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Disclaimer: How many times must I say it? Yu-Gi-Oh is not mine, though I wish it was, because I am in desperate need of spending money. Any donations? No? Fine, then, I only ask you to please not take my ideas. It would sadden me greatly, and you would get nothing out of it. Better not to waste your energy, eh? XP
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Ahem...Yes. Here is the first chapter, for anyone who is interested. It is somewhat angsty, as you will realize as you read on. (My apologies if it seems a bit on the slow side; I tend to use much description when I write.)
Essentially, the chapter is an introduction of Yugi's life. In this reality, he has not yet found the Millennium Puzzle, his grandfather has just died, he lives alone, he has no friends, and he is a prime target for any tormentor because of his gentle and timid nature. (Life is looking very unfortunate for him, no?) All he wants is to find peace and happiness—and to dispel the loneliness that consumes his heart.
Hmm, hmm...Those are the main things you need to know—for now, that is...XP
Anyway, please do review! My story is lonely and needs a friend...
CC
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Chapter One:
The Tempest Within
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Glacial, icy winds had blown in from the south. No one dared to venture out into the unforgiving cold, for it chilled bones, bodies and hearts like a ghostly winter frost. There was no sign of life outside the gray buildings; the only sound that could be heard was the roaring of the gale as it rushed swiftly past, heeding nothing but the uninhibited bliss of its own weightless freedom—of its own superiority over the pathetic mortals that inhabited its windswept realm.
Unable to withstand the elements, powerless to control the unbridled wrath of the world, craven spirits could only quiver in fear and secret awe as the bitter ferocity of nature unfolded before their eyes. Shielded by manmade fortifications, certain that their own security was assured, they basked in the warmth of their dwellings, delighted in the light of their fires, and relished the company of the ones they loved, taking the pleasant peace—as well as everything else—for granted. Gazing through transparent glass, they wordlessly watched all traces of luminosity disappear into nothingness, and quietly waited for the moment of savage awakening.
The storm was coming.
It could not be escaped; it was all around; it had been unleashed from its prison, and it could not be stopped.
Dark, ominous clouds gathered in the sky, mocking the lonely world below with cruel, thundering laughter that resounded throughout the shadowy heavens. Flashes of lightning danced across the steely firmament, illuminating the earth like sparks of white fire, cracking and flickering and forking, branching into the misty horizon like fractured, incandescent trees. Crystal rain showered from above, drowning the lonely city in a surge of liquid pain; the downpour was deafening, and it emitted an aura of incomprehensible sadness and suffering—an anguish so great that no creature could ever hope to understand it, even if holy immortality had prolonged their fleeting existences for all eternity.
As ethereal mist drifted down from the clouds, floating in the air like a spectral wraith, a solitary figure roamed the drenched streets like a wandering phantom, his mind lost in a haze of unfeeling numbness. Morose thoughts, as bleak and dreary as the merciless storm, lingered in the depths of his subconscious, haunting him like demons of the night. Tormenting restlessness and aching despair taunted him relentlessly; there was no peace, no comfort, no respite. There was only a throbbing void that could not be filled; and it panged so intensely that he was driven to the brink of madness.
Oh, God...Why am I here? What am I doing? Where am I going? I really can't take this anymore. I have no one...
Scarlet blood tainted his body, flowing from newly inflicted wounds that had not yet had time to heal. Crimson droplets trickled down his pale, innocent face, melting into the cascading torrent as though they never were. Poorly clothed, the boy shivered incessantly, and his teeth chattered as the arctic winds kissed his already frozen skin. Maroon and raven strands, saturated with chilled moisture, dripped water onto the colorless ground. Wet, golden bangs slightly veiled the broken expression on his countenance, but could not conceal his eyes—the fractured windows into his soul.
Those eyes...They were like dark amethysts, tinted with shades of muted wine-red. The hue was soft and subdued—a shifting, shadowy ruby-purple, dimmed by despondency and grief. Childish, carefree joy had once given life to those eyes, but ruthless fate had murdered that happiness, and now only shimmering sadness remained in its place.
On the surface of those violet orbs, a gentle kindness and shy diffidence masked the pain he felt within. Each day, it was agonizing torment for the boy to maintain that false façade of tranquil placidity. Inwardly, he wanted to scream out to the heavens, to plead for someone to save him from the black and bottomless abyss.
No one ever paid him any heed. No one. Even when his classmates did acknowledge his presence—which was rare—they never cared to befriend him or offer him a kind word. To them, he was the strange, spineless, smiling outcast who never defended himself, who never spoke to anyone unless they spoke to him first. There was something odd about him, something unsettling, something indescribably sad. And although they often felt vaguely sorry for him, they did not especially like him; they even took advantage of him when they had the chance. It was not difficult to exploit his weaknesses.
To all the bullies, he was a perfect target. One who would not put up a fight. One who accepted his ill luck. One who was never scarred by his innumerable unfortunate encounters. His docility was so bizarre, but no one even tried to discern the melancholy that lurked within those thinly masqueraded depths.
