See? We're starting to update pretty regularly! *g* This next chapter's full of action, horror, and fun, so we hope you guys like it! We'll see where Pegasus is and how Duke and Seto plan to solve The Great Hobo Mystery. But first, responses…
darklight – yup, Mokuba's back and ready to try fixing this whole mess, though how he plans to do that is anyone's guess. I mean, the kid is so cute! I don't think he'd be able to scare away any ghosts with those big blue eyes and bushy haircut. We're glad you enjoyed the chapter, late as it was. We're trying to remedy our habitual lateness in that regard *s* Yugi's so easy to make fun of for being short – it's hard for everyone else to look up to him that way. Hehehe… But evil Tea? I don't know about that … who'd take the girl seriously? What's she gonna do, talk me to death? Serve me bad burgers?
Wingweaver Hope – Of course he woke up! Even he can't nap forever in a fic like this. We figured if we tortured his brother enough he'd come around. *eg* You've gotta feel sorry for Yugi in those snowshoes, man! You liked that line about Kaiba too, huh? *g* We laughed about that one for a solid hour I think. But don't tell what redrum means!! It's against the rules to let the characters in on writer's secrets, you know. As for the book, if someone burned it I'm sure things could improve, the trouble is that Seto's such a loner nobody knows about it! He's the only one with an Overlook Hotel Ghost Companion.
SW – Awww, thanks! Hehehe, and now that the Pegasus part is up I'm sure you'll like it better … or at least I hope so. *crosses fingers* *tries to imagine Pikas on a sugar high* Wow, that's a scary image! Definitely Overlook-worthy! *L* And Pegs is back, dear! He's right over there waiting for the show to start in that cute patient way all his own.
Leland1 – Well he's finally back in this chapter so enjoy! *s* I don't think he knows what he's up against though …
Queen-of-Demon-Dragons – Isn't crazy Kaiba deliciously hilarious and scary all at once? He should be scared more often, it's greatly amusing. We can't answer anything, I'm afraid, but don't worry! We're working round the clock to provide all your answers in a timely fashion. *s*
Myotismon13 – Don't tell them that! *glances about to make sure the chars weren't around* Well you're lucky they didn't hear. Don't spoil the fun; we want to see how they get out on their own, don't we? No help from the peanut gallery. *s* We figured Seto was the anal sort to even make sure the creases line up on all his pants in the suitcase. *sigh* He's such a weirdo, but a likeable weirdo. Yugi in the pikachu jacket is priceless – we figure he should keep it as a souvenir.
Rinaidran Warrior – Wow, a whole fan club in one response! What lucky writers we be! *g* Glad you liked the Mokuba Yoda part. Tristan watches too many movies it seems. An awesome chapter? Aww, thanks so much! But really, the fun will continue with the action that is to come. Just wait and see. *wicked smile*
Lena holds Buki at gunpoint until she hands over the laptop and then squirts her with the water gun. "Heehee! You're just too easy, Buki!"
angelkohaku – Don't read while you're home alone! You'll end up like that McCulkey kid and turn your house into a veritable funhouse. *g* Actually that might be kind of fun… Oooh! I get a Chibi Kaiba for a month! *grabs up frightened chibi Kaiba and hugs him till his face is blue* Oh, sorry kiddo, you're just so adorable! Oh no! Not the barrage of fluffy pink elephants! And I'm not even drinking! *s* We're typing away as fast as humanely possible to produce the highest quality fic out there, so we're glad you enjoy it! *hugs*
Mimiru – Red rum, red wine, it's all the same when you're as tipsy as that guy. *looks around to make sure Buki didn't hear that* Lol, if Duke and Kaiba run into him they'll probably think it's Joey playing puppy again. *s*
DarkFoxy – Well, we're trying to remedy the whole long absences part. Apologies for keeping you on the edge of your seat for so long but these chars are really picky. Seto gives me odd looks whenever he sees me drooling in his direction, but what does he expect from an obsessed writer like me? I suppose the Overlook just isn't the best place for a vacation… *s* (Kaiba rules – woo hoo!)
