So, here's chapter two. Yeah, short chapter. I haven't been in the mood lately.
The next one will be longer, I hope.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Yu-Gi-Oh! and it's characters, this is purely fanmade and I gain no profit from this.
I already have this planned out; I just need to write it and upload it.
Read and review!
- zlae
CHAPTER 2 - FALSE:
Ryou was dying.
He knew it, and honestly, he wasn't really alarmed by it. After all, what would he leave behind for the world besides another decaying corpse contaminating the earth? Every time in this ethereal state, he would feel his mind fall apart by another fraction. How long had it been since he had fallen into this comatose state? Days? Weeks? Perhaps even years? How long, until he could escape this continuously changing place his mind inhabited?
Would he ever be able to escape? He imagined it now, an unknown prison kept on a high hill, isolated and yet still shown to the world. It was just a museum, to show off the freaks that inhabited it. He attempted to see himself rolling down the hill with a vibrant smile on his expressive face, delight in his bright eyes. His faceless friends would laugh along with him, no longer dirt-covered and scruffy; but clean and untainted. The rays of sunlight would trickle through the slight clouds as if in celebration; the sky would be blue and endless.
It was almost childlike in purity, and completely childlike in its naivety. He couldn't get the image of a number pasted on his striped, uniformed garb out of his mind.
He was no one, not even worthy of a name to call his own.
He was just a number, mourned for a moment and then forgotten.
He frowned. Every time he wanted to see himself taking off his shackles, it'd black out.
He continued to try, and he reached down to the shackles on his legs, attempting to pull them off. They weighed too much; he wasn't strong enough to create his own freedom. He sat down on the dying grass, frowning when he saw new handcuffs around his wrists. He flailed and flailed, wrenching his arms violently in an attempt to break them. But all that happened was a harsh vibration running through his bones, and his teeth chattered from the force. He snapped them apart again, and the only results were the bruises covering his too-pale skin.
"Kaito!" The woman yelled in shock, and Seto rushed to Ryou's body, his eyes widening as Ryou began flailing and bucking violently, his fingernails clawing at his arms. The heart monitor was spiking dangerously. Ryou was trying to rip the tubes out of his arm, and his fingers were clawed like talons; his eyes open and frantic, but not seeing anything. His pupils were small and extremely sensitive to the well-lit intensive care unit. Seto gripped the patient's arms and pushed them into the mattress, nodding at his assistant as she hesitantly retrieved some lengths of cloth stuffed into one of the drawers.
He noticed her hands were shaking.
"Go, do it!" He yelled, and she needed no further encouragement. She wrapped the cloth around the tubes protruding from his skin, and Seto let go.
"Give him anything that will calm him down," he commanded, and she did so immediately. Modifying the contents of Ryou's drip, she sighed in relief and left the patient by himself in the room, making sure to check on him often.
Seto winced and looked back at the monitor; it had returned to normal.
'Good.'
He stood and left. His brother needed him right now; this Ryou could wait. Nothing was more important than Mokuba.
Ever.
Ryou was lost again within the confines of his mind. Around him he saw an old street, with ghosts resembling bystanders. There was no sound besides his breathing, and even that felt too loud, as if it was purposely disrupting the eerie atmosphere.
"Who are you?" A deep voice demanded, and Ryou turned, confused.
In front of him stood a taller, more confident version of himself, and Ryou stood there with his mouth gaping open.
"Why the fuck are you in my—" The other man stopped then, and noticed. He was staring so intently that Ryou was feeling incredibly uncomfortable under his penetrative gaze. His chest wasn't even rising or falling; he was just looking, trying to make sense of the situation.
Ryou frowned; something about this man was so painfully familiar, but his mind was so disoriented that he wouldn't be able to remember anything at this current moment.
He opened his mouth to question who the man was, until the stranger rushed forward, slamming Ryou against a brick wall he hadn't known existed. His head jerked back from the force and smashed into the bricks, and he felt blood running down his white hair, staining it an impure colour.
"Why are you here?" He snarled, openly hostile and eyes screaming murder.
His oesophagus was being cut off, and he couldn't breathe properly, so his breaths came in long, shallow wheezes.
"What... are you… talking… about?" He managed to squeeze through, and his arms reached up in hopeless but desperate attempts at getting a lungful of air.
"You shouldn't be alive!" He yelled furiously, his hands pressing harder into Ryou's thin throat.
Ryou's limbs were getting heavier; his efforts of protest were becoming weaker.
"I thought my humanity had died a long time ago," the man whispered to himself, staring at the slumped figure with his eyes finally displaying the disbelief and confusion he felt.
Then Ryou's body gave way and he collapsed onto the dirty floor, breathing quick breaths through his unconscious state.
I don't know if any of you are interested in this, but here are some facts, thanks to Wikipedia:
"Pinpoint" pupils indicate heroin or opiate overdose, and can be responsible for a patient's coma.
A person in a coma may become restless, or seize and need special care to prevent them from hurting themselves. Medicine may be given to calm such individuals. Patients who are restless may also try to pull on tubes or dressings so soft cloth wrist restraints may be put on. Side rails on the bed should be kept up to prevent patient from falling.