, his knees still shaking and eyes still watery with the threat of tears. "I said stop crying!" Bakura snapped when he did not immediately obey him. Malik made a slight hiccupping noise as he tried to stop himself.
"Good…" Bakura nodded slightly, his long, light hair moving with the motion. "Now, come with me. We're going downstairs." His voice left no room for challenge, but Malik paused, again terrified. What was he going to do with him? Was he going to cut him with a butcher knife from the kitchen? Would he stab him with- "I said get moving!" Jumping, Malik would do whatever it took to not be killed, and obeyed him. Immediately moving from his place from the wall, Bakura pushed him out the door, making him stumble.
Malik had been out of the room only a few times, and all were filled with horrible memories. His stomach churned from remembering when he had tried to escape, and Bakura pushing him along behind him helped none. Clutching his stomach again, he had to use the rail of the stairs to support himself.
The house seemed smaller now, not as big as he had thought it was before, although it was still large. Ornate walls and well decorated, Malik wondered briefly if Mariku had decorated the house himself. It seemed unlikely. Malik gasped when he stumbled a little and Bakura continued to shove him forward. He had almost tripped. But the walk wasn't long, and when he reached the bottom set of stairs, he felt Bakura's hand around his upper arm. Shivering, the only thing that kept him from breaking down was that he was wearing medium lengthed sleeves, and could not feel his skin.
"You try to run," Bakura hissed, moving his mouth next to Malik's ear, "and I'll shoot you like I promised. So don't get anything through your head." He drew away, but continued to keep a hold on him. Pushing him forward again, Bakura forced him to walk through the hallway, and Malik remembered the first time that he had seen it. It was still the same… He really did live here…
Stumbling again, Malik was confused when Bakura pushed him into a different room then he had expected. The living room. Malik was confused, starting to walk slower as he looked around. Bakura growled as he slowed down, but it didn't matter, because he had moved him to the middle of the room. Stopping, Malik looked quickly at the door, one thought flitting across his mind. But Bakura pushed him before he could do anything. Taken by surprise, Malik couldn't find his footing, and fell back. Reaching out behind him, expecting to fall to the ground, he made an 'umph' sound when he landed on a couch, and not the hard floor. Looking up fearfully, Malik scrunched himself close to the corner of the seat and armrest, watching as Bakura looked down at him.
Bakura scowled and picked up a remote from the table in front of the couch. Tossing it to him, Malik caught it quickly, confused and scared. What was he doing…? "Watch T.V. or something. Don't you dare move. I'll be back." Giving him no other acknowledgement, Bakura left the room.
Malik was left alone. Alone. By himself. And there was a door right next to him. The door. Escape, escape. He could leave, run away, and- No. Malik had learned. It would never work. Bakura had a car. He could catch him all too quickly. And he loved Mariku, anyway. He wouldn't leave him…
Malik sighed and moved his head away from where he had been staring at the door. Looking around, he shifted uncomfortably, folding his legs underneath himself. Mariku's house was big. And expensive. Everything was so extravagant. There was a glass table in front of him, seated on a rug that looked as though it had been imported. The floor was hardwood and the walls were brick. Red furniture dotted the room including the couch he was sitting on and the ottoman next to him. A flat screen T.V. hung on the wall, and Malik could see a case filled with DVDs. He had never really expected Mariku to have interests, or take pleasure in anything. He had forgotten that he was human, and liked things that most people did…
"Are you stupid, or something? Do you not know how to use a remote?" Malik flinched back when he heard Bakura's voice. Standing in the doorway, Bakura scowled at him. "Whatever. I brought you food." Giving him a look, Bakura tossed a bag of chips at him, and Malik caught it clumsily, not expecting anything to be thrown at him again. Dropping the remote, Malik looked down, surprised to see a bag of Doritos in his hands. It was almost funny in a sense. He hadn't been expecting that…
"Don't even try to tell me you're not hungry. I know that Mariku forgot to feed you again. So just eat it." Narrowing his eyes, Bakura crossed the room to stand in front of him. Malik flinched back again, and Bakura laughed. "Just give me the damn remote. Since you're too stupid to use it, I will." Not giving him any other mocking words, Bakura picked up the remote that Malik had dropped next to him, and moved to the chair next to the couch. Slumping down in it, Bakura was silent as he flipped the T.V. on.
