Good day to you all!
Here's an update! I'm actually going to Thailand tomorrow, hence the weird update time.. Hope it doesn't cause too many problems, I'll be gone for 2 weeks :( / :)
Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it :)
Riiiight, the middle of this chapter caused a loooot of mental hardship: do I put it in? Don't I? Then the reasoning, 'well, maybe let's just go with unconventional..?' I hope it goes down well.. It's.. I don't know.. Let me know what you think (eek!) Haha.
Warnings: strong, bloody horror..
Out of the Ashes – The Ever-Present Past
"I'll only tell you this once, because I know you're perfectly capable of understanding," Bakura growled, his breathing calming down, but his voice still saturated with anger.
Ryou looked up at him from where he sat on the ground.
Bakura had managed to overpower him and chained one of his hands to the metal bar that ran around the front of the fireplace in Marik's study.
"That human is completely out of bounds. He is not to be harmed in any way by you… You're lucky he's still alive, because if he wasn't, I would be a lot more pissed than this." He continued, his narrowed dark eyes meeting Ryou's defiant stare, "You know he's not food, and he did not rape me last week. If you so much as lay a finger on Marik with the intention of hurting him, so help me Ryou, I don't know what the fuck I'd do."
Bakura paced the room restlessly. Seeing Ryou trying to kill Marik yet again had really severed a couple of the last strings that he was trying to hold on to before completely losing the will. It was different this time. When they had been getting him back from King, Bakura had been there in the room- he'd been able to intervene as soon as possible, pulling Ryou off him quickly, rather then like this… Neither was safe unattended, and he couldn't babysit them both, especially when Ryou was as powerful as he was, and Marik as defenceless.
"…I was doing it for you." Ryou muttered, and Bakura almost missed it. He let out a huff.
"For me? Please explain yourself my Sire." He growled.
"Exactly that reason." The chained vampire said softly.
"Yes?"
"Because you're my Creation, and I can't let harm come to you."
"You can't let harm come to me?" Bakura asked incredulously. He knew he should probably leave now before his temper got the better of him, but Ryou hadn't spoken properly to him in months. "What do you think all this is doing to me? Hey, Ryou? How do you think it's making me feel when you haven't even called me by my name yet?"
He was met with a silence to his raised voice.
Ryou stared at the carpet. He couldn't honestly answer that- his memories were not as clear as he'd like them.
"Exactly." Bakura hissed. "You know I hate myself for letting this happen to you. But I just don't know what I can do to get you back."
"Why do you all ask for me to be back?" The smaller vampire suddenly asked, his eyes confused. "I'm… here? This is me – I can't…" his voice faltered, and Bakura felt his bad mood evaporating by the second "…I can't remember anything else."
Ryou seemed to change from then.
He was as distant, but docile as ever. He would quietly help Bakura with all of the tasks that needed doing around the house. Sit silently with Malik as he watched TV or play music too loudly to dance to. Bakura got the biggest shock when he came downstairs one morning (this was after he'd decided that Ryou was being calm enough not to sleep chained to him) to find the small vampire himself, cooking bacon in a pan over the stove.
"Good… Morning." He said carefully, and his Sire turned to him.
"Hello." Ryou said quietly, turning back to the cooking.
Bakura moved to sit on the thick wooden dining table they had in the kitchen, absentmindedly scratching his back under his wings. He hardly ever wore a shirt these days, and Ryou and Malik joined him in that. Ryou kept cooking, leaving the meat for a moment to get out some bread, butter and a plate. He spread the butter onto the bread and carefully picked the bacon out of the pan with his fingers, wincing as the hot oil burned him. Bakura slid off the table and grabbed a spatula.
"You can use this." He said, sliding the implement under the other slice of bacon and transferring it to the bread.
Ryou watched him, his body already healing his blistered fingertips.
"Thank you." He said absently.
He picked up the other slice of bread and put it on top, cutting the sandwich down the middle with a sharp knife.
At that moment, Marik appeared in the kitchen, dressed ready for work.
"Hey," he said, surprised to see Bakura up so early. He walked over to the smell of cooking.
Ryou picked up the plate and stepped forwards.
"I made this for you… Marik." He said. His eyes were tentative.
The human gave him a genuine smile.
"Thank you Ryou – a little better than you first attempt I think." He said, his tone light.
