WARNING: This chapter contains . . . [Language / Suggestive Narration / Violence]


Edit Update: 1/1/2016

Did some majorly minor editing.


It wasn't until his stomach growled that Bakura realized that they hadn't eaten since last night; and the sun had long since set, making way for the moon to take over the skies. But he didn't stop.

After he had lost what was probably a gallon of his blood from his nosebleed, Bakura had stormed off as Marik ran to catch up. He knew that he should slow down, but he couldn't. If he didn't keep moving, all of his feelings for Marik would erupt like a volcano. Now he regretted making Marik promise him that favor. Why did he do that? It was hard enough keeping himself contained when he thought there was no chance for them to be together. But now that there was a glimmer of hope that their relationship might develop into something more, it was almost impossible to control. It was like directing a teenage boy who had just reached puberty to a porno website before telling him not to look at the barely clad women who posed teasingly on his computer screen. It's just not possible to resist. So why did he make Marik promise?!

"Idiot." Bakura murmured under his breath.

"Bakura!" Marik called out as he struggled to keep up. The mud had hardened, making it difficult to move freely. "Are you trying to be effing Usain Bolt or something?!"

Bakura wished he was effing Usain Bolt. If he was, he could run into the distance, leaving Marik in the dust before he could feel the temptation to turn back around. "Just keep moving."

"But Bakura!" Marik felt Artax nudge his back before the stallion bent down the lower half of his muscled body. At some point during their journey together, the horse had grown to like the Egyptian. Maybe because his only other option was Bakura, who he still held a grudge against. Marik jumped onto Artax's back and rode up to Bakura's side. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

"Piss off." Bakura increased his speed.

But it wasn't fast enough. Artax ran in front of him, blocking the way with the side of his body as he let out a loud snort, and Marik leaned down to look directly into Bakura's eyes. "Stop being such a Grumpy Cat."

"I am not a Grumpy Cat." He tried to get around them, but Artax once again prevented him from advancing down the trail. Bakura felt a strong urge to drive his knife through the horse's chest.

"Is this about the nosebleed?" Marik asked. "Is that what put your panties in a bunch?"

It was obvious that there was no getting away. "Of course not."

"Then out with it." Marik pulled out his Millennium Rod and pointed it at his traveling companion. "Tell me, or I shall rearrange your sock drawer!" He smirked, trying to look intimidating. "I'll mismatch all of your white socks, and it will take you hours to find the right pairs. Your world will be plunged into chaos. Sock related chaos!"

"How dastardly." Bakura said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"I know, right? I'm so evil! I even put Obama to shame!"

Shut up, was what Bakura wanted to say. Whenever Marik got excited and talked about himself - which he did a lot - he held himself with a confidence that no one else could rival. He puffed out his chest like a proud rooster strutting through the hen house, flashing a devious grin. As Bakura stood there, watching the boy marvel at his own brilliance, he could feel all of the memories that weighed him down start to lift off of his shoulders. What was it about Marik that made him feel this way? He was just a stupid villain wannabe who had the IQ of a sea cucumber, and yet Bakura found himself constantly thinking about him. And the fact that he had a smokin' hot body didn't make it any easier.

"Speaking of anchovies,"

"What?" Bakura had blanked out and missed most of Marik's one-sided conversation.

"Bakura! I command you to feed me!"

"Marik, that only works on-"

"Feed me, Bakura!" Artax snorted. "And Artax, yes. But nothing too fattening. He's on a diet."

"He told you that, did he?"

"Why aren't you feeding us, Bakura?"

"If you will just pipe down then I will go and get you something."

"It had better not be another shark! If I wanted to taste that much rubber I would just eat a tire! Which would probably be more appetizing."

"We're in the middle of a bloody jungle, Marik. There aren't any sharks out here."

"Haven't you ever seen Creature?!"

"No, Marik. I have not. And let me guess,"

"Neither have you/I." The two teenagers said in unison.

"Just wait here and I'll get you something." Bakura said as he walked off, happy to have an excuse to leave. If he had stayed a moment longer, he probably would have ripped Marik right off Artax's back before jumping on top of him, letting loose all of his pent up hormones.

