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Twisted Engine

"It's time to Wake Up!"

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Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh does not belong to me, it is never going to be mine and if it were then we'd get the anime right from Japan and not 4 Kids XP

No suing me, though it might seem fun, you'd only wind up with huge lawyer bills and an empty Fanta bottle (Zesty Berry Flavour) for your troubles. XD

Okay! From people who have read this and people I have spoke to, I can see we are all very confused, SO! YYC will make it better! After this chapter I will take a break from writing the next chapter and write an "info page" on the other character in this Yaoi. Those of you that do know who "HE" is might be a little confused on how I'm using him in this story, that will also be explained.

So if you're having trouble seeing where I'm coming from (Which is part of the character's portrayal I might add) then check out the INFORMATION PAGE coming up after this chapter ;) I'll tell you everything I know and how I'm using it to fit this character in to my story!!

Well! Now that is cleared up there's only one thing to say!

Yami: It's time to duel?

YYC: - NO!

******************************On to Da Ficcie!********************************

Lightning danced in the sky like a stallion, charging over thick black clouds. Rain pelted the windows softly, like nails lightly tapping, thunder echoed like a distant horn. But it was a cosy little storm and one that made Seto Kaiba feel almost at peace in he couldn't sleep, not now, not after that dream. He sat, sheets draped and twisted around his legs, his breathing soft in the black silence of his bedroom. It felt strange almost eerie in his room the silence was like a winding buzz in his ears, blood rushed, he closed his eyes and softly groaned the world felt heavy all around him maybe he was starting to feel tired once again? He went to lay back down, feeling the pillow move under him as he wriggled back down but as his eyes closed it flashed back in to his mind. The blackness sweeping that feeling of running with nowhere to go, trapped his eyes snapped back open instantly his body tensed. He resumed sitting and rubbed his forehead, he couldn't go on, not like this these dreams would ruin everything if he let them. A lack of sleep for him was like asking for trouble, he couldn't afford it, he walked to the medicine cabinet in his bathroom and took two sleeping pills, if that didn't kick him in to sleep then nothing would. He laid back on the bed his head swimming, dizzy, maybe those pills were a little too good? He didn't care and happily settled in to a warm doze.

Sitting in a black leather armchair he looked out at the sky, a black sky, clouds thickly hung like masses of cotton wool. He sat there, brooding, some might have called it sulking but he didn't care what "some" might say. He closed his eyes slightly, willing them to change colour, to their normal old colour, it had reminded him much of that bastard Seto Kaiba but then he realised they were really the same age and that so they were as much his eye colour as that bastard. He wanted his results, he wanted to see that his plan was going under way he had to know that soon Seto Kaiba would suffer at the hands of a REAL Kaiba! That would be his greatest achievement, his eyes turned to their normal deep blue, a perfect mirroring of Seto's own blue his hair was different to Seto's, Jade green in the light of dusk and more sea green in the brilliance of the sun. Though in his virtual paradise he was but of 12 Years old, mentally he was 17 now and once he was out of this elaborate cage of the mind he would be in a body more suited to his age. More suited to revenge. Seto would suffer. There was no other justice that would be as sweet he smirked to himself and looked in a mirror, full body, a hologram stared back at him, in his perfect white Chinese suit with it's gold embroidery and it's silken fabric. Yes. He spoilt himself. No father to do it for him so he had to just go out and indulge in his own desires. Of course. It wasn't enough to just think and let something false appear it may have felt as real as it would in "their world" but it wasn't. This was his mind, playing a trick or more living a lie with him. He was immersed in his own little universe, left to rot like a piece of neglected meat what made this fact all the more twisted was that his own father left him, sunk him. Like he was some… some disgrace. He didn't think he was that bad surely? Yes he did want to wipe out all of mankind and start over and yes he was as good. No. Better than God. But that didn't make him a disgrace, did it? He snorted once more at his musings, like it mattered but all he had now was his musings. No one came to talk to him any longer. Not unless it was that Digital Slave who only knew about 5 sentences "Yes Sir" "Sorry Sir" "Hello Sir" "May I help you Sir?" "What is your wish Sir?" he puffed. How boring this world was. How simplistic and boring he yearned to be out there out in the "mortal realm" sometimes he took pictures from websites had a look. At the latest place to go "sun" yourself or the best place to ski and bungee. Sure he didn't give a flying fuck about that kind of stuff but still it was the images, the sights he could almost smell things and touch things it was so close. But yet. It was also so far. There was a song like that, wasn't there? So close and yet so far from Paradise. Yes. He remembered his mother listened to that. Strange. He could remember little things, almost stupid little things, he snorted why did such little things matter in his life? It's the little things that make up life my little Love his mother had told him, smiling sweetly, like a sunbeam. Her hair he could remember her hair. Long, a rich honey golden colour, it often made him wonder how he wound up with the hair he did have? His father used to laugh at him and say he had used bright green paint on himself. He had tears to cry then, when his father put him down, made him feel smaller than the little buttons on his suit. He remembered when his father would make him sit with him and his business colleagues and he would laugh about his son in front of them. What he remembered most about such meetings was fumbling and toying with the shinny gold buttons on his navy suit, he had to wear navy in the meetings, he couldn't stick out any more with a white suit than he already did with his hair. Or that's what father said.

