The knife came down slowly; Mahaad watched as Bakura plunged it deep into his neck. The blade easily pierced the skin and continued deep inside. He closed his eyes as the blood poured into his throat, but couldn't move or make a sound no matter how hard he tried. The sharp clear pain tortured the magician horribly, relentlessly assaulting his mind with unbearable agony.
He opened his mouth and bolted awake, letting out a terrified scream. He pulled his hands up to feel his neck, but they were caught harshly by the chains. He looked down frantically, sobbing from relief when his throat was still intact.
The initial burst of happiness faded quickly; Mahaad's wounds began to throb and ache. Well, he sighed; at least he had a few moments of release. He looked around the room, but Bakura had left so he resigned himself to hanging from his chains again.
The priest hadn't gotten any better at restraining himself. He found his mind continued to wander to his tormentor Bakura's misdeeds done to him, and all that might still happen. Who knew what vile suffering that would be inflicted on him next! He felt himself start to panic again, but by clenching his fists and closing his eyes, he thankfully managed to control his fear for now. Sweat beaded the priest's face as his breathing slowed to normal.
"I just have to keep calm. I just have to control myself." He exhaled slowly and grunted as a particularly graphic vision of Bakura slicing the priest open assaulted his mind. "Why am I so bad at this? Why am I so afraid!" He pounded his fist against the wall in frustration.
Why did Bakura hate him so much? And the Pharaoh too. That thief said something about him committing horrible atrocities... He couldn't mean the creation of the Millennium items... Could he? No. How could he even know about that? There's no way that he could. But... If that's not what he was talking about then what was it?
Intense pain abruptly bombarded his senses in the middle of the thought, with wave over wave overpowering him and his mind. He couldn't think. All he could do was clench his fists and grit his teeth in frustration and agony while that awful pain enveloped him.
It was so frustrating, not being able to do anything but hang there and bear the torture given to him. And it seemed so much more agonizing than ever before, the priest couldn't even move. Was the pain getting worse, or was the priest growing weaker? What would he do if he couldn't withstand the pain any longer?
The attack began to fade after a few minutes, but it felt like hours to the tormented priest. He slowly regained his awareness, and started to shiver in fear that these attacks would become common. It would be so much worse if he had to manage with his many wounds already with his mental suffering.
After a few moments he managed to compose himself and returned to his previous pondering of Bakura's motives. He must be upset about it... There's nothing else that would make somebody so desperate for revenge that was a pharaoh's doing. But, it wasn't a pharaoh who ordered that to happen anyways. That thief must think it was Aknamkanon's doing. It would explain why he hates the pharaoh and us priests so much. But, how does he know this? Who is he?
His head throbbed in unison with his aching body. Ugh, why did it have to hurt to think too. Would it just keep getting worse like this? He had to stop himself before he caused another panic attack.
How had he become this? So weak now he couldn't even barely think without the fear of getting thrown into another terrible attack growing inside of him. He hated how pathetic he was. This time he didn't even bother to dwell on what he had turned into; he didn't even have the willpower to do that. His fear had enveloped him and made him into a worthless, empty shell of his former self. Bakura had done the worst thing he could have done, he desecrated Mahaad's own mind, his sanctuary.
As if on cue the thief entered the room, but this time he wore an unpleasant scowl on his face. Bakura strode up and smashed Mahaad's already broken nose, stunning the poor magician before he could react.
"I'm not happy priest." He emphasized this by ramming his elbow into Mahaad's ribcage repeatedly. "Your Pharaoh and his friends tried to kill me. They almost got away with it too." He kicked his foot into the priest's crotch which was met with a load groan.
"You know, he's a little clever, but not clever enough. Because when he fails, you suffer." He grabbed the magician's throat and started choking him. He held this tight grip for a few moments before he let go and allowed Mahaad gasp for breath. "No, I'm not letting you get off that easily this time. It's much too early for that."
"Bakura," Mahaad managed to sputter through his pain. "I need... to tell you something."
"Oh? The pathetic weakling has something to say eh? Come on, spit it out." He drove his fist into the priest's stomach. "Oops."
The priest moaned with the air driven out of his lungs. He fought back hard against his darkening vision and dulling mind, determined to tell Bakura he had made a mistake. After a few torturous moments of struggling for air, sweet relief flowed into his lungs, and his determination was renewed.
The magician as he determinedly tried to control himself enough to speak again through his pain. The thief seemed vaguely interested as he saw the efforts the magician was going through to talk. Usually the magician didn't bother, he just gave up a while ago and just took the torment.
After a few more aching moments, Mahaad managed to get out, "Bakura, you're making a mistake."
"Oh, I'm the one making the mistake now am I? I think you've got it backwards."
