Hi. You probably don't know me, so a quick introduction is in order. I'm Morningstar. I started watching Yu-Gi-Oh about a week ago, and promptly became an addict. I know little of the actual plot line, and there are probably glaring mistakes in this story. Feel free to correct me. Now, this may come as a shock, so sit down. Ready? I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

This story is simply a plot of my imagination with borrowed and much-loved characters. That being said, I really hope you enjoy this story and take the time to review. Thank you!

***

A young boy lay in his bed, listening to the nocturnal winds. It was an exceptionally clear night, with the chilled light of the stars and crescent moon coating the landscape, and the light and the furtive winds kept the boy from sleep. He laid perfectly still, his dark hair spilled across his pillow and framing his face. His eyes were wide open, and the light made them shimmer wetly. He was frightened but he didn't know why.

He wasn't frightened of the night, or of being alone in his big room; he wasn't scared of the shadows or the groans of the mansion. He was used to all of these things. If anything, they usually brought comfort in their normality. As far as he could tell, there was no reason to be upset. Unfortunately, that didn't stop the fact that he felt on edge, like a violin string on the verge of snapping, his senses humming from overuse. Worst of all, his mind was stuck on the events of the last few days, so along with the feelings of adrenaline came bad memories.

His brother would tell him he was being silly.

But Seto was probably asleep by now, undisturbed by recent happenings. Being trapped in a virtual world apparently didn't bother Mokuba's big brother. The dark haired boy closed his eyes, remembering how he had run back to KaibaCorp after waking up in the pod and saying goodbye to Yugi and his friends. Mokuba had been worried about Seto, so it was a relief to find that his brother had everything under control in the real world. Apparently, firing his board of directors was therapeutic to the young CEO; he had seemed almost invigorated.

What irritated Mokuba was the fact that Seto seemed unaffected by the ordeal. When he tried to talk about the virtual world, Seto simply brushed him off. Mokuba hated it when his brother was reckless with his own safety; he hated it even more when Seto refused to acknowledge this recklessness.

A wave of fear washed over Mokuba that had nothing to do with the memories. The boy shivered. It felt as if something was watching him, as if something was waiting for him to move. He tried to beat back these irrational feelings, but they quickly took hold to his mind.

"Mokuba."

He gasped, too afraid to wonder if he had only imagined the whispered name. Quickly he threw back his covers and sprinted across his room and into the hallway. Without the windows it was darker, and the feeling of another presence grew stronger. Mokuba barely hesitated before heading to his brother's room.

He didn't bother to knock, instead slipping quietly through the door. Thick curtains blocked the moonlight. Mokuba squinted in the darkness, trying to make out the form of his brother on the large bed. It was useless.

"Seto?" Mokuba called softly, seized by twin desires to let his brother sleep and to hear his brother's voice. Nothing happened, nor did anything happen when Mokuba called again, louder. "Seto? Are you asleep? Can I stay with you for awhile?"

Again, there was no response.

"Seto, I can't see, so I'm going to turn on the light. Don't be mad if I wake you up. Okay?" Mokuba fumbled for the light switch and flipped it on.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Blinking, Mokuba's heart lurched when he saw the bed was empty. No, not completely empty; there was something dark among the rumpled white sheets. He walked closer, dread building in his chest. It was blood, wet but already congealing. It spread from the pillow to the bed's edge in a large streak, ending in a fine spray. Mokuba tore his gaze from the stain.

For the first time, he noticed the room's disarray. A nightstand lay on its side, the lamp that sat on top of it broken a few feet away. Seto's dueling deck was scattered across the floor.

Mokuba remembered the intercom panel on the wall near the bed and rushed over, careful only not to step on his brother's cards. His hand was halfway to the security button before he saw the dark smudge covering the panel- a bloody handprint.

*** More will come soon; I don't have a real life. Actually, I have a bad track record for finishing stories, but I have changed. I now take medication for my hyper-thyroidism.