How unseeing , how heartless, how foolish could people possibly be?
Back then, he did not mind the isolation, the exclusion, the loneliness. That was before the...the...tragedy.
But now...Now...Now he was totally detached from human companionship, and he could not bear it.
Why was it that the cries of the silent ones were never heard?
Suddenly brought back to reality, the trembling boy listlessly looked up, realizing that he had arrived at the place that he had once called home.
No, this house, this building, was not truly his home. Not anymore. Without his grandfather, it was only a forsaken abode, a vacant and empty space that echoed with the eerie whispers of lost memories.
The boy remembered that day all too well. There had been no warning—none whatsoever. In an instant, his grandfather was gone forever, and he was alone. Alone. He would never forget the utter misery and unbearable heartache that had stabbed him like a thousand razor-sharp knives. At that moment, dejection had shattered his being, and the shards embedded themselves deep into his heart. Even now, he bled freely, and at times it hurt so much that he could not go on living.
Clutching his throbbing head, the boy attempted to contain the emotions that once again threatened to burst inside him. No, no, no, no...None of this was real. How could it be? One moment he and his grandfather were laughing together, and the next...and the next...his grandfather's spirit had fled into oblivion.
How could everything change in a single instant? Was destiny really that wicked?
This is all just a bad dream. When I wake up, I won't be alone...None of this will have happened...Still...I'm so cold...So cold...Why am I so cold? I don't want this...Let me wake up...
A forced smile played on his lips as he closed his eyes and stood in the middle of the deserted road, tilting his head up to the solemn sky. If he did not believe in the lie, perhaps it would simply go away, and he would at last be released from this terrible nightmare.
Yes...A nightmare. The most horrible nightmare that anyone could ever envision.
Unable to move his frozen muscles, and dangerously weak from loss of blood, the boy willed his very essence to reach the house's threshold, even though he felt is was useless to do so. Barely conscious, he staggered toward the door, aimlessly reaching for an illusion that scornfully evaded his feeble grasp.
Strength failed him as he surrendered to wretchedness and exhaustion. He stumbled and fell, landing on the hard concrete, wincing in helpless pain. Drained of life, he made no attempt to rise, and instead lay on the flooded cement, letting the rainfall wash over his frail body.
Wait...Was he imagining things? The rain had become unusually hot, and it seemed to burn his face; somehow it tasted salty in his mouth. No matter how many times he tried to wipe the raindrops away, they continued to dampen his visage. Wave after scorching wave descended from the leaden clouds, scalding his fragile spirit and blurring his vision to the point of watery blindness. Did the rain normally sting like a million prickling needles as it touched his skin?
Confusion clouded his mind; he could no longer think.
Unmeasured time passed as the boy sobbed and prayed for the thunderstorm to cease its rampant ire. As if nature itself took pity on the shuddering, pathetic shred of life, the gale subsided, and the rain lessened to a soft, sorrowful drizzle. Gusting winds receded, and the thunder's laughter diminished to a sonorous snicker. Coruscation returned to its invisible sire, the molten sun. Dewy mist dissolved into vaporous steam. Steely gray clouds summoned the frosty chill into their midst; then they dispersed to remote corners of the city, revealing a blank, toneless, monochrome sky.
Breathing shallowly, the boy slightly elevated his head, dimly recognizing the drastic changes in the weather. Hot with fever, he desperately crawled to the house, almost collapsing when he read the nameplate hanging over the entrance.
Mutou Sugoroku.
A name that had died, along with its former possessor.
With an unsteady hand, the boy pushed the door open with all his might. It creaked once, then slowly opened. He had not bothered to lock it before leaving that day. What did it matter now? Maybe he should have stayed outside and let sleep take him; maybe he should have let the storm carry him away.
More blood seeped out of his wounds; a few more brackish droplets trickled down his cheek.
Once inside, the boy sighed in defeat and crumpled in a heap on the carpet. Diluted red liquid and water soaked the pastel fabric; a puddle collected around his quavering form. Delirious with illness, he tossed and turned, weeping in anguish. Disconcerting thoughts once again plagued his mind; he could not escape the turmoil stirring throughout his being.
This pain...I'm dying...I'm alone...I'm alone...So alone...Someone, anyone...
A low murmur disturbed the hush of the household. If anyone had heard, they would have felt their own hearts breaking.
"Help me..."
Sweet slumber finally cast its spell, and the boy willingly answered the darkness's call.
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Oh, poor Yugi! Forgive me for making him endure all this!
How did you like it? Sorry if it was long; the chapter seemed to draw me in. I would truly appreciate anything you have to say!
Again, I will try to update once a week, but it may be longer. Ah, if only it was not for school! Soon, though...Soon I will be free of it. The time is near...Heh heh heh heh...XPP
Ahem...Right. Until then, yes?
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Crystallis Chandalline
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