Hidden Death
Summary: Ever get that feeling of being watched, or death lurking around you? A dangerous enigma begins as eight year old Yugi discovers he and his grandpa are not living in their new home alone... (AU Yaoi-Free)
A/N:
Yep. Another fic. Kind of a new direction heading with this one, but
eh, you'll see. Like I did with THoP, I'd like to thank Angel Red for
helping me out once again. Actually, I'm sort of co-writing this with
her, but only after chapter 5 because I already wrote 1-4 n.n
But of course there is always time for editing, so I'm not going to
post them until I have at 100 percent confidence in them. As with the
structure of this story, it is totally unlike something I've ever done
before. I've gone from sweet, action romance to horror and mystery. XD
awkward change, no? Well, that's me for ya! Constantly changing! (wink) I've decided to keep this one Yaoi-Free,
because, well it's when Yugi was a teensy weensy little eight year old.
And ahem, yeah...BUT! Do not fail on me, for there will be a sequel to
this when Yugi is his normal self, and THAT will be a Yaoi ficcie. (I
think, I'm still deciding but that's the general idea). Oh and please
bare with me on the title, I honestly couldn't think of anything
better. It's probably hopelessly overused, but eh, this is MY version.
A/N 2: Yeah, I need a second one. xP Just a quick note, please be reminded that Yugi is in second grade, therefore he acts differently (more childish, clueless, etc) That's what I'm trying to capture in his POV, so some things might not make the best of sense, or be in character. It IS an AU! (alternate universe)
This has to be the longest note I've ever typed, so enough of me blabbering, go on and read!
Disclaimer: Not mine! Don't sue! I don't own any movies I happen to pick out ideas/lines unknowingly from, too. XD
CHAPTER ONE:
I wasn't a kid. Why did grandpa always call me a kid? I could beat him at every game, out run him at every race, and even lift things heavier than he could. So why was I still a kid?
Sure, I was merely 3 feet tall, had the widest amethyst eyes, and could never stop giggling, but did that automatically classify me as a kid?
Here I am, getting lectured by Grandpa once again that I must cross a road with his hand, and his hand only. Like I would go up to a stranger and ask him to hold my hand as I cross the road.
Like I said grandpa, I'm not a kid! I think I'm smart enough to cross the road on my own! Go when it's green, stop when it's red. Walk between the white lines. It's not kindergarten work! I'm in second grade now! Almost eight years old!
After grandpa finished with his lecture, we finally made it to the other side. After running a few meters ahead, he calls me to stop.
Oh what NOW? Can't I have fun for just one second?
I glared at grandpa, and he pointed to a building to my right. Oh.
I really should learn to stop complaining.
I had run passed our new house, or more like our new shop, by the way it looked.
He decided it was best if we moved back to Domino, Japan. It was the town where grandpa grew up, and he wanted me to experience it first hand. The schools were great, and grandpa claimed everyone was nice. Except for when it came to homes...
The building looked like a run-down old trinket store. As I took the first step, mice scrawled out from underneath. Instantly I screamed and ran further into the shop, clouds of dust forming with every step I took. I stopped running and eyed and old broom in the corner. Ew. This place even had old witch brooms. Just who had lived here before? I widened my eyes and jerked them away from the gaze of the broom.
"Well here it is, Yugi!" Grandpa said, patting me on the back. I inhaled a layer of dust covering the floor and instantly coughed. "Welcome to the new Game Shop, and our home! What'd you think? A few small repairs, and it should look as good as new!" Grandpa said spiritedly as he continued to walk through the shop, stepping over boxes and pushing aside an old toy house.
"Are you sure you didn't get confused between a graveyard and home?" I mumbled, making sure grandpa didn't hear me. Waving cobwebs out of my face, I continued to walk also, climbing the stairs cautiously, afraid one could snap at any given time.
I made it, thankfully.
Checking the first room, I turned the knob on the door. I wasn't surprised when it snapped right off and clunked to the floor.
"Perfect." I mumbled, narrowing my eyes at the knob and the cloud of dust it made. "I guess this place is as bad as it looks." I ran a hand through my hair exhaustingly. Pushing the door open with a single finger, a loud creak could be heard as wood cracked and split into two as it twisted on the hinges.
Just how did I make it up those stairs?
Gulping and pinching my nose tightly, I took a wide step into the room, hearing the floor boards creak underneath. In the center of the room was a small twin-sized bed. Old blue sheets covered the mattress, wrinkled in the middle as if someone had recently slept there. There wasn't even a layer of dust coating the bed.
I cringed, hoping it wasn't a raccoon or some unknown animal that managed to sneak into the house.
Looking over to an over-sized mirror, I pinched my nose tighter and took in a deep breath, closing my eyes as I blew the layer of dust off the surface of the mirror. I immediately began coughing, even with my nose pinched.
The mirror surprisingly had no cracks in it, and looked brand new. Save for a few hand smudges on the corners, but even my old mirror had those. The molding on the mirror looked hand-carved, with that Egyptian text called hieroglyphics. How did I know that? Well, Grandpa is an archaeologist back in Egypt, so I picked a few facts from him.
Walking further, I glanced at the two set of drawers, each an old oak wood, aging with holes and some sort of...scratch marks?
Kneeling down, I swiped away at a cobweb in the corner of the drawer. Squinting my eyes, I leaned forward and stared at the marks.
There were three long lines, perfectly cut and seemed to look...dare I say it, fresh? The wood was pushed up where a strong force seemed to dig deeper and deeper. The marks began at the base of the leg, and curled upward toward the top of the drawer, looking done on purpose. Just who in the right mind would want to scratch a perfectly good drawer?