He remembered times when he would just bury himself in his mothers arms and weep until he trembled and made long jerky breaths, eyes puffy, rimmed red and nose dribbling. He hated that side, the weak tearful him, that's why he got rid of it. It died in that cage of flesh like his soul and his conscience. He could hear his mother's words.. My lovely little Noa. You should never take your fathers words to heart. I love you my little one. … Noa… yes that's what they called him, when he was alive "Noa" he whispered softly, rolling it off his tongue, like it were some foreign language that he had never seen before but was reading from some kind of Phonetic text. "Noa." He mused again, like a child getting the hang of ridding a bike. Sounded weird to his ears, his voice, his name it was strange and out of place in his world of white silence. All of it was alien from him he closed his eyes and barked a laugh why should it matter? It hadn't for years, 4 to be exact.

He noticed it in the morning. Seto rose an eyebrow; his whole board of Executives were being so … "nice" it freaked him out. Normally they did everything with a scowl but today they seemed dare he jinx it happy? To help? He shivered inside it just stank of a rat, something had to be wrong here, why the hell were those old men still working for him anyway? He hadn't had the time recently to fire them, now might be a good time he decided to himself as he sat in a conference with them the Big Five. Old men, skin dry and old, worn like desert floors, cracked and desperate to escape more weathering. He could see dark bags under their eyes; they had been working long and tirelessly all their lives. Like his "father" had told him to be, work hard, there is no time for rest and that games were stupid. He closed his eyes, something inside him flinched. No. He would not relive it.. not again he wanted to leave the past behind him he didn't even believe in looking at the past, eyes always ahead, looking back was for people who regretted. Did he regret? No. He couldn't. He would have too many regrets if he did so stopped himself, he would have none. "Kaiba-San?" murmured one of the deep gruff voices of the executives. Seto looked up with deep blue eyes that were lost in his own musings but now were turned back to the work at hand The meeting was long, dull and in the end it wound up to be absolutely worthless to everyone, none of the Big Five could make up their minds as to what they should focus on. So eventually Seto rose, informing the group that they were "Wasting his time" and that "He had FAR more important things to be doing." Like Mokuba's school trip arrangements and work that was far more productive than bantering back and forth about model design or input specification etc. He rose rigid from sitting in a bored slouch for a few hours, turning sharply to the door and opening it, he turned his icy glare back to the Five and growled "I expect a decision to have been made today and I expect RESULTS soon." He then turned and left, the door slammed with a loud 'THWACK' the five flinched.

"Spoilt brat."

"Yes. He is indeed. He will get what he deserves." There was a grunt and nod from the group; it was true they felt humiliated. Degraded. A mere CHILD of 17 had managed to totally and utterly outsmart all of them, on more than one subject and several occasions. In business deals. In their own cleverly orchestrated plans. Even in matters they prided themselves on. It was an offence and insult to be bested in such ways. Another realisation struck, they were most definitely expendable if he was able to cope with everything, an obvious statement but one that like a sudden cut –takes time for the pain to seep like the blood– they sneered. It wasn't like they were going anywhere. Not with their young master in control. He too was 17 now, just as clever as Seto but FAR more dark. He was evil. Twisted. Scary. They were scared yes but they were not worried. Noa, though clever and dangerous, was merely young they figured he could be tamed. Maybe even controlled then they would assume total power over the Kaiba Corporation and all of the money and technology there in. They filed out, the plan had to commence soon or else they would lose their prestigious position and with it their masters plan would be gone. They would pay for that. He was locked away, yes, but he had influences and abilities that even they knew to display caution against.