"No," Mahaad tried to take a deep breath and was assaulted by a coughing fit, ejecting a few droplets of blood in the process. After a moment he gasped, out "The Pharaoh, Aknamkanon... Didn't know about the slaughter of that village."
The thief's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about magician."
Mahaad fought back against his body, it was increasingly difficult to talk. "It was all... His brother. Died from grief after... After he found out. Didn't know about... Creation of Millennium-" Mahaad started to cough again; this time much more blood came out.
Bakura blinked a few times and grabbed the priest by the chin, forcing him to look up at him. "So the great Aknamkanon was ignorant about the whole thing?"
Mahaad made a slight nodding motion; it was all he could manage to do.
The thief swallowed, blinking a few more times and stared at the wall for a few moments before his attention snapped back to Mahaad. "So I suppose you're hoping I'll spare you from torture now that your great Pharaoh is innocent?"
The priest didn't respond.
"I asked you a question." He released Mahaad's head and kicked upwards, stopping the foot a few inches before it hit his face.
He nodded with shut eyes as fresh salty tears rolled down his face.
Bakura balled his fists and stood there for a moment. "Well guess what priest. I don't care."
Mahaad opened his eyes and stared at Bakura with the utmost expression of despair and fear.
The foot collided with the priest's face, sending fresh waves of pain to him and a new stream of blood flowed down his nose.
"As far as I'm concerned the Pharaoh should be responsible for his underlings' actions. He was ignorant, but he should have known than to trust someone else blindly! Even if his brother deceived him, Aknamkanon is responsible for the slaughter of my village, 99 people! Yes that's right. I was a child in the village when they were brutally used as sacrifice to make these damned Millennium Items." He pointed at the ring he was wearing.
"You see, somebody's got to pay for this. You can't expect murders to go unpunished can you? And you know, even if you had nothing to do with it, you're still a servant of the Pharaoh, and as I can tell, pretty close with him. If an innocent has to suffer to get revenge, well... What's one life to 99? It's nothing, right? Nothing, nothing, nothing! Just like you're nothing, you worthless excuse for a priest!"
He really was insane! He was going to kill him. Mahaad knew it. The thought terrified him more than anything else had.
"B-Bakura," he gasped, his voice quavering even more as he suffered a fresh onslaught of pain. "Isn't there... Another way? Why hurt... Innocent..." He started coughing again.
"Another way other than killing innocent people like yourself and your Pharaoh, correct?" His voice rose. "You think that you shouldn't suffer for what somebody else did right? Well you are as guilty as the Pharaoh. You had power, but you didn't use it to save anyone except your precious Pharaoh." He started to shriek hysterically, "And anyways, isn't that what life is all about? Suffering for the cruelty of others?"
Mahaad tried to speak but his mind succumbed to the pain. He wanted for the agony to stop so much; the priest was so helpless, he couldn't do anything about it. His frustration and hatred for his insane tormentor came out in a pathetic moan; it was all he could do before his vision started to fade.
Bakura saw the priest start to droop and fall off into unconsciousness, but slapped Mahaad's face, jolting him back as he shouted, his face twisted with rage. "I'm not through with you magician! Don't you dare try to get away from me! You're mine until I'm done with you!"
Mahaad fell into deep despair, cursing that he was robbed from the sweet release of unconsciousness from his misery. Why couldn't he be free of his tormentor, why couldn't he be free of his constant suffering?
The thief slapped the magician's face over and over again, and began to laugh wildly as if having the time of his life.
He really had lost it, but Mahaad couldn't even react anymore to Bakura's hysterics. He was paralyzed completely from fear and pain. Oh how he longed to be able to give the thief the revenge he deserved. Why couldn't he force himself to move? To do anything? He just wanted to give up. To close his eyes and forget all that the thief had done.
But, wait, he felt something deep inside him, a warm spark that started to grow. Was it... How could... Yes, it was his magic! He felt his magic begin to ever so slowly return to him. It was such a wonderful relief that he was finally getting his magic back. He became oblivious to Bakura's hurled insults and physical abuse, so overjoyed at his chance to fight back finally appearing to him. Yes, yes, he could feel alive again. How he had longed for the presence of magic again.
He started coughing up blood again, but after a few spasms a small smile of anticipation grew on his face that he finally could enact his revenge on his tormentor. He finally had a chance.
Bakura saw the smile on the priest's face and became even more furious. "What are you smiling at? You think this is funny? You filthy RAT! That is IT!" He slammed his fist into the priest's face as hard as he could. He drew his knife out and impaled it deep into Mahaad's stomach. He let out piercing crazed shrieks of laughter as he jerked the knife out and stabbed deep into the priest again and again.
He couldn't do it. It was just a false hope. One last chance for revenge, gone. Mahaad had one final thought as he felt himself slip into the icy embrace of death; "Forgive me my Pharaoh, I... I have failed you Atem."