BlackHoleSun – Hey now, you shouldn't be frightening that kid so much! He's got enough voices in his head besides having living ones too. *s* Not dead, huh? *shrug* Just make sure Mokuba doesn't find that out – as long as he thinks you're a ghost, that's all that matters. *rubs hands together deliciously* Muahahahaha!
Saisaishi – Aw, just find Yami and leave? This is a horror fic, it can *never* be that simple! *s*
soccerGoalie - *stares at puppy dog face* Uh oh, it looks like soccerGoalie's been contaminated by the Joey comments! *s* "I'm not psycho, I'm just…different. ^_~" Well then you fit in just fine with us! *s*
Chibi Arwen – No need to worry, Chibi Arwen, we're actually rather forgiving to our readers (Seto: Too bad they're not as forgiving to the characters. *rubs backside where he landed from falling down flight of stairs*) Got another friend hooked on the fic, huh? *s* That makes us happy! It's always nice to hear that we have more addicts – I mean readers. *s*
Have fun with this next update, guys! It's fun, exciting, albeit a bit disturbing toward the end. Keep your PKE readers ready, fright-seekers, it looks like we'll be getting some high readings. *s*
Lena & Kabuki
*****
Chapter 17:
The torrential snow outside seemed like a curtain to Pegasus' anxious gaze. The airport café was crowded and unbearably warm, the air damp with humidity as frustrated passengers of all shapes and sizes sought out coffee, tea, and hot chocolate to warm wind chilled hands and dispositions. Through the frosted plate glass windows, one could observe the evidence of escalating blizzard conditions. The sun had been overpowered by voluminous storm clouds that had swept in without much warning from the weather advisories. The snow had hit the airport hard, freezing runways and blocking all traffic in an unprecedented amount of time. In the distance, the road into the city beckoned, slicked with snow and perilous sheets of ice. Street lamps were dim and struggling to be seen as the wind howled through tree branches outside of the packed building. Families and businessmen alike were forced to spend the night at the airport if they were planning a connection flight, and only the boldest of taxis were lined up almost out of sight down the crowded entrance road. Pegasus and Croquet had been aboard the last flight allowed permission to land.
The silver-haired owner of Industrial Illusions sighed, watching in dismay as the steam from his cup of Kahlua-spiked coffee parted for the slight breeze of breath he'd made. He lifted the Styrofoam to his mouth, generous lips parting as he sampled the beverage. It was too weak, needed more cream, and the liquor was scarcely present, but in his current state of mind Pegasus paid little attention to the triviality of such mediocre beverages. He leaned back in the booth, hiding in the deep cushion and allowing his single eye to slide closed. He allowed the world to recede, the shuffling and bickering of the multitude of people dampening and falling away as he calmed his mind and began to focus his energies. He wasn't sure if he was close enough to communicate with Mokuba, but if the boy was strong enough to give a man a convulsion at a distance of over a hundred thousand miles, surely he would pick up the thread and take the opportunity to communicate. Pegasus was by no means as powerful or focused as he had been with the aid of the Millennium Eye, but he did retain many of the same basic psychic abilities. Psychically, he voiced a weak tentative cry, focusing on the youngest Kaiba brother with all his strength …
He was jarred from the attempt by a sudden blow to his chest and the distinct image of an aged, decaying stone wall filled his mental vision. There was a sound, something like laughter from numerous persons, and Pegasus had an instant to feel insulted before he was struck again, forced away from the place where he knew the boy was located. The silver-haired man gasped, opening his eye wide with shock. He'd broken out in a cold sweat in the short time he'd been under the trance, and his fingers were clutching the table, his knuckles white as bone. He took another shaky breath and leaned back, slumping forward with his head in his hands. It was worse than he'd thought. The Overlook was incredibly powerful, but how had that happened? It hadn't been that way when he'd left the group of high school students not two days ago. He took a generous swallow from his cup to ease the quaking of his insides. Ever since Mokuba's last outburst on the plane, Pegasus hadn't heard so much as a whimper from the frazzled child's mind. Hell, he preferred the mental shrieks of panic more than the chilling silence he was forced to deal with now. And if the hotel, or some force within it, was able to push his own mind away while managing to deal a fierce mental attack, it stood to reason that Mokuba might have attempted another call only to have it intercepted. The silence was worse than any horrific vision or physical manifestation the child could send -- at least then Pegasus knew what was going on, and now the poor man's ever-active imagination was having a thrill-ride with thoughts of what could be happening within the perilous hallways of the Overlook Hotel.