"Yes…" The small vampire replied, not having the slightest clue what he meant.
Had he ever made him food before? Not that he could recall…
They all sat around the table, Marik eating, Bakura talking with him, and Ryou supplying the odd one-word answer to only direct questions.
No matter how hard they tried, the tension just would not leave them.
It is ironic, I suppose, that my real name is Duke.
King had smiled at me from behind his swathe of cigar smoke at that particular revelation. He had asked whether I wanted to be part of his family, his court.
I, of course, for the sake of amusement, interest, and something to do with my long life said yes. So I was named Viscount. I was to be his personal assassin.
The matter of personal interest I had in King may have also had a factor in my decision to choose this part of my life.
I didn't work my way up from the bottom, like Count. An orphan and an ass kisser, that's how he got where he is today, at King's right hand side.
I'm not jealous, don't get me wrong, it's just I suppose in my years I have grown tired of relying on others to help me. I'm very much independent, and wouldn't have it any other way. Though King is of special interest to me, and has been for longer than his own lifetime.
I'd be in the background, attending meetings with them all, sometimes not even seated at that big round table in King's halls. I was glad I was there for the time Minstrel lost his temper and mauled that good-for-nothing supplier. Seeing his strength unleashed but restricted all at once made for interesting viewing… The lumps under the skin of my back seemed to ache all the more with longing. That, unfortunately, made me feel all the more disgusted with myself and what I am.
Having those foreign, horrible things removed was probably one of the best moments of my new life. It cost me a pint of blood, but it was worth it, plus the human who had the pleasure was completely terrified of me. The pint was not missed much by me, but to this man, its healing properties from my mutated blood cells would be worth a lot of money.
Every now and again they try and re-grow. I think that sawing through the bone of where the black wings joined my real skin first time around shocked my body a bit. Nevertheless, snapping off the new, flimsy limbs that grow is never a pleasant experience. Until that time, I have those obscene lumps under the skin of my back.
And for those infernally sharp teeth? I use a metal file to wear them down every morning to the normal, human level. The nerves always scream at me in pain as I grind through them, but I do not care, it's worth it.
I remember first talking to King, about his desire to obtain a vampire. I almost laughed aloud, but contained myself, simply raising an eyebrow. He spoke of wanting something to be not only a pet, but of use too – such things as lions and tigers bored him – they were too conventional. The word "pet" stung me a little. But only a little, for being created as I was, not of free will, I realise that those like me are entirely unconventional, and do not deserve to be of increased numbers. So it was that he had his men track down some dealers, and research to be undertaken into the cost. At the talk of cost, I'm afraid to admit I did chuckle a little:
'Is everything alright, Viscount?' He asked, coolly, looking up from his talks with Count.
'Yes… Of course, King. I was simply…' I glanced away for a moment, studying the fire from my place in one of the armchairs that were in the shadows. 'I was just wondering what the extent was to which you thought these creatures shared our… Human attributes?'
He studied me carefully before replying.
'I believe them to be very much human-like,' he said, 'Of course they are derived from our race, so must be somewhat like us.' I nodded once. 'But then again, a butterfly comes from a cocoon, as some say a phoenix out of the ashes… And they are entirely different things. So I expect that we will find out when it arrives.'
'I see Sir.'
King let his mouth curl into a smirk.
'Please, Viscount,' he said, his voice mocking. 'Do not let me think you're too interested in this animal's welfare? How human it could be?' He let out a short laugh. 'Even if it does turn out to be more human than I believe… Man has traded slaves over thousands of years. This will be no different.'
The conversation was over. I was interested in his views, but it did not change my own, moreover re-enforced them.
After that, he gave me an assignment that sent me away for a couple of weeks. An assassin is an easy job for someone such as me. And it has its positive points in that I can drain those I kill of their blood, keeping it for when my un-Godly desires overtake me. Of course, such measures call for the proper disposing of the body – a weight attached to the corpse and a quick trip to the ocean always served well. And as for the victims King wanted to give a bit more of a theatrical end to? Pigs' blood could be the substitute.
I think I'll cover my history now, if you're interested.
I was the object of admiration of the vampire that turned me into this creature of nightmares. I was the clerk to a Knight in Wessex, who was the owner of a large estate in medieval England that spread to the borders of Cornwall. My life was uneventful, I was young and did not know of the rest of the world past this land. I did not care for it much, for I had all that I needed. I was to marry the daughter of the local yeoman, and had a martial home to live in.
