Renegadeshipping (Thief King Bakura x Diabound)
(I missed this one. Sticking it back into place.)
He couldn't breathe.
Stones stabbed into Bakura's bare feet as he hurtled down into the tunnels. Heart pulsed in his ears. Lungs fluttered weakly. Like a hand crushed his chest. He couldn't see. It was too dark in the tunnels.
He hit a wall. It was easier to just fall backwards and not get up, his entire body pulsing with pain. But he couldn't even cry out. His lungs wouldn't let him breathe.
Gasp, gasp, gasp.
Thin, thin breaths, too thin. His head was spinning. His muscles twitched.
And then the tears came.
All he could see in the back of his head was that gold. The molten, hot gold, poured thickly into molds. Gold made from bones and flesh. Gold made from blood and muscle.
Gold made from the screams of his people.
Now he cried out – a long, whining noise that escaped from the back of his throat and didn't stop, no matter if he wanted it to.
Everyone – everyone he had ever known – gone. The whine of his scream echoed through the tunnels, and he wondered, detachedly, if the soldiers might hear him all the way back up there in Kul Elna, and find him, and throw him in the pot with everyone.
That thought, more than anything, made him stop screaming.
He lay perfectly still, spread-eagle in the darkness. The stone was cold beneath him. Now, and only now could he feel the cold tendrils of the cave air poking at his bare arms and legs, trying to seep through his thin sack tunic.
He curled up in on himself. Tears continued to drip silently onto the stones, over his nose. He trembled so hard that he thought for a moment that the earth was shaking.
Where would he go? What would he do now?
His head wouldn't stop spinning. His breaths still wouldn't come quite right. He started to rock back and forth on his side, humming to himself, but he didn't know what he was humming.
I'm going mad, he thought at the back of his head, but the thought didn't really feel like his own. Nothing in his own head felt like his own. And those didn't seem to match his body, either, which seemed to have gained a mind of its own, unable to stop rocking and humming.
He figured out why he was humming, then. It was to drown out the memory screams echoing in his head. Tears fell even more quickly. He was alone! He was completely abandoned!
Another long, high pitched whine escaped from his throat.
And then he heard the darkness shift. He froze, the cry dying in his throat. His eyes tried to pierce the darkness, but there wasn't the slightest bit of light. Even the hours spent down here already hadn't helped his vision. He shuddered, remembering suddenly his fear of the dark.
Shshshshsshshshshshhshhshs...
It was a quiet sound. Like the murmur of a breeze through branches. Bakura felt like he should probably be frightened. But he wasn't. It was like he could hear words within the whisper. Words like...
Hush...don't be afraid of the dark. You're not alone, after all...
Bakura sat up, pushing himself onto his knees. He was still trembling so violently that he could barely stay upright. But he continued to peer into the darkness.
"Hello?" he whispered.
The darkness shifted again.
I'll let you see me... the whisper said.
And suddenly, Bakura could see in the dark.
He could see the great beast in front of him, vaguely human in shape, but with huge, feathered wings and a scaly tail ending in a snake's head instead of legs. Horns curled from the top of its head. Bakura stared, eyes wide. Again, he felt like he should be frightened.
But he wasn't.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
The creature leaned forward. Bakura leaned back as the creature's face came right up in his. It's eyes were nothing more than holes in its skull, so deep and black that Bakura couldn't see into them.
I am what's left, it whispered.
Bakura's eyes widened. With one, small hand, he reached out towards the creature. It didn't move as Bakura touched the creature's forehead.
The memory of screams seared through him, but he did not jerk away. He kept his hand on the creature's forehead as the terror flooded through him, pain and fear, hatred and anger – the last thoughts of his fellow villagers before their brutal deaths.
The torrent stopped. Bakura didn't take his hand away. The little boy and the monster stared at each other. A strange feeling trickled through Bakura, as though to fill in the holes left behind by the flood of emotion.
"What are you called?" he asked.
I have no name.
Bakura paused.
"I'll give you one," he whispered. "I will call you Diabound."
A rumbling sound started in Diabound's chest, like a cross between a growl and a sigh. Bakura's fist tightened in his lap.
"Help me avenge them," he said, hatred dripping from his voice like poison. "Help me kill everyone who did this."
Again that rumbling noise from Diabound.
That is what I was made for, the creature said.
A/N: Wow, that was actually pretty cool, if I do say so myself. :) Next is Rendershipping (Jonouchi x Pegasus x Seto).