Pegasus stared into the caramel-tinted liquid within his cup, swirling it in circles as his thoughts moved back to the distressed message he'd last received from the young boy. ::Please! You've gotta help me! It's Seto!:: The Creator of Duel Monsters closed his eye against the surge of emotion he remembered feeling, the panic, the fear, and more than anything else, the image he'd seen of Seto Kaiba. It was almost as though someone had taken a photograph, so crisp and clear was the sight. He couldn't be certain if it was real or some fantastic imaginary scene that had somehow crept into the terrified boy's mind, but the lightless shadowed eyes of the Duelist Champion and the bloody gleam of an axe gripped in his pale hands made another cold sweat break out on the silver-haired man's brow. If Kaiba had hurt… or even killed anyone, how could Pegasus ever live with himself knowing there was blood spilt by his hands? Sure, he'd captured souls in his lifetime and ridiculed duelists like Bandit Keith in the dueling arena, but never had he been forced to deal with a guilty conscience on such an extreme level. He'd never killed anyone – were Cecelia alive she would be proud of him in that respect at least. Was the image Mokuba had sent him real or was it simply the effects of the child's overactive imagination? It would be nice to finally reach the damned hotel and find it was all simply Mokuba's idea of a joke. But somehow, Pegasus doubted it.
Placing the cup on the table, he put a hand to his forehead and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. He turned his attention away from the snowy reminder of his foolishness outside and onto the dispute Croquet was having with a smartly dressed young woman behind one of the counters just beyond the café. What in the world was the bodyguard's problem and why hadn't they left already? They were quickly running out of time, and though Croquet had made his displeasure known about his employer's grievous mistake, he was still taking his ever-loving time arranging for some transportation. Pegasus wondered if Croquet took this much time accomplishing everything he did. If it was his own life at risk, would he still be arguing with some prissy woman in a short skirt? He had to wonder if this was the reason Croquet's past three wives had insisted on divorce. Personally, he'd about had it with the bodyguard's lack of spontaneity; time was growing short. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Pegasus stood and sauntered up to the counter. He struck a seductive pose as he leaned over the tabletop, cradling his chin in his hands and giving the young girl a heart-stopping debonair smile as he made direct eye contact. The woman gave a surprised gasp and then, flustered, returned with exaggerated attention to her original customer. Pegasus smirked inwardly: this act always got them.
"Mr. Crockets –"
The grey-haired man veritably snarled; his composure very nearly lost as he rumbled shortly, "Croquet. Like the game."
"I'm sorry, it's a strange sort of –"
"Just give me the information."
The girl snorted in a most unladylike fashion, glancing at her glowing monitor with a sour expression. "Well I'm sorry, Mr. Croquet, but if you want a taxi, you're going to have to wait for one outside. It's not a manner of funds sir; it's a matter of room. Everyone else has to wait for transportation, and we simply can't specially order a taxi just for you." The woman crossed her arms in irritation, pouting her glossy lips and narrowing her hazel eyes. How defiant she was! Pegasus beamed, turning curiously to see what his bodyguard would do in the face of such a powerful adversary. Even in such dire circumstances, he couldn't resist a bit of fun.
