This is just a little Bronzeshipping drabble, because….I haven't written anything in a while and I felt like it. So, yeah.
Warnings: shounen-ai (of the Yami Malik/Malik variety)
Disclaimer: I don't own Yuugiou or any of it's characters, etc. I wish
Note: Said drabble takes place during Battle Ship (Battle City Finals)
It's so dark… Malik leaned against the walls of his glass prison, drawing his knees up to his chest. The darkness had long since closed to the outside world, leaving a void of nothingness in all directions. Funny that since his darker side had become its own personality the darkness had become much more frightening.
He'd long since given up escape attempts. Beating the glass simply made his hands sore, and no one could here his screams here. This must be how prisoners are broken for interrogation, Malik thought glumly. In the past few hours his thoughts had taken a decidedly morbid turn. Leave them in the dark, with this maddening silence, until they're desperate to see someone. Anyone. But who's going to come rescue me from here? From my own mind? Flashes passed before his eyes. Memories of the past. Rishid, Isis, his father…
Malik felt a spark of anger. His father! If not for him, and that ritual. But he pushed the thoughts away. That's what got you here isn't it? All that hating. It's what created him. He shuddered. Curious that the thing that frightened him most was a creation of his own twisted mind. Something to protect him from the immense pain of the carvings on his back, and his father's expectations.
Well, now what genius? Nothing to do now but sit and wait…
Yami Malik grinned, revealing a set of pointed teeth. Insanity at it's most dangerous. It really was fun, listening to his weaker self as his thoughts grew more morbid and hopeless. All he had to do was leave him there for a while and he'd fade away completely on his own.
But what fun would that be? After all, torment and suffering were what he lived for. To keep him living in the state he was in would be much more fun than using him as a sacrifice. There were others to serve that purpose.
Unfortunately for Malik, the flow of thoughts was one-way. Worse, the temperature was taking a turn for the worse. He shivered, wishing he was wearing something warmer than his usual purple halter top. He must be trying to kill me faster. Frostbite was never how I wanted to go. His tan skin was becoming eerily pale, and translucent. This must be it. he released the death grip he'd had on his knees, relaxing. If I'm going to die, no point in trying to warm up. And he settled in to greet the inevitable.
A muted click sound made its way through the suffocating silence, followed by the soft swish of cloth. Malik lifted his head.
"Have you stopped screaming now? Hmm, Hikari-pretty?"
"I stopped screaming a long time ago. I know you know that." Malik spat, avoiding the other's cold, dead eyes.
Yami Malik merely smiled, whipping his hand out to leave a stinging mark on Malik's cheek. "It isn't wise to talk like that, Hikari-pretty. I could just leave, leave you allllll alone to fade away into nothing." A wider smile. "Or maybe Hikari-pretty needs a little more time alone?" He paused. "Yes, I think so."
The cold, which hade receded with the darker one's coming, was returning, with twice the ferocity. Malik scrambled desperately to his feet, stumbling and catching the other by the cloak.
"Don't leave!" His eyes were wild, and very, very desperate. "I don't like it here alone. I promise to be good." You could almost see cracks appearing in his last reserves of sanity.
"Just don't…leave me here alone. It's so cold."
Yami Malik's smile was triumphant now, like the cat that finally caught the canary. "Hikari-pretty will be good?"
Malik nodded, his tan skin tinged with blue. "Please…" He whispered.
Yami Malik's hand shot out again, this time ripping the cloth on Malik's shirt, leaving his shoulder bare. He pulled Malik towards him, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. Malik screamed, sure that he'd felt the fangs brush against bone. Whatever was there would be a small but permanent scar. Yami Malik slapped him again. "A possession shouldn't make so much noise."
"P…possession?" Malik squeaked.
"That's right." He tapped the freshly bleeding mark. "Hikari-pretty is marked. That makes him mine." He pulled the light into the folds of his cloak, easing the terrible cold. Malik closed his eyes, suddenly too tired to argue, or do anything else for that matter.
"Yours…"
"That's right. Mine."