Fingers drum against a smooth mahogany surface. His eyes look down at the dark wood, he looked at all the grooves in the wood, the deep chocolate, near black colouring. It felt silken, smooth like stiff velvet, it ran against his fingers slick over it. Just imagining what it might really feel like. Cool. Hard. Silky. He laughed he only guessed it had been so long his mind was rusty, it was like an opaque memory, glazed and hazed. He could remember how things were in a big scheme but it was those little things… the important things that passed him by. His hand instantly clenched as he thought, how annoying, in his paradise all he could do that was real was think. Even that seemed like a chilling elaborate fantasy. Thinking. Dreaming. Existing. It was all an illusion. A mere yearning. He laughed loudly at himself he was amusing, he couldn't help it he would laugh or he would hurt something, then he laughed harder, wilder, twisted. What was there to hurt? Himself? That was just silly. He would not hurt himself. He would hurt….. Seto Kaiba that fool could pay. For what he did. For his pain. He would make sure that he soothed his own raging mind with the pain he would inflict on Seto. He could envision it, hurting him, he could see blood, thick and red on his own hands, Seto's blood. But that. He sneered and muttered "That is too easy."

He rose from the side, fingers trailing slowly from the side of mahogany he then left the room and walked down a dim hallway, even in darkness he could see, even in the pitch black his sight was keener than any mortal he might have been mortal once. But now. He was more he smirked and entered his study "Only a matter of time" he whispered to the air, like it were listening. Like someone cared. Cared? He didn't really give a damn if 'they' cared or not. People. Mortals. Like it ever mattered what ordinary people felt. Thought. Wished for. They never changed much. It was the clever few. The insane few. The powerful few, they made the choices "Live by example" he could hear his fathers voice "Learn from the strong." "Be like the strong." He was strong. He knew he was, he smirked to himself, Seto would pay.

The day passed on, like a sweep of a cloak. Seto was ready to leave; he stalked down to the conference room and looked at the group of stiff old businessmen. His Blue Eyes spoke before he even needed to part his lips they knew exactly what he would say, even as he said it in a soft voice "I expect your answer or you're all fired."

They outlined their proposal to him and he nodded in agreement, seeming to like it, working it out in his mind, coming up with pictures, ideas it all seemed to fit. Of course he would need to modify it and tamper with the format to suit him, but at least it was done. He could get on with his work now. He turned sharply on his heel, no thank you gentlemen or I appreciate it, because they should have done it ages ago. They all knew that. But their minds were else where, there was more that was important now than Seto Kaiba and his Corporation because soon it would not be his and this 17 year old Genius would be gone. Forgotten. Scratched from the books, never to be remembered. They smirked.

Seto returned home and flopped before the TV to watch the News, Mokuba hopped up next to him and gave him a hug, he could see it in his brother's eyes. Seto was tired. He was really pushing himself too far these past few weeks, maybe it was the sudden pull from the magical and mystical? Maybe he needed to occupy himself? But he always worked himself to the bone, Mokuba was sure that one day Seto would be nothing more than a skeleton, still forcing himself to work. He awoke early, left 10 minutes after he woke, and then didn't return until late. Usually 8:00-9:00 PM. It upset Mokuba but he didn't know what to say to his Big Brother. Sure he'd hinted it so many times, picking up on the slight blackness around his brothers' eyes or the way he slouched in his chair, practically using his dinner as a pillow. There were so many opportunities to pick up on, but Seto didn't seem to let these comments even register, they just brushed him by. Mokuba had tried before to say "Stop working so hard Ni-Sama!" but the response he got was "This is all for you little brother, I want to make sure your future is bright. I know you worry but don't. I am fine. I always have and will be.". At first Mokuba had taken it that this over-worked Seto was his fault. But he knew now that Seto never meant it that way.

