Self Destruct
By Katia-chan
A/N: I'm updating something within the same week I wrote it! It's a miracle. Well, the inspiration is slowly fading, so I'll thank all the reviewers right now...thank you you all! I love you! There, now I'll start the fic and have my huge long rant at the bottom.
Enjoy!
()()()()()()()()()()()()
He stood in the shower, the water turned on as hot as it would go to keep them at bay, to keep his head clear. The droplets burned him, and he loved it. He watched the water travel down his chest, leaving little paths of pink in its wake.
He wanted to know if he was crazy, if he were losing his mind. Of course he was, how could he doubt it, he heard voices that would only go away with pain. He was an unwilling masochist, the most screwed up of them all. He didn't want himself, but he dind't want to go crazy. He knew he already was, but he knew it would get worse if he stayed with them, listened to their beckoning cries and hopeless wails. It would push him over the edge, and then he wouldn't be able to fight them, and he'd fall. Down down down, to where they waited for him. He shivered despite the burning heat and climbed out of the shower. The air felt freezing compared to the burning shower, and he wrapped a towel around him and went into his room to get dressed.
After dawning a pair of black sweat pants and a black sweatshirt he trooped downstairs and heated up last night's Chinese left overs. Sitting in front of the couch he turned on the TV and treated himself to a few mindless hours of cartoons, and then Bakura came home.
The spirit walked in at gave a mock glare.
"You ate my Chinese, now I get your soul." Ryou smiled and took a big bite of the egg drop soup, burning his tongue and not telling Bakura it burned his tongue, because that would ruin everything.
"Come and get it," Ryou said, taking the last mouthful into his mouth and not swallowing.
"You hentai," Bakura teased, poking Ryou in the chest "Swallow that." Ryou grinned and felt a little soup dribble down his chin. Bakura bent over in laughter and Ryou swallowed the soup with difficulty, still choking and laughing.
"Bakura, you made me drool on myself!" he said, he went to wipe it off but Bakura caught his hand and licked just a little of the soup off Ryou's face, just a little tongue flick.
"There, all clan."
"You Neko." Bakura simply meowed and started nuzzling Ryou's hand. Ryou hit him over the head with the chopsticks.
"Hey!"
"Are you ready to go to bed neko-yami?" Bakura started to shake his head, but then a yawn twisted his face and he switched to a nod.
"Let's go." They trooped upstairs, stripped down to their boxers and climbed into the queen sized bed.
"Good night Ryou."
"Good night Bakura." Bakura rolled over and Ryou lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, he didn't want to sleep, knowing what it would bring, but he felt so safe and warm and comfortable, he rolled over and looked at the floor, the chopsticks lay there. He picked them up and set them on the night table, ready for his use whenever the occasion called for it.
He smiled at them and drifted off.
'we want to know you, feel you, touch you and read you, we want to suck your being in with us and keep you for our own' he jerked awake, his body rigid and sweating, muscles cramping on the spot. He felt himself jerk, the voices rang loud in his head and he bit his tongue hard to keep from screaming. He must not wake Bakura, it was essential.
"You have weapons over there, use them," he hissed under his breath, "Just reach out your hand, grab them and then it'll be over." His voice wasn't even a whisper; it was the quietest of hisses. He tried to lift his hand, trying to listen to his own commands, willing his hand to grab his liberators, but his hand was frozen to his side, fingernails biting into his palm.
"Move," he hissed, the voices screamed in his head. 'Don't' fight! You are ours and ours alone, we claimed you with the first brush of,'
"No," he whispered desperately, "No." His body gave another lurch, and it was all he needed, his hand was finally freed, and with the voices still screaming he grabbed the chopsticks, jabbed them into his hand. The voices quieted a little, but were still there, they didn't except merely pain, they wanted blood.
He pressed hard and then he twisted and drew drops of blood. There was a climactic roar in his head and then they went quiet.
He flopped back on the bed, breathing hard and slowly relaxing his tight muscles. He carefully set the chopsticks down and looked over at the clock. It was 3 in the morning, and he knew, just by the way his body shook that sleep would be evasive tonight.
He got up to rinse the sacrifice from his hands.
()()()()(()()()()()()
A/N: Well, I liked this chapter, almost better then the last one, but I want to know what's going through your head, but I'm not a telepath, so you'll have to review and tell me what you think.
