Chains
A Yugioh Fanfiction
Chapter 8: Shock
By: Legacy of Darkness
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: R (Rape, abuse, and lots of blood... )
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO, never will... unless, by some freak accident, Takahashi-sensei hands it over to me... XD Like that's ever gonna happen! -- I don't own the komoriuta Japanese lullaby I used in this fic. I don't know the title of it. 'Forgot to write it down. . I don't know who it belongs to, since I got it off of but I still don't own it! I might not use the whole song anyway...
Warning: Rape, torture, abuse, pain, blood, and bad spelling... Sorry if you don't like this kinda stuff-- then again you wouldn't have been reading this far, ne?
Gomen. Gomen. bows deeply It me so long to update because ma' internet was down and I'm not allowed to submit anything from the school library. I'm not sure why... There's a block on the document submission link...that and I got a bit of a writer's block... If you have any idea of how the story should go, tell me! It'll help the story move along. OMFG! I met Aun! Can you beleive it? Good things do happen to bad people! random
IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END OF THE FIC. DOMOU.
The idea of freedom is obsolete. Malik, like many of us, had never had the much desired freedom. He had been limited his whole life by the world. His family, by tradition confined im to a life benath the sands of Egypt. When he had managed to break free, he became a prisoner in his own body. His yami had corrupted his mind, leading him to believe that Atemu, a former pharoh, had killed his father, when he, himself, had murdered him. He had become a prisioner in his own body and even when his yami vanished into the shadows, he was still trapped within himself. He fell into a strong depression soon after Battle City, for reasons unknown. It was as if there had been no point to his life. His sister would constantly tell him that he was young, that he still had many years to make something of his life, but how could he? He had come close to suicide many times and if it had not been for Ishizu, he would have most likely met up with his yami in the Realm of Shadows a long time ago. Unable to run, not even with death, he gradually turned to alcohol, drugs, and sex to make him forget. It worked, for the most part, but as time passed, a huge void began to form inside him, threatening to swallow him whole. Never free... Then she appeared. He spotted her across the bar one night, in a club in Downtown Cairo. She was older, long brown hair and hazel eyes. Kurosaki Sumire. She was obviously foregin; Japanese to be exact. Malik, being who he had become, had walked over to her. Her Arabic was polite, yet unrefined, comfirming that she had never been in Egypt before. The tombkeeper's Japanese was almost perfect, up to date, unlike her Arabic, which lead to a good friendship, since she didn't have many she could talk to. Japanese isn't a very popular language internationally, unlike English, which she had become an expert in while studying in America. Now that he lay here, in a room he had up to now called his own, chained to the bed he had spent so many nights in, with or with out her, he could believe he had fallen for her fake innocence and charm. He had lost track of time a long time ago. It wasn't that the black curtains stopped him from telling day and night from each other; they didn't. Even though they blocked the outside light from entering the room, when the light hit them, like any other dark fabric, the curtains had a certain glow to them. That and the room became incredibly hot. Sumire had done him the favor of turning the air conditioner off in his room. Of all the emotion Malik now felt, hate and anger, were the most overwhelming, not that he could feel much at this point. His body, along with his mind, had gone numb a while back. He assumed he had been chained up for a few days now, maybe a week or a week and a half; he didn't think he could survive two or three, but then again, he had lost track of time. The strangest thing was that he didn't long for food or water, not even freedom; he longed for death. He was sure that that was the only thing that could truly free him now. Once he died, no one would be able to come near him, hurt him. He would fall into a deep, empty sleep, a sleep that would erase every feeling, every emotion.
He was too weak. He couldn't move and breathable air seemed to be limited to him. If you were to walk into the dark room and look toward the bed, you would see him there, his arms chained over his head, laying in his own blood, unconcious with the sheets barly covering his now nude body. You wouldn't assume he was dead, for you'd see his chest rising and falling in a slow, but steady rate, but he wasn't unconcious, not the way he appeared. He was in some form of shock, unable to react the world around him, but it didn't mean he didn't notice it. He heard every noise, felt every one of Sumire's touch on his numb skin, but those noises, that touch, seemed to only exist at that one moment, for as soon as they passed, he would forget they were ever there. Over time, the older woman's 'visits' had become less common. Malik's current condition allowed little chances to 'play', since he rarely moved, saving his energy to keep his chest moving up and down. His own human reflexes seemed to keep him alive, even though the only thing he wanted now was death. At the moment, she was slowly stroking his hair, singing a soft lulluby, or a komoriuta, as it is said in Japanese. It was coming to an end and he was growing tired, yearning to close off his almost unexistant concious from the world.