Then there was a traveller, a gypsy woman, who moved from place to place claiming to heal. The strange thing was, for all of the superstition and deceit that surrounds such old crones, her potions worked. Every time. There was no ill that she could not heal, and people came from far and wide, using their pitiful family savings to buy her miracle cure.
On my way home from the tavern one night, a strange thing happened. I had to travel up a lane towards my overseer's house, and about a quarter-of-a-mile up this leafy track stood the traveller's caravan. I knew she would not be in, for she and her daughter were at the inn, enjoying a hearty supper of lamb stew and herbs. As I passed the rickety old thing, I noticed lights in the windows and heard a sudden crash from inside. Startled, I paused, wondering what could have made such a noise. Could this be a thief, attempting to steal her potions? Even in such a state of disbelief as I was to her credibility, I could not go by without seeing the scoundrel off.
In a few quick paces, I had reached the wooden door, which was slightly ajar. I placed my hand on the wood and pushed abruptly, throwing the door open.
The girl inside gasped, and whipped around, her black hair fluttering through the air. I stood paralysed, for on her back were two great limbs like that of a blackbird, her faded dress coming off her shoulder and ragged around the knee.
'What are you doing here?' She asked in a scared tone, turning her back from me.
'I was curious-' I replied, my voice stronger than I thought my confusion would allow me – 'The owner of this caravan and her daughter are dining at the inn, and I was investigating as to who would be in their home.'
'Please, Sir, I am also her daughter.' She looked down respectfully, but I knew she was afraid. 'You must… You must leave now. Please do not tell of your seeing me.'
'Why ever not? You are her flesh and blood, what shame have you? I assume those creations on your back are a form of foolery- a dressing up game?'
When she was silent, I became more confused than ever.
She later confessed to me what she was, but not before I had latched on in interest. I had visited her intermittently for the next two weeks on my way home from the inn. It was on about our fourth meeting that Ishizu told me what she really was. I did not believe her at first, and raged at her for the Devil's words that she spoke – vampires did not exist, and she was not one. But then, once I'd calmed down a little, she let me touch those wings of hers. They were real, but I was not too satisfied with her being a creature of shadows.
Of course I couldn't resist going back to see her. It was a morbid fascination that drew me to her. I could tell that she was happy for the company, and her displeasure at the knowledge of my future wife was also apparent. When she told me that her blood was actually the active ingredient in her mother's medicine, I once again became angry.
It was an imitation of Jesus' healing blood, and was the work of Satan. She told me that she could not help it; her mother kept her prisoner, for where else in the world was she to go? Once again, she helped calm me, her green eyes patient. At this moment I feared (correctly) that she liked me more than was necessary. So I tried to end our meetings.
She would not cooperate at all. I think you can guess how it ended.
Unfortunately it was on my wedding day, a month after Ishizu, her mother and sister had left. She had flown, she told me just before she attacked, that she had broken her bonds and flown all night to see me. She told me she loved me, and that we should run away together.
I could not grant her that, and when that flicker of realisation twitched in her eye, she took my humanity from me against my will. The love of my life was left in the church, waiting for me to marry her, as I was taken away.
She was the first being I ever killed.
So enraged was I that when I awoke from the cursed slumber, I had to do away with her life. How could she have done this to me? It was all a blur. I hardly remember much, until I was sitting in the middle of the now blood-spattered room in a far away inn, with her black-haired head cradled in my arms, ripped from her battered body.
I managed to make my way back to the village where I had lived, in disguise. I hated my new form passionately. My once wife-to-be had been disgraced by my abandonment, and without my support could end up in the poor house. I found out where the gypsy woman was heading, and followed, surreptitiously through the country.
With the loss of her magical daughter, the old crone soon set up a permanent residence in a cheap rented room just outside London. I followed the daughter through her life, and many generations thus.
It was interesting how her descendants had turned out.
King had inherited the lust for money that had been apparent those hundreds of years before.
I was quite disconcerted by King's treatment of Minstrel.