(END YUGI'S POV)
Yugi leaned closer, and noticed that next to the marks were some similar, only not used with so much pressure as the fresh-looking ones.
Just what happened here? Yugi thought, leaning closer as he stretched his small fingers out to touch the wood.
Yugi didn't realize that the room became a shade darker.
The light bulb handing by a wire in Yugi's room flickered once.
Yugi bit his lip, leaning closer and placing his fingers into the streaks.
The light flickered twice. A wind blew through the curtains on the windows, tossing them around.
Yugi's nails traced the scratches, fingers trailing up the fresh lines on the wood..
The light suddenly burned out.
Yugi gasped and pulled his hand away, landing on the floor with a thump. His heart raced as darkness surrounded him, the only light being the one from downstairs. Yugi shuddered, breathing deeply he widened his eyes and looked up to the swinging, burned light bulb above him. Swinging? Oh, Must've been the wind. Yugi thought as he sat up, dusting his pants and hands off. That was enough exploring for one day.
And yet, he couldn't help but glance back at that drawer...
"Yugi!" He snapped his head up to his grandfather calling him. "Come down and help me bring some of these items outside, will you?" A smile lit up Yugi's face.
"Sure thing, Grandpa! Oh, and this light up here blew out!" Yugi ran down the stairs, forgetting the caution from before.
The light bulb flickered back on again.
Yugi huffed another breath of air as he placed a large box down on the sidewalk. He and his grandfather were cleaning out the old shop, tossing away items left behind. Surprisingly, they found more stuff than expected.
From old jackets, to old books, to old clocks, to old plaques. Almost everything that you would find in a modern day home, just...dustier and older.
Yugi flopped down on the new couch that was brought in which replaced the dust mite-infested one. It was a smooth auburn leather, cooling to the touch on a humid day like this.
Yugi was dressed in a pair of baggy, old jeans. Perfect for working in an environment like this. A tight, long-sleeved T-shirt covered his small torso, protecting his arms from any unknown mold and such. Latex gloves were placed on his delicate hands, now flexing themselves to get rid of tension. Sweat covered his brow, which was hidden by strands of goldenrod bangs. His head was made up of ebony and violet hair, spiked uniquely and tied back on his head.
"Worn out, boy?" Yugi's grandpa asked as he walked into the room, holding two glasses of water. Yugi's eyes shone with thankfulness as he took a glass and gorged it down, water dribbling down his chin as he soaked every last drop. His grandfather, Solomon Muto gulped and stood up. "I'll go get more then..." He said, rushing off to get more water for his grandson.
Yugi laughed. "Sorry, Grandpa. Just feel a bit dehydrated and I've been holding back on water thinking it would slow me down." Yugi used the back of his palm to wipe the sweat off his forehead. "I think I feel better now." Yugi was silenced when another glass of water was placed up to his chin. He smiled gratefully and gorged it down, not as fast as before, but still fast enough to be considered thirsty.
"Let's see, we've got the kitchen and upstairs to finish up for tomorrow. I guess we'll have to stay in the Living room for tonight, alright?" Solomon said as he patted his grandson's head. Yugi smiled and nodded in assurance.
"Not a problem, Grandpa. Do you think we'll finish by tomorrow?" Yugi asked in his cheerful eight year old voice. Suddenly his sentence was paused when he yawned. Solomon looked outside. The sky was painted with reds and purples, the effects of a setting sun.
"Yes." He answered. "but for now you need your rest." He said, lying Yugi on the couch. Fluffing a pair of pillows and placing it under his head, Grandpa Mutou leaned down and kissed his grandson on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, little one." He whispered.
"Hmm. Sweet dreams, Grandpa."
The minute hand on the large grandfather clock struck midnight. A low rumble of wind blew through the house, making two figures shiver. One being a small child, curled up in pillows on a leather couch. Another being an older man, snoring loudly on a recliner.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The pendulum below the face of the clock swung back and forth with each tick. It glistened brightly every time the moon's light shone on it's surface as it passed by the light from the window.
Another gust of wind tossed the curtains from the open window.
The minute hand moved one stroke passed midnight. The pendulum continued to swing, not missing a single beat.
Time continued to pass, the larger hand on the clock moving one stroke every sixty seconds. Eight whole minutes had passed.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Sixty seconds concluded. The minute hand moved one more stroke, landing on the nine minute mark.
12:09
The second hand stopped ticking.
The pendulum stopped swinging.
A deadly silence filled the air.
And deadly it was, indeed...for a new figure appeared in the quiet room, sitting ever so gracefully on the window pane.
A childish hum filled the corners of the room, whispering a lullaby from a time long ago. Gentle strokes like the seconds on a clock echoed throughout the home, as two small feet tapped against the brick outsides of the shop.
The figure shifted in its position on the window pane and turned around, crimson eyes locking onto a solemn, sleeping face of a child. The child on the leather couch...
Another gust of wind rippled through the open window, tossing the curtains harder this time. Folds of silk flew into the air like waves in the ocean. The crimson eyed boy remained still, eyes locked onto the sleeping boy. The moon's light reflected in his eyes.
As the curtains settled down, they landed gracefully back into their positions next to the now empty window. The wind had suddenly disappeared, along with the crimson eyed boy in a matter of seconds.
And the pendulum on the clock began to swing again...
To be continued...if you review!
Comments? Pwease? Like I said in the A/N above, I'm shooting for a whole new motive here. Not my BEST work, but I'm proud of it. Tips and critique would be MUCH appreciated if you are good with this horror stuff. Practice makes perfect, right? Thanks!