The mustached man puffed deeply on his cigarette and shoved his left hand deep into the pocket of his black trench coat. "Look, Missy, we need a way to get out of here, and we don't have time to wait around for those idiot taxi drivers to get down the street! Don't you realize who I represent here? Haven't you ever heard of the multinational company Industrial Illusions?" At the woman's blank stare, Croquet's jaw clenched, tightening on the butt of his poor cigarette mercilessly. "Listen up little girl, if you don't arrange for some transportation, I'll have to ask to see your supervisor!" As cool and collected as Croquet had been on the flight into Tokyo, he was quickly losing his patience with this slip of a girl. Pegasus couldn't help but smile as he saw that the calm façade the bodyguard usually wore like a life jacket had finally slipped, if only for a few moments. It took quite an effort for the Creator of Duel Monsters to suppress his laughter at the ridiculous sight.
The woman blew a rather large bubble with her lavender chewing gum, popped it and then slid the gunk back between her glittered lips, chewing loudly in her annoyance. "Uh-huh. Well, let me see…" the woman clicked her lacquered plastic fingernails upon the tiny keyboard, a crease deepening between her eyebrows as she sought a way to escape the older man's glare.
"Don't worry about it, my dear." Pegasus decided to speak up, earning a slight grunt of frustration from Croquet as the tall silver-haired duelist smiled gallantly at the woman behind the counter. His smile broadened as a rose blush crept over her small face – this would be easier than he thought. Without losing eye contact, he reached over the counter and deftly turned her monitor around, flashing a final grin before scanning for suitable transportation on his own. After all, if Croquet's brute force couldn't help them, perhaps a smiling face and a bit of outside manipulation would take them further. Pegasus no longer possessed the Millennium Eye, but there were many ways to get what he wanted in the great wide world. Croquet rolled his eyes, backing away from the counter to turn and take a nice long draught on his nearly finished cigarette.
"Ah, what about this? These look free…" he trailed one elegant finger down the screen, arching one fine silver brow at the woman.
"Oh those?" She turned the monitor back, realizing a bit too late that it probably wasn't a good idea to allow guests to finger her equipment. "But ... but those are especially reserved, sir."
"For whom?" He turned and made a wide sweep of the room with an outstretched arm. "Really, dear, do you think any of these idiots know how to operate a snowmobile?"
"Well, um, just in case the police need them, they're in storage."
"Come now, let's be intelligent about this," Pegasus waved the idea away like a piece of bad fruit. "If the police so desperately needed snow mobiles, do you really think they'd come all the way to the airport? Wouldn't they be stored 'closer to home' so to speak?"
"Well, I guess so…"
"And how would they get here? I mean, logic dictates they'd need some machine for crossing the snow, and if they already had those, then why would they need the ones the airport has so cleverly chosen to squirrel away?"
"I don't know, really …"
"Great, it's settled then! Where do we go?"
"Oh, um, downstairs, in sublevel two … I think. But, I don't know for sure if it's okay for you to take them or not. Could you wait until my supervisor comes back? She's on coffee break, but she should be here in a few minutes." The woman craned her head backwards, hoping to spy her boss through the throng of bustling crowds.
"No, thank you, my dear, I'm afraid we're in a bit of a rush. I think we can find them on our own." He swept the girl's hand into his own and brought it to his lips, "You've been so kind. Tip her well, Croquet."
The blush swept across her pale cheeks again and as Pegasus moved toward the elevator, he couldn't help but smirk once more at Croquet's gaping expression. The man probably thought his employer would do anything to get what he wanted. He giggled a little as he watched the older man shove money at the girl before following, his thick sun glasses hanging precariously on the bridge of his nose. "You mind telling me what that was all about, Sir?"
Pegasus stretched his long arms, rolling his shoulder blades cheerfully. "We needed them, didn't we? A car won't work with this weather, and a helicopter would probably be a lost cause in such a storm." Pegasus nodded to the maintenance workers and other staff as he pressed the down button for the elevator labeled Employees Only. When a janitor gave him a quizzical stare the silver-haired man ignored him.