"... aa kono mama oh, right now...
anata no naka de inside of you...
sekaichuu no namida o the tears of the world...
minaide itai keredo you want to turn away... ..."
Sumire's alto voice rang in his ears like wave hitting a shore. It was peaceful and brought him into a strange sense of peace. He even felt a sort of connection to the words that escaped her soft lips. It was as if it had been directed at him, but even though she was singing to him, he knew she hadn't made up the komoriuta. He had heard it somewhere else before... he just couldn't pinpoint the words with a moment in time. He could barely keep focus on what he heard.
"... doko made mo modori no kusa no wa into eternity, emerald leaves of the meadow weed
kaze ni yureru shacking in the winds.
kizutsuta anata o tsutsunde tending your wounds, i will wrap you in my love;
komoriuta o utaou and sing a lullaby... "
Her voice trailed off into a soft hum as she ended the song. By now Malik's conscienceness had slipped away. His chest moved slower now, more peacefully, as he slept. Sumire kept on tangling his sandy blonde locks in her slender fingers. Through his pain and past, he still seemed so innocent, but she knew better. She knew about his past, how he had lost every drop of 'innocence' that ran in his veins. She had saved him. Why couldn't he be grateful for she had given him? Her hands left his hair to retreive a small key that was hanging around her neck. Sumire slowly took the necklace off and unlocked the chains that bounds her lover in his prision. He had had enough. She had never had to hurt im this much to make him understand what she wanted. One night was usually enough, but this time...
Kisses trailed down Malik's soft skin, but instead of mouning, he grunted. He didn't want this and he was making it more than obvious. He shifted under her, wanting to get rid of the weight pressed up against his already weak body. Sumire picked herself up, so she was on all fours, staring down into his troubled eyes. Didn't he want to play?
"What's wrong?"
A small pause.
"... I... don't want this... "
His voice was horse, as if he had been screaming. He had. Sumire kept him in a constant torture, playing with his body. After he had been 'marked' and the wound had been banaged, she had come back to have sex. Two days. The night she cut him and tonight. She would spend the night, bring on climax after climax, mostly against his will. It wasn't that he couldn't keep up; his previous experiances could have kept him going all night, even into the late morning. It was the fact that he was chained and had no say in what happened, but Sumire didn't care. All she wanted was for Malik to satifiy her. It was she had taken him in for. When she met him, he had been selling his body for a febel amount of pounds, the Egyptian currancy, matching only around two hundred dollars for an entire night. A man like him could probably sell his body for much more than that, maybe four or five times that amount, for one round. He was divaluing himself only to satisfy his need for money and the many addictions he had aquired over the past years. She pulled him away from that world and offered him everything he ever wanted. If it hadn't been for her, Malik would be rotting in a corner of one of the addictions she had rid him of or of a disease he would have most have likely aquired from all the sleeping around.
"Night... Relax. You'll like it, I promise."
"... No."
Sumire firmly grabbed his face, in a manner so brisk that it scared him. There was a deep wanting in her hazel eyes, a strange determination. No matter how many times she seduced him, she had never trully tamed him. He still couldn't believe she had grown so despreate that she accually chained him to his own bed. Maybe he wasn't as weak as he thought he was.
"You do as I say, got it?"
From the tone she gave, Malik knew he had to agree, so he gave her a breif nod. He had learned that much from being with her for so long. A year. It didn't seem like a long time until now. It was his turn to control her. After all, at times it's the pet that manipulates his master. She pressed her lips harshly against his, a need so strong it was hurting her. Malik was only drifting farther apart. She didn't want that. She wanted him all to herself. The last words she wanted to her from him just happened to be the next words to leave his lips.
"... I hate you."