Seto was now half dozing on the chair, another missed dinner, Mokuba had already eaten, there was always something for him to put in the microwave when he got home and felt hungry. Seto was so good about caring for him. But when it came to Seto's own health. He just neglected himself like feeding fish in a bowl, people just forget to do it, or like calling someone back when they leave a message. It was like his own body was just something to use and not to care for. Mokuba sighed and put a blanket over his now asleep big brother. "… I wish you wouldn't do this…. To yourself Ni-Sama." Mokuba softly whispered as he propped Seto's head with a pillow then turned to Cartoon Network to watch something lighter than the mood he felt now.

It was strange, macabre some might say, horrid, disturbing all those words to describe what mortals could not accepts or understand. Laying on a table of bright cold silver was a body, slightly blue in tint now, cold. The body looked like a broken robot in some sci-fi movie or an episode of ER, connected to machines, wires, cables, charts were stuck to the walls, guidelines of the human body. The figure on the table, totally still, cold frozen, dead was not alone in the room, around this body there were the Big Five all looking down at it, no idea of how it came to be. How it got to them. But they didn't care. It was perfect there was a smirk and nod all round. They looked down on the body; Skin that would have been the pale white-peach of milkweed were it not tinted a light blue, the blue of icy glaciers, the skin however was soft, not old or flaking, not like fishes scales like it should have been, it had been kept frozen for so long now there should have been some form of blemish. Although. It wasn't that actual frozen body. It was the DNA from that froze body, so in fact it was a copy, so it could still be flawless. The legs were slender, sleek like cats, torso though young was turning toned slight indents of the skin, markings like a painting accented the forming muscle. The pectorals were those of a young 17 year olds body, so the muscle was scant, this body had yet to be inhabited so there was no weathering, or working on it. The body was a pale hue of cream-y peach, gaunt almost, that is how one would look who had never seen the sun, like a ghost or a vampire from some sordid horror movie. Arms were delicate, long and slender like an adolescence's, but with a few forming patches of tight flesh, a strong sleek body, with a purpose. The face was what most may have called beautiful, the eyes were closed, the skin was pure, without blemish or mark, the chin was a perfect rounded point at the end of the face, it didn't jut out like a bent curving mass, wasn't too pointed and didn't look too round, it was "accurate." The cheeks had a slight rounded charm to them, even if the cheek bones were a little high, the nose was slender, almost feminine a thin bridge, with a subtle base. The eyebrows were like a pair of light marks with a pencil, quick, accented with small light Sea Green hairs making the line. Just dipping to the bodies nose, like a sharp triangle of light mint-jade hair, was a fringe. The hair was emphasised, lines, sharp angles, mimicking the hair of another, the hair of Seto Kaiba.

"Master." There was some brief typing; the Big Five were logging in to a terminal that sat flashing and beeping in a corner, spilling out statistics like topical conversation.

"What?!" was the acid reply, the voice of one impatient to be freed, hungry to return.

"We have completed your body."

"you have?!" the tone was interested now, they could almost feel him cocking an eyebrow up in interest. "Well? How is it? Have you made all the necessary scans and checks?"

"Yes Master, we are confident of its design"

"Good. Then make sure it is up for testing tomorrow, thaw it out this eve"

"Yes sir"

Humid and wet, a tropical storm, not because the world around him needed it but just because he felt broody, methodical. Nothing in this world he dreamed needed sustenance, it lived off of him, almost leach like but it was a pretty leach an elaborate intricate amazing leach. So maybe it was allowed to live off him? He smirked; those fools in his business were done making his body, his new 17-year-old body. It had taken them long enough, years of messing about with "format" and "Biological data" he snorted if they had only asked him right away for the answer then Kaiba corp. would have been his long ago. But. Humans are humans. Pride personified, never asking for anything near "help" or "Assistance" not that he cared, that only made crushing them all the more fun and creating a new race all the more important. Mortals were weak. Humans are too "Free" almost "Rebellious" never accepting anything. Arguing every point made. Every idea thrown out. Challenging all that comes before them. An annoying trait at best.

He laughed and stood, they body was ready, with it all his plans this was an awaited event. The moment all his years of twisted anger, violent dreams of revenge and bloody ideals were to come together. He would reshape this world. It would be his world. The world would recognise him as a saviour they would bow to him. God. Not just a God but The God. He smirked and walked in to the study again, sitting in a chair similar to a dentist's chair, but covered in wires. Metallic chords snaked from one part of the chair to another, thick, brightly coloured wires, like several umbilical cords moved from the chair to a computer terminal. It was like a futuristic womb. He moved to the chair, sat in it, closing his deep blue eyes he felt cords, like snakes moving to curl around his illusion of a body he only existed in his mind, did that make him solid? He didn't actually know.