The screen blipped a couple of times before a picture appeared, and sound came directly afterwards. It was a news show, and Bakura made a dissatisfied face before flipping through the channels. And Malik was so confused. This was so… surreal. The last time he had seen Bakura, was when he had threatened to kill him, rape him, had taken him back to Mariku. He had hurt him, scarred him, physically and mentally. And now here he was, while Mariku was gone, prime time to kill him. And instead of doing anything that Malik would have thought would be productive to him… He had let him out of his room, taken him downstairs, given him junk food, and was watching T.V. in the same room as him. He obviously had a plan. This was just… too… surreal.
Looking over at the other man, Malik furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to make any sudden moves, or even move at all, anything to remind Bakura that he was still there as he watched T.V. He wanted to go back to his room… Just go back to sleep and wait for Mariku to come back. But… He hadn't been out of his room in so long… The white walls were starting to make him go insane. It was good to be out, even if every move he made had him terrified that Bakura would hurt him. Glancing down at the bag in his hands, he looked over at Bakura, and then back down. Wincing when the bag crinkled as he opened it, Malik was wary to eat the food.
But he was hungry, and Bakura had told him to do so… So tentatively, Malik reached into the bag, and ate one of the chips. It was a bit spicy, which he wasn't expecting, but it tasted good and he was hungry. Malik looked up at the T.V., periodically seeing what Bakura was watching. It was some sort of cop show and he looked away. He was tense, nervous, and somehow, it just didn't feel right to watch. He… was away from home, in the middle of Minnesota. There shouldn't be T.V.. It reminded him that the world continued to turn, even after he had been kidnapped. And it felt like he was being slighted. His life had been destroyed, ruined, and there was nobody to mourn for him.
No. No, h-he couldn't think like that. He loved Mariku, h-he did. He wanted to be here. Yes… that was it. He wouldn't think so negatively. It was all lies. But… without Mariku to distract him… Malik felt his mind reverting back to how he had been before. His enviorment had changed once again. How was he to adapt this time? He had to keep the same mindset… He couldn't let himself break down…
"Are you scared?"
Malik paused when he heard Bakura speak, confused at his softer tone. He had never heard him speak like that… He looked over at him, but Bakura did not look at him. He continued to look at the T.V., but Malik could tell that he wasn't really watching it.
"I-" Was he? Was he really? He loved Mariku, right? But… Did Malik really fear for his life like his subconscious told him? What would Bakura's reply be if he told him that he loved him…? Malik still had to be wary. This could all be a trick to lure him into becoming used to the situation. Bakura could still hurt him at any time. "I-… I don't know…"
Bakura frowned at the television. "You don't know? You know, Malik. Why don't you want to tell me? Is it that you just don't want to tell me, or that you don't want to admit it to yourself?"
"I-"
"Stop stuttering. Either think out what you're going to say first, or don't say anything at all. But I won't let you not answer me, so stop fucking stuttering."
Malik chewed his lip, looking away. What was the answer to that? Was Bakura right? Was this just another way to hurt him? But… what really was the answer? Malik sighed. Dropping the bag of chips, he moved his knees up to his chest and hid his face in his hands. He didn't know what to do…
"I… I am scared…" Malik's voice was almost a whisper, but he knew Bakura could hear him. But admitting it was more for himself, then for the British man. "I'm so scared, I'm so scared. I want to go home, I don't want to be here. I'm terrified that he's going to kill me. He's already touched me… I don't want to feel him. I want my sister and my brother and my life back. B-But I can't. He won't let me go… He never will… A-And I can't keep going on like this. I have to love him, I need to love him. Because if I don't… I'll go insane, and I'll be the one to kill myself in the end…"
There was a silence that stretched long after that, broken only by the sound of the television. Malik didn't care anymore. He didn't care that Bakura would hurt him. He was always hurt in the end, anyway. He could hit him, punch him all he wanted. It would do nothing. Malik was hurting so much more on the inside, anyway… And in a sense, Malik had become so much stronger while he had grown weaker. The things that would have hurt him before were now nothing. He had hardened, but not in the ways that would help him. At least he hadn't only lost, but gained a little as well…
"You would give up that easily, Malik?" Malik looked warily over at Bakura through his parted fingers. He had turned his head and was facing him now. It was one of the few times that Malik had not seen him mad. "You would give everything up so easily? Aren't you going to fight back? I remember when you used to scream at him. I could hear you both. I think you even bit him once… You would scream and protest. You never broke down, even when you cried. And it stopped when he raped you, didn't it? That's when you gave up. Is that all it takes, Malik? Just touch?" Bakura's face was hard. This was something new… Malik had always seen him as spontaneous and sadistic. But… maybe he wasn't as he had believed him to be. This Bakura was calm, intelligent. Everything was so much different when you looked at it the second way around.
