Chapter 10
A Living Hell

Bakura had managed to stop coughing and walk to his aunts' house. He was standing on the porch in front of the door when he came out of his daze and realized what had happened was real and was really going to affect his life. Who would support him? Who would shelter him? Sure, there were some good things but his life was going to change, and by the look of things, for the worse.

Bakura reached out to turn the doorknob but it started turning by itself. The door opened and who should be standing there but Yami Bakura. His dark eyes flared angrily. "Where have you been?!" He growled deeply.

Bakura looked up into his Yami's face and quickly down at his own feet. "Aunty took me to the hospital..."

"Hospital?" Yami Bakura's voice was still in a deep growl. "Did they do that to you? Or was it that bitch of an aunt that you have?" He pointed at a few of the many bloody cuts on Bakura's body. Some of them even had glass sticking out of them.

"No," Bakura said quietly, "I was in a car accident with a train. I managed to live but I don't think Aunty did...I pulled her out before the car exploded, but I think she was already dead..."

"The bitch is dead? Good. Now come inside and get your stuff." Yami Bakura grabbed Bakura's arm and pulled him into the house. Yami Bakura closed the door and looked at Bakura who was dripping in blood. "You know what? Go take a bath and wash all that blood off. Then you get your stuff."

Bakura was confused but did as he was told. He sat in the bath and pondered. 'There's something different about him. I can't exactly figure out what it is though. I know he can come out of the ring...but this time it seems strange. I think I found it was strange when he grabbed my arm. It's different for when he usually does it. He always grabs my arm that way but...but...he was...warm to the touch. That's it! He was always as cold as death until today when his hand was warm. And he just doesn't seem like a sprit anymore. Could he have gained a body of his own? But how? And if he does he doesn't need me as a host body anymore...what is he planning to do to me?'

Yami Bakura shoved a loaf of bread into Bakura's empty school backpack along with an assortment of nonperishable items and other necessities. He entered Bakura's aunts' room and rummaged through her drawers. He found money in a drawer, took it, and left.

Bakura went into his 'room' in the basement and saw Yami Bakura looking through his stuff. Yami Bakura turned around, holding a pair of Bakura's pants and a clean shirt, possibly Bakura's only clean shirt.

Bakura looked at Yami Bakura puzzled.

"Finally...now get your things and we can get the hell outta here." Yami Bakura chucked the clothing into the bag and went upstairs.

Bakura looked into the backpack, seeing all of its goods. He then looked around the room, in wonder of what he should take. There wasn't much he had so he just threw a pencil and his journal into the backpack and headed upstairs with it.

Yami Bakura was waiting for him by the door. "You certainly took your sweet time!" He said, clamping his hand firmly around Bakura's left upper arm. Yami Bakura dragged Bakura out the door quickly and began to run as soon as he got to the street.

Bakura stumbled along behind Yami Bakura, who was practically dragging him. Bakura felt the backpack bounce against his back, hurting him more and more; for a few of those glass shards had been lodged in his back and the backpack was beating them deeper into his flesh.

Yami Bakura had probably dragged Bakura about a quarter of a mile before they stopped. They stopped in an alleyway between two buildings. A dumpster sat in between the two buildings. Yami Bakura pushed it to one side so that there was a small walkway to get behind the dumpster. Behind the dumpster was a high fence.

"We are going to stay here." Yami Bakura said. "Now...as for those pieces of glass in your skin..." Yami Bakura pushed Bakura behind the dumpster and stripped him down to his boxers.

Bakura looked down at himself. He really was a mess. There were pieces of glass sticking out of his skin almost everywhere.

Yami Bakura pushed Bakura against the brick sides of one of the buildings, which didn't help with the glass in Bakura's back. Yami Bakura pinned Bakura to the wall, his hand around Bakura's slender neck.

Bakura didn't want to know how Yami Bakura was planning to extract all those pieces of glass from his skin, but he had no choice in the matter. Yami Bakura was a lot bigger and stronger than Bakura and would easily catch him if he ever tried to escape.

Yami Bakura slid his free hand into his back pocket and pulled out a sharpened pocketknife. He started with Bakura's chest. He dug the sharp knife into one of the glass-infested incisions.

Bakura yelped in pain and squirmed.

"Stop moving! I could slip and pull out your heart instead of that piece of glass..." Yami Bakura hissed. "And be quiet...I don't want you to blow our cover."

Threw all the pain he was in, Bakura managed to stay silent and not move.

Yami Bakura dug away in Bakura's cut searching for the piece of glass. After digging around for a few minuets Yami Bakura managed to get enough of the glass out to pull it out with his fingers.

Little good did it do either of them to pull these glass pieces out of Bakura. It only cause Bakura pain and suffering, along with making the cut bigger and making him loose more blood.

Yami Bakura dug into the next slice of his choice. He again began to search around under Bakura's skin with the sharp blade. Again Yami Bakura was able to retrieve the glass piece, but again, the cut was now twice the size as it was before and was bleeding nonstop.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Yami Bakura was up to the last piece of glass in Bakura, the one, and only one, in Bakura's face.

Yami Bakura slid the blade into Bakura's left cheek and attempted to pull out the shard.

Bakura closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He clasped Yami Bakura's wrist with both of his hands in his agony. He could hear the blood dripping off his body and landing in a large, ever growing, puddle of dark-red liquid. He felt the blade search the interior of his skin on his cheek and it hurt.

Yami Bakura tried for about 10 minuets to get the glass out. He finally got enough of it out to squeeze it out with his fingers.

Yami Bakura let go of Bakura's neck. He reached into the backpack and pulled out a few rolls of much needed gauze along with a washcloth.

Bakura was totally exhausted. His eyes were half closed. His bloody hand was placed against the wall to support himself. He was standing with his knees together and his feet apart. He breathed heavily and his heart raced to make up for his lack of blood. The blood-puddle was almost up to his ankles. His body was washed in the crimson liquid, he was totally sopping with it stuff.

Yami Bakura wetted the washcloth in a little puddle of dirty water that gathered around a clogged drain. He dabbed the wet washcloth against Bakura's wounds.

The water was cold and it stung Bakura, like a hundred wasps stinging his raw skin. Bakura moaned softly as his Yami continued to sting him with the washcloth in an attempt to clean out his injuries.

Yami Bakura threw the bloody watered washcloth to the side and began to wrap Bakura in gauze. He used up all the rolls but managed to cover most of Bakura's cuts.

Bakura could hardly stand, he was so weak. Bakura started to sink down onto his knees. His hand left a bloody smear as it traveled down the wall with him as he slowly fell to his knees. He sat on his knees in the bloody puddle and let his head droop, not strong enough to lift it.

Yami Bakura grabbed a hold of both of Bakura's arms and pulled him over to a dry corner. Yami Bakura's coat was spread out on the ground like a carpet. He sat atop it and pulled Bakura into his lap. Yami Bakura reached into the backpack, which was sitting next to him, and retrieved a blanket, which he draped over Bakura.

Yami Bakura looked at Bakura for a moment. It seemed as if a soft nature came over Yami Bakura's face momentarily, but in an instant, it was gone.

Yami Bakura pulled Bakura closer to him so that he could warm Bakura with his body heat. Yami Bakura rested Bakura's head on his chest and wrapped his arms around the bleeding boy.

By the way Bakura was breathing, Yami Bakura knew that Bakura was asleep. Yami Bakura looked up in the sky for a while, but he soon dozed off too.