A chill ran down her spine as she walked down the empty halls of Domino High. For some reason unknown, Anzu felt cold all of a sudden. She stopped by a heater on the side of the hall and brought her hand over it.
'Warm... then why...?... Maybe I'm coming do with something.'
She put her now warmed hand to her forehead, closing her azure eyes. She had been losing a good amount of sleep the past few days, waking up in the middle of the night with a burning, uneasy feeling. The stangest thing was that once she woke up, she would suddenlly remember Malik. She hadn't seen him in about three weeks now, meaning he was probably far away. She didn't know why she was so worried. He used her. All he wanted was sex, didn't he? Memories of that last night still rang in her head. She could remember his every word, his every, wanting touch, but then she remembered his eyes. There was something in there depths, something that nagged at her everytime she recalled his memory. It was as if he had been silently begging for her to turn around and run away from him, never looking back. She did just that. She regreted it. Maybe if she had stayed behind and yelled at him, she would had learned why he did the things he did, but she didn't. She ran. She left him there, abandoned, just like everyone else in his life had. A painful burning filled her chest: guilt. She had turned her back on him.
'But he used me. He had it coming!'
Anzu shook the thoughts out of her head and pushed a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear. She had to forget about him now. No matter what went through her mind, Malik was in a much better place now, along side a much better woman. Just as she was about to star walking again, ready to leave the school, when she heard a deep voice behind her.
"What's going on, Mizaki?"
The brunette reconized the CEO's voive immediately. Anzu didn't even turn around, she just spoke.
"What do you mean?"
Her voice dripped with a certain innocence Seto hated. He hated the fact that she made the world believe she was so pure and gentle, only to show her fangs later on and lure others to doubt themselves. She had done that to him. She had made him doubt the way he had lived his life. He had never given her the sadisfaction of admitting he had doubted himself to her or anyone, but he did and that was enough.
"You know exactly what I mean. I noticed the way you're acting."
Seto had noticed the way she had begun to doze off in class. She wasn't even being her over-optimist self anymore. It was as if she had fallen into some sort of depression. Anzu turned to face him for the first time since the two started this akward conversation.
"Oh, really? So you acually care about someone other than yourself for once?"
Didn't she know he wasn't that way anymore? She did. She was trying to tick him off. She had a way of doing that. The strange thing was, that he did care, but that didn't mean she had to know.
"Very funny. I'm just curious. You've been acting strange ever since you came to me asking about Kurosaki. You found out she's a bitch with a pretty mask?"
"No."
"Then?"
Anzu stayed silent for a while. She didn't know how to answer. Seto's gaze seemed to shoot straight into her soul, so she lowered her eyes, trying to avoid it. It didn't work. She could feel his cold orbs on her, but now matter how long she stayed quiet, he stayed still, not bothering to push her for an answer. His best virtue happen to be his patience.
'What am I supposed to say...?'
"It's... It's sortta personal..."
It wasn't enough, Seto didn't ask anymore questions; he just nodded and walked up to her. The taller brunette was acting much more gentle then his nature, but how couldn't he. For some reason unknown, he had always admired the girl. She was confident, strong... free. She was everything he wanted to be, everything he wanted. He didn't want her to crack, not when he could help it. He walked up to her and whispered into her ear, even though there was no one else around. His respose was the right one.
"... You're not alone."
Azure eyes, eyes that once were bright and full of happiness, shot open in suprise. Was he...? She didn't care. Anzu let herself fall against Seto's chest, gripping his shirt, and did the last thing he expected from her. She cried. How did she know he wasn't going to push her away...?
IMPORTANT: PLZ READ: I know I promised longer chapters but I couldn't think of how to continue. I want to develop a relationship between Seto and Anzu but... Stupid writer's block! Plz if you have any idea of how this should go, tell me. Anyway, I just wanted to remind you, beautiful fans, about ma' Anzu/Atemu fanfic, "Before I Go." I'm still offering it to anyone who wants it. I'm tryin' to enable anynoumous reviews so that you people who aren't signed up to can review. Gomen, if I offened you over the whole "not reviewing" thing. Guess it was my fault...
!Review!... now all of you can!
Legacy of Darkness