"And snowmobiles are a better idea?" Croquet allowed his employer to pass into the elevator first, following before any of the other people could approach. He glared at them with such iciness that the five waiting passengers silently deigned to take the next one. When the doors finally slid closed, Croquet sighed. "We could freeze to death, Sir."
"We won't. I have you around, don't I?" He gave the older man a sly grin. "I'm sure you won't let anything happen to us."
"Things don't always work according to plan, Max. You of all people should know that, if I may be so bold." Croquet pushed his sliding sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he gave Pegasus an exasperated look.
The taller man snorted in irritation, raising his chin slightly in a haughty expression. "A bit too bold, Croquet. Mind your tongue." Pegasus sighed, his cocky façade dropping. He allowed his sole visible eye to slide shut as his shoulders slumped. "We have to get to them, Croquet. No matter what, I cannot allow them to die on my conscience."
"I'd hope you wouldn't allow a group of kids to die under any circumstances, Sir, whether they be on your conscience or not." Croquet gave his companion an arrogant smile. Despite the silver-haired man's nonchalant attitude, the bodyguard never doubted his employer's integrity.
"That's enough, Croquet. You can lecture me later. Right now, we have to get to them as quickly as possible. We've already wasted enough time here." There was a long moment of silence. The elevator dipped lower into the bowels of the airport, descending to sublevel two with dreadful slowness. When Pegasus next spoke his voice was low, almost a whisper and without a trace of his infamously frivolous fun. "I need you to help me, Croquet. Please … I've messed up too much already. Those kids are in danger, and if we don't make extreme haste, I'm afraid there won't be anything we can do for them."
The older man sighed, pulling his jacket around the secured holster at his hip. He'd almost forgotten why he'd remained with eccentric millionaire for so long. It was only when the stakes were high did the man's true nature creep out. Sometimes there was anger, sometimes madness, but occasionally the ashes of a hopeless romantic emerged, determined to do the right thing at all costs. He knew that he would follow Pegasus to hell and back just to see that caring young man emerge every so often. "Ok, Max. You win, but we'll need some supplies."
Pegasus nodded as the elevator doors parted, revealing the dark coldness of the subterranean level. The metallic glimmer of the snowmobiles was visible in the far corner of the garage, while numerous other machines and mechanical parts littered the concrete floor and steel shelves. In a far corner there was a cabinet labeled 'In Case of Inclement Weather'. "I'm sure our dear lady-friend upstairs wouldn't begrudge us some supplies..."
*****
Duke knelt before the door to Room 217, peering at the dead bolt curiously. "All the suites are locked on this floor for some reason. Tristan and I thought a key might help, but I guess we'll just have to pick it somehow." He grinned and fished through his pockets, not even noticing Kaiba's irritated sigh. "It's pretty old-school. I think I can work it loose with –"
"Let me handle it."
Duke looked at the other boy, eyes narrowing in confusion when he noticed Kaiba's disturbing smile. "What do you have in mi—"
Without another word, Seto had lifted one leg up, his knee nearly touching his chest as he kicked. His booted foot collided with the door, knocking it off its hinges with a mighty slam. Duke stared gaping as Kaiba merely smirked. "Ladies first."
Duke glared at the imposing S&M fashion plate before stepping cautiously into the spacious bedroom. Unlike the rest of the hotel, the furniture in Room 217 didn't appear old or worn in any way. The luscious silken drapes were pulled closed over the great bay windows and a large queen-sized bed stood haughtily in the center of the room covered in plush inviting pillows and a great woolen comforter. The walls and upholstery were made up mostly of whites and creams, almost a disgusting contradiction to the darkened corridors and old paisley carpet of the hallway the students were forced to frequent. The drapes were a beautiful silk and the two armchairs that flanked either side of the bed hadn't even been covered in plastic before the hotel was abandoned. The clean white velvet cushions stood elegantly against the cruelty of age and mildew – it was like opening an Egyptian tomb, airtight and sealed for centuries with fruit and other offerings perfectly preserved. To Kaiba, it was altogether nauseating. The very thought that the person who had attacked his brother had kept this room as a home made Seto's blood boil.