Since there was no cold ice-bath in sight, he subdued the urge by concentrating on getting some blood on his hands. His favorite pastime. When he was finished, he had both caught two fish by driving a sharp stick into their scaled bodies and successfully pushed back his feelings for the Egyptian boy. Nothing quite like a fresh kill to fight off lustful imaginings.

"Did you bring me another shark?!" Marik asked gratingly upon seeing the two piranhas that Bakura was carrying.

"Do these look like bloody sharks to you?"

"Just checking."

"Marik." Bakura's eyes widened. "You built a fire."

"What? You didn't expect me to eat it raw, did you?" Marik said as he sat down in front of the flames.

"I mean, you were actually able to build a fire."

"Of course I can build a frigging fire!" Marik's voice spiked and Bakura could tell that he was offended by what he had said. "We didn't have light bulbs when I was a boy in that tomb, you know. So whenever I wanted to read some yao-ahhhh, I mean, my straight pornographic comic books about straight men and women having straight sex with each other, because I'm one hundred percent straight, I had to light torches and read my firelight. And I was so good at it that Dad made me light all of the torches in the tomb every night, which took for-frigging-EVER! And I kept running into Cornelius who Dad said was just asking me to play basketball with him by biting me on the ankle and-"

"Eat!" Bakura demanded as he stuffed one of the piranhas into the boy's mouth.

"It's a step above shark." Marik said as he chewed it before, "Couldn't you have gotten me some churros while you were out?"

Bakura groaned and reached down to grab his own fish, only to discover that it was gone because it had been eaten by an armadillo, who was licking his lips as he rubbed his full stomach. No one eats Bakura's food and lives long enough to digest it.

Bakura grabbed the armored animal by the tail and held him up as he smiled cruelly. "Congratulations. You have just been put on the menu."

"Bakura!" Marik protested. "You can't eat him!"

"Why the bloody hell not?!"

"Because he becomes important to the plot later on in the script."

"Where does it bloody say that?" Bakura pulled out his script from his back pocket and skimmed through it with one hand while still holding onto the armadillo with the other until he found the page that, indeed, did mention the animal in question. He groaned as he let the armadillo go before putting the script away. "Fine, he lives. For now."

The liberated armadillo scampered over to Marik and climbed up, perching himself on the boy's shoulder like a featherless parrot. Now two animals glared at Bakura with pure hatred in their eyes, and he glared back at them.

"What should we name him?" Marik asked as he gave their newest 'pet' a piece of his fish.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to name your food?"

"How about Churro?"

"All that is going to do is make me want to eat him even more."

"Then you should have gotten me some effing churros while you were out getting me some effing food!"

"Whatever." Bakura knew there was no point in arguing. "We should probably hit the sack."

"Sack?" Marik looked around. "What sack? And why would we hit it?"

"I mean, let's go to bed."

"Well why didn't you say so in the first frigging place?!" Marik tried to lay down but almost instantly sat back up again. "There's too much light! How do they expect a guy to sleep out here?" He clapped his hands twice and on command the moon dimmed. After nodding in satisfaction, Marik lay back down.

Bakura opened his mouth to ask him how he did that, but then decided that he didn't want to listen to anymore of Marik's oddball explanations and got ready to go to bed himself. Even though every ounce of him was saying that he should lay down alongside Marik, he ignored it and placed himself a good five feet away. This was for the best. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself as he tried not to shiver as a gust of wind hit him with the force of a tow truck. He turned around and faced Marik, who was snug and cozy next to the fire, his animal friends pressing against him to give the sleeping Egyptian even more heat.

"Bugger."


"So, what are you planning to do with me?" I asked as my kidnappers taped me to a chair. It's amazing how many things you can do with duck tape. "Kill me? Torture me? Force me to watch The Teletubbies?"

"You're going to stay right there," Stacie explained, "until Bakura and Marik get back."

"But what if they never come back?"

"Then I guess you're screwed." Marge answered with a smile.

"Lovely. Hey, wait! Where are you two going?" I looked around the dank basement as they began to head upstairs. "You're not going to leave me here all alone, are you?"

Stacie gave me a look of disinterest as she flipped the light switch, blanketing me in complete darkness before I heard the door close behind them. Things just keep getting better and better.

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?"