"…I should do to you what he did. I should touch you, fuck you, but I won't tell you that I loved you. It would make you realized what a fool you are, how stupid you are to kill yourself over simple touch. Touch doesn't mean anything. It's the motives behind it that do. But… why, Malik? There's a reason, I know it. Just because Mariku is too scared to find out why you are really scared to be touched doesn't mean that I am. I want to know, Malik. And dammit, you'll tell me."
Bakura stared hard at him, the light from the T.V. flashing across his face, creating moving shadows. Malik looked away. He didn't want to look at him… Because Bakura was now something different to him. He was no longer terrifying, but a physical embodiment that voiced all the fears that he had. Should he tell him, should he admit it? Malik was conflicted. He had… never told anybody… And maybe he needed it. Maybe he needed to admit his phobia, let it go. And if he did, maybe it would no longer haunt him… He had lived with the knowledge by himself too long…
"Why do you care…" It was a statement, and Malik stared at the glass table. "You want me dead, you want to kill me… Why do you want to know? I know you don't care about me… Nobody ever has… What reason is there for you to know?"
"Because, Malik," Bakura's voice was serious, and he heard the smallest bit of sadness behind it. Malik looked back at him to watch as he spoke. So much different then Malik had always known him, Bakura looked sadly over at him "…I don't' want anyone else getting hurt."
Anyone… else?
Malik paused, and for the first time in his life, he knew he had to tell. This was what he needed. For himself. It didn't matter that it was Bakura, the only other person besides his nightmare, who had hurt him so much, that he was telling. All that mattered was that he was finally letting go of his misery. It would be gone, forever. He would no longer have to live solely alone with the memories.
"I-… It's because…" Malik exhaled sharply, his stomach becoming sick again as his heart beat faster. He needed this, he needed this. …He really did. So looking up, Malik got rid of his fear, his trepidation. Looking up, Malik felt a small bit of courage return to him. "When I was a child, my Dad- touched me--. It hurt me badly, physically and mentally. I was taken out of school. He used to beat me, but he had never done something like that before. It was the only time, but until he died, I lived in a constant fear of being touched. And it continued when I moved. It's stayed with me. And I guess it's his way of having me remember him.
When Mariku touches me- no, when anybody touches me… I remember… I remember the night that he… raped me, and it doesn't matter if it's even just a simple pat on the back. I-It's everything. I can't live normally, I'm in constant fear. I always remember. And it hurts me. When he touches me, it makes it worse. I-It adds to my memories, and touch no longer reminds me of my father, but of-… Mariku. It reminds me that I'm worthless, that I'll never see my family again… My fear isn't always just of the physical action, but what it embodies… A-And I've never- will never- get over it. I-I don't think I ever can. I'll always remember. Always, always…!"
He hadn't meant to let himself become hysterical, weak again, but he couldn't help it. Malik finally admitted it. He finally told someone else that he had been raped. But- no. What if Bakura didn't believe him!? What if he thought he was lying!? W-What if he had just admitted everything, everything, and would then be rejected!? No… Malik would die if that happened. He would-
"…Do you try, Malik?" Bakura's voice brought him away from the brink, and he lifted his face out of his hands. "Do you ever try to stop it? Or do you just give in? It's so much easier to just give in and be scared… But you can stop it if you try."
He paused for a minute before leaning closer to him. His bangs fell across his face, and if it had been at any other time, the shadows cast around his face would have terrified him. Malik still didn't know who Bakura truly was. But he could believe this part of him. He had to.
"Mariku… doesn't know, does he?"
Malik opened his mouth. What was there to say other then the truth? Malik's courage dropped.
"…No…"
"He has to know, Malik. Mariku, he- he believes that you will love him, he tells himself that the more that he touches you, the more you'll become used to him. But he doesn't know. And the only thing not telling is doing is hurting you both. You have to tell him, Malik, or you will be continued to be scarred, and he will continue to be led on. And I don't want him to be hurt."
Was that true? Maybe it was. But Malik knew one thing: he could never tell him. He couldn't tell Mariku. He could tell Bakura, because Bakura was already his second in command torturer. It didn't hurt because Bakura already hurt him. But if he told Mariku… something horrible would happen… "I can't tell him… I just can't…" Malik sighed, looking away again. Maybe it would have been better if Bakura had just hurt him like he believed he would have, instead of putting him through this… These were things that Malik had not wanted to talk about. "But why do you care? You love him, I know you do. Why don't you want me to be hurt? Wouldn't you give anything for me to die, be hurt, and have Mariku back again?"