The vampire was, and continued to be, almost completely feral. The way he was shown off in the cage, with no option but to tear those unfortunate men to pieces. His eyes grew darker as his time with us progressed. When he was away for those few weeks, King was very visibly distressed. I wondered at this, perhaps he had found him to be more human than previously thought? I knew, for my senses told me so during long talks with the descendant of my maker, that he did not love the vampire, but he was much attached.
I must say I did react with anger when I found out King had let the skinny little thing be used in the most foul of ways.
It was the closest we'd come to an argument. I noticed Minstrel's eyes become empty after that. It wasn't helped by the regular talks King had with him, as I sometimes sat in the room within the shadows; his psychological manipulation is probably the best I've ever seen of a human.
So now I believe King's dead… The messy wounds were still glistening on his neck as I went into the room, almost as soon as Minstrel and his lovers left. I did not feel much...
Then suddenly a little flickering of anger. King did not have any siblings, and his parents were long dead. This was the line in which the blood of my Sire was the strongest. I always made sure to follow the line of the family in which I could sense the strongest resemblance to my creator.
And, in a moment of revenge, this human was lying here as though dead.
My anger came not at his untimely demise, but at the sudden loss I felt with this severed link with my past and my human life.
The loss of connection, in this way, with my only love, and fiancée whom I abandoned.
I took a deep breath to steady myself, allowing the anger to spread. I frowned suddenly; taking a closer look at the human's wound… My eyes saw something, but my brain must be still fogged by anger…? The question is, as always with the unpredictability of life, is what to decide to do next.
Marik woke with a start to a finger pressed to his lips.
The curtainless windows allowed a stream of moonlight to fall across the shadowy pale face looking down at him. Silently, Ryou gave him a secretive smile.
The slender finger moved from his lips and went to cup his bronzed jaw, under the covers a long leg slid over the tanned one. Marik let his right arm come up to wrap around the thin waist loosely, eyes locked with the russet pair.
The human couldn't help his breath catch as Ryou leant his face down and kissed his lips softly.
It was for the first time in over half a year.
Completely forgetting his fear of the vampire, he let the smaller male deepen the kiss, reaching up to tangle tanned fingers in his white hair, feeling the other's thigh press between his legs, sparking pleasure. Ryou traced small kisses from his mouth, covering his cheeks, closed eyes, forehead… Soon he was back to Marik's pliant lips, tongues brushing intermittently.
Ryou broke the kiss once more, reaching up to wrap his fingers around the human's wrist. He again led his lips from Marik's coming down to his bronzed neck.
The vampire's hand over his mouth stifled the gasp of pain, but he could do nothing to stop Marik's sudden thrashing at the fangs that abruptly buried deep into his skin.
Quickly, quickly! Ryou forced himself to draw out the blood faster then he ever had before, the beautiful taste encasing his senses, his grip on Marik so very strong…
"Ryou…?" Malik groggily rolled over at the movements. His eyes widened, "No! Ryou no!"
He sprang up, grasping the snowy hair and trying to drag his face away.
Bakura had woken too, and growled grasping his Sire's arms and struggling with him, finally yanking his vice-like grasp off Marik, who was suddenly still on the mattress.
Malik desperately straddled the human, bending down to clamp his mouth over the wound that was letting blood bloom on the pale bed sheets like deathly roses.
He made a cut in his wrist and held it to the motionless human's lips, working to patch up his lover's skin.
"For fuck's sake Ryou!" Bakura shouted, throwing the small creature onto the floorboards, where he immediately scrambled to get to his feet and towards the door. "I thought I'd made it damn clear not to touch that human!"
The furious demon grabbed the escaping vampire's arm and hurled him onto the floor once again, the smaller ripping Bakura's cheek with his fingernails as he clawed the air. In retaliation, Bakura kicked out hard, knocking the other away. Ryou lat out a small yelp of pain, but stumbled to his feet, lunging at his creation with a snarl. The larger was ready, and with a furious strike, his deflected his Sire. The thin vampire was knocked flying into the fireplace, his white head hitting the hard marble mantelpiece with a sickening crack.
The small pale creature crumpled gracelessly onto the floor.
He did not move. His black wings were spread awkwardly beneath his limp body.
More deathly roses grew and bloomed crimson from the snow-white hair.
To be continued..
Don't kill me because of that mean cliffy! I hope you enjoyed it..
Thank you for reading, please review!
Much love,
Scarlett.x