TTFn
Katia-chan
By Katia-chan
A/N: I'm updating something within the same week I wrote it! It's a miracle. Well, the inspiration is slowly fading, so I'll thank all the reviewers right now...thank you you all! I love you! There, now I'll start the fic and have my huge long rant at the bottom.
Enjoy!
()()()()()()()()()()()()
He stood in the shower, the water turned on as hot as it would go to keep them at bay, to keep his head clear. The droplets burned him, and he loved it. He watched the water travel down his chest, leaving little paths of pink in its wake.
He wanted to know if he was crazy, if he were losing his mind. Of course he was, how could he doubt it, he heard voices that would only go away with pain. He was an unwilling masochist, the most screwed up of them all. He didn't want himself, but he dind't want to go crazy. He knew he already was, but he knew it would get worse if he stayed with them, listened to their beckoning cries and hopeless wails. It would push him over the edge, and then he wouldn't be able to fight them, and he'd fall. Down down down, to where they waited for him. He shivered despite the burning heat and climbed out of the shower. The air felt freezing compared to the burning shower, and he wrapped a towel around him and went into his room to get dressed.
After dawning a pair of black sweat pants and a black sweatshirt he trooped downstairs and heated up last night's Chinese left overs. Sitting in front of the couch he turned on the TV and treated himself to a few mindless hours of cartoons, and then Bakura came home.
The spirit walked in at gave a mock glare.
"You ate my Chinese, now I get your soul." Ryou smiled and took a big bite of the egg drop soup, burning his tongue and not telling Bakura it burned his tongue, because that would ruin everything.
"Come and get it," Ryou said, taking the last mouthful into his mouth and not swallowing.
"You hentai," Bakura teased, poking Ryou in the chest "Swallow that." Ryou grinned and felt a little soup dribble down his chin. Bakura bent over in laughter and Ryou swallowed the soup with difficulty, still choking and laughing.
"Bakura, you made me drool on myself!" he said, he went to wipe it off but Bakura caught his hand and licked just a little of the soup off Ryou's face, just a little tongue flick.
"There, all clan."
"You Neko." Bakura simply meowed and started nuzzling Ryou's hand. Ryou hit him over the head with the chopsticks.
"Hey!"
"Are you ready to go to bed neko-yami?" Bakura started to shake his head, but then a yawn twisted his face and he switched to a nod.
"Let's go." They trooped upstairs, stripped down to their boxers and climbed into the queen sized bed.
"Good night Ryou."
"Good night Bakura." Bakura rolled over and Ryou lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, he didn't want to sleep, knowing what it would bring, but he felt so safe and warm and comfortable, he rolled over and looked at the floor, the chopsticks lay there. He picked them up and set them on the night table, ready for his use whenever the occasion called for it.
He smiled at them and drifted off.
'we want to know you, feel you, touch you and read you, we want to suck your being in with us and keep you for our own' he jerked awake, his body rigid and sweating, muscles cramping on the spot. He felt himself jerk, the voices rang loud in his head and he bit his tongue hard to keep from screaming. He must not wake Bakura, it was essential.
"You have weapons over there, use them," he hissed under his breath, "Just reach out your hand, grab them and then it'll be over." His voice wasn't even a whisper; it was the quietest of hisses. He tried to lift his hand, trying to listen to his own commands, willing his hand to grab his liberators, but his hand was frozen to his side, fingernails biting into his palm.
"Move," he hissed, the voices screamed in his head. 'Don't' fight! You are ours and ours alone, we claimed you with the first brush of,'
"No," he whispered desperately, "No." His body gave another lurch, and it was all he needed, his hand was finally freed, and with the voices still screaming he grabbed the chopsticks, jabbed them into his hand. The voices quieted a little, but were still there, they didn't except merely pain, they wanted blood.
He pressed hard and then he twisted and drew drops of blood. There was a climactic roar in his head and then they went quiet.
He flopped back on the bed, breathing hard and slowly relaxing his tight muscles. He carefully set the chopsticks down and looked over at the clock. It was 3 in the morning, and he knew, just by the way his body shook that sleep would be evasive tonight.
He got up to rinse the sacrifice from his hands.
()()()()(()()()()()()
A/N: Well, I liked this chapter, almost better then the last one, but I want to know what's going through your head, but I'm not a telepath, so you'll have to review and tell me what you think.
TTFn
Katia-chan