"Because, Malik, I already told you: I don't want any one else to be hurt again." His tone was serious, and Malik knew that he had to listen. "I know how he works. I've known him more then I've never known anybody, I know him better then myself. And I don't want him to be hurt. I care about him more then anything, in a way that you wouldn't understand. And… if loving you is what makes him happy… then I'd rather keep him like that. Because I know what happens when he isn't happy; I've seen it before. And I don't want to have it repeat. Because if it does… then I know how it will turn out. Like I said, I don't want you to get hurt. I know how it will end if he is not appeased… Mariku will always come back to me, just like before. But until he realizes this, the most I can do is wait and help him. I'm the only one who can help him, and you will never understand.
I want to help you. Even if I do hate you, I don't want to have you hurt. But I know I can't let you go, because it would hurt Mariku too much. It's why I took you back when you tried to escape. I was going to take you home, Malik, I really was. But… this is in both of your best interests. I will hate anyone who Mariku chooses to love over besides me, it's just how I work. But I don't wish your fate on anyone. I'm not stupid, and I sympathize with you. At this point, though, the best I can do is give you emotional support. I will never let you go, for his sake, and mine. It's not that I hate you, Malik, but I hate whoever Mariku loves besides me. It was my fault for not realizing this sooner. It's my fault that I hurt you so much before. But realize that I'm not like that. I've known you longer then you realize, Malik, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive, and to keep Mariku happy."
Malik didn't know how to react when Bakura stopped speaking. What was he supposed to say? What would be the right thing to say? No- what was the right way to think? This new information… Everything… seemed to fit more now… And Malik had more questions then before. …Who was Mariku, really?
"I-I…" He was stuttering again, but he didn't care. There was no right way to respond to what Bakura had just said. "I-… Bakura… I want to go home."
"I know, Malik. But you can't. Not until Mariku gets better, or, …you die." The look on his face enveloped everything that he had said, what he had admitted, and everything that he had hinted to. It was sympathetic, but blunt. Bakura knew what he would and wouldn't do. And Malik wouldn't fight him like he fought Mariku. Bakura was smart, and he knew how the world worked. How everything worked. How Mariku worked. Malik could argue as much as he wanted with fate, but it would never change.
Looking away, Malik sighed, and rested his head in his arms once again. He stared at the wall that the door lined. That door… It was the answer to all of his problems. If he could only leave… But Bakura was no longer his enemy. Nor was he his ally. He was a double edged sword. Ready to help him, but to keep him locked away in the pits of hell as he spoke comforting words.
But through it all, Malik now had more motivation to escape. It was a necessity now, more then ever. And when Mariku came back, he knew he would turn his mind off and love him again. He had to plan now, had to find a way to leave. Malik knew that Bakura spoke the truth. He would ever stay here forever, locked away in his white room forever, or die trying to regain the life he had thought he had. Tearing his eyes away from the door, he looked back at Bakura, and knew that he understood what he was thinking.
Exhaling sharply, Malik uncurled his legs from his chest. He had one day. One day to think of how to escape before Mariku came back. It was a game, now. Slay the dragon and save the princess, watching out for the traps planted along the way. And Malik could do it. Living with Mariku had made him stronger. He had learned so much more, from both him, and Bakura. He had no allies, no easy ways out. There was no magical elixer that would give him unlimited life points. He could not just run blindly through the game and expect to win. No… if he wanted to win, he would have to plot, strategize. Malik didn't need a cheat code.
Taking one last look over at Bakura, Malik's mind whirred as he turned the T.V. back on and continued on as if nothing had happened. Bakura may not have been his ally, but he had just given him the one thing he needed to know to escape: It had happened before. Malik was not the first. And if he was the only one now, that meant that the other person had escaped him as well. All he needed to know was the secret of how they had done it.
He would save himself, or die trying.
Remember chapter four? The 'flashbacks' follow it in sequence. So you should have been expecting Joshua's death if you remember pointless crap. Anyway, I wanted to show how Malik's personality changes with his friends, his 'old life', and how he's become after being kidnapped. Before he had been kidnapped, he tried to hide his fear and stress beneath sarcasm, like he had in the beginning.
THE END IS NIGH. Can you tell? MPH. Givea mea review or two. Hell, I put Bakura in this chapter. You gaiz go crazy for his Limey ass.