He could feel something, a tingling, electric like white fire it made his head swim, feelings of dizziness and pain seemed to swirl and dance together. A bad combination, then the feeling of leaving, again he had died and left his cage of flesh once. Now he was to be reborn was that the right word for this? Reborn? He wasn't been brought back through magic; this was a man-made effort. Man-made Rebirth. That was better. He felt like he was floating, not really in his mind, not really part of the world he aimed to enter, he was in between. Limbo That was what it was called being between life and death, wasn't it? Or was that between Heaven and Hell? No. That would make Earth itself Limbo.. a fitting title for such a place. But yet not true, for if Earth was limbo then why did those supposed good people have to Suffer there so that was the argument against Earth being limbo. And yet. He believed that it was. After all it was a place that people lingered in it, their voices an echo of the past, still lingering like broken records, like distant howls. Role Models that was what he spoke of. Those people that still carried on through earth even if they were rotted and dead in coffins. They lingered like a scent or a sound, an after math. He sneered such thoughts were trivial, whether he was entering Limbo or Hell or Earth or Heaven was irrelevant. He would still achieve his goals. This feeling was starting to cloud him, the rush of being between mind and body, an experience that truly was Out of Body he laughed to himself. Maybe he could write one of those silly books about having a Religious Out of Body Experience lots of people claimed they had. How many of them were actually right? How many were hooked on a ton of drugs in a hospital room? – Okay. He needed to stop these half-bait thoughts. They were starting to rot him. The sensation moved on from floating to a feeling of great weight, almost crushing, his chest heaved with fake breaths of shock at the sensation of being pushed down, or was this being pulled? Whatever it was it felt horrid this was another thing to make Seto pay for, the journey to his revenge. He opened his eyes, finally, he had kept them closed what he saw was nothing short of spectacular. Amazing maybe. Blackness for miles, as far as his eyes could gaze, a pitch black and yet. In the midst of all this darkness there was colours, occasional, random swirls of colour. Not normal colours but unearthly colours like twilight blue, colour mortals longed to capture in all their ferocity and yet failed. The kinds of colours that none could capture exactly. Not even memorise, like luminous green, not fluorescent but electric green that kind of green that sparkled with vibrancy. The colours danced, twirling and swirling like animals in flight, graceful pleasurable to watch.

Suddenly they burst, like an explosion of a star, a great wave of twinkling particles of light the specks of blue and green and deep violet all seemed to collect and swirl in to the blackness, it was then. In that moment. That black turned to whiteness and he felt sick. A feeling. A real feeling could he be? Alive?

The fingers of that once uninhabited body began to twitch, moving, curling, like they were trying to grip. Feeling in those fingers, control the pleasure and powerful rush of control over things as simple as digits on a hand.

He revelled in them, delighted in the feeling of nails on the cold metal of a surgical table top, even the rude brash light that spilt harsh white over him. If he were religious that light may have fooled him to think he was awakening to heaven. But he knew even without opening his eyes where he was.

He was alive………… he was back…………..

END OF CHAPTER 3

Yeeeeaaahhhhh!!! Chapter 3 is AT LAST complete! Please review!!! I need reviews to carry on, I'm really thinking of scraping it, and yet we are so close to the yaoi! In the next chapter things start to get horror-ish and sci-fi ish!

And at last we see that mad bird killer man is Noa Kaiba! Stay tuned because just as I finish this I am starting work on the "Why Noa?" part of this fiction, so you all understand that this is NOT an incest fiction.

I will repeat this again:

I do not do Incest fiction!!!! This is not an Incest story. So before you read that name "Noa Kaiba" don't assume I'm writing about something incest-full because if you read the NEXT SECTION COMING SOON you will UNDERSTAND OKAY?! Good!!!!!!!

SO! Review to see more of this FUNKY Horror Thriller Sci-fi thingie ma jigger ^-^ Mwaahahhahahahahaaa!

So here is the clue for the day: REVIEW!!! REVIEW DAMN IT!!!!

CIAO!

~*YYC*~