"What a sham!" Duke exclaimed suddenly, drawing Kaiba's eyes away from the decadent splendor of the room and to his companion -- who was examining the curtains like a dealer in fine fabrics. "Can you believe Pegasus kept us out of here? Man, and here I thought it was gonna be all dusty and creepy! I'll have a couple of words to say to him once this weekend's over. Do you think all the rooms are like this? Jeez, we got the shitty end of the stick on that deal."
Seto rolled his eyes, taking a large stride over the remains of the door, the splinters scattered haphazardly from the breakage at the hinges. "If you say so, Duke. I suppose our hobo did choose some pretty nice accommodations. Let's just find him and get this over with. I'm certain he heard us enter the room."
Duke rolled his eyes, "Not my fault, I was trying to be stealthy."
"The less time Mokuba's left alone, the better."
Duke chose to ignore the fact that Tristan was with the younger Kaiba and nodded in reply, all seriousness as he tiptoed around the room like an inexperienced spy. As Duke made his way across the room, Kaiba decided to head in the direction farthest away from his companion as possible. As he made his way around the left side of the bed, vertigo washed over him in a wave that reminded him of the strange nausea he'd felt on the elevator the night before. He lost his balance to the twirling room, spinning on his heel for a minute as he regained his footing. He kneeled down slowly, attempting to clear the foggy haze that had covered his senses. He breathed in and out slowly, relieved as the world became clearer. As he stared at the blindingly white carpet, however, he noticed a darker patch beneath his feet. It was some type of strange liquid – perhaps the same substance that he'd found on Mokuba's pant legs. His eyes followed the trail up to a second doorway, partially hidden behind one of the velvet armchairs. He stood slowly, a fiery gleam entering his icy blue eyes. "Duke?"
Kaiba saw the red bandanna and black hair pop up next to the bed from the corner of his eye. "Yeah?"
"I'm going to check the bathroom. I want you to search that closet." He pointed behind himself with an angled thumb. "Think you can handle that?"
The verdant eyes narrowed a bit before Duke stood from his crouched position and began moving to the closet doors. "No problem. Just as long as you promise to stay out of trouble. You might have more to worry about in the bathroom than I would in a broom closet. Oh, but one question," Duke grinned cockily as he turned, emerald eyes betraying a brief gleam of confusion in his suspicious gaze. "How did you know that was the bathroom door and this was the closet?"
"What?" Kaiba was in no mood to sit through Duke's stupidity, his nostrils flared as he stared holes into the white bathroom door. He was barely registering the words of the other duelist, his every thought focused upon what could only be the place his quarry – the man who had hurt Mokuba – was hiding. Duke didn't repeat himself, and the silence was what eventually pulled Seto Kaiba back from his thoughts of vengeance. He flexed the fingers of his left hand, the muscles in his arm aching dully from the aggravation. He tore his eyes from the bathroom door and looked toward the waiting figure of Duke Devlin. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"The rooms." Duke pointed from one door to the other as he spoke, "How did you know that was the bathroom and this was the closet? I mean, it could be the other way around, you could be going into the closet and I could be going into the bathroom. I mean, it's not like you've ever been in this room." Duke's emerald eyes narrowed as his suspicion shone through in his words, "Or have you?"
"What does it matter?" Kaiba threw his arms into the air in frustration, "Fine, I'll take this door with the water trail, and you can stay in here and rot for all I care!" Seto was primed to enter the bathroom and catch the dirty bastard that had hurt his brother, but he wasn't about to stand for an accusation from Duke Devlin of all people. He spun to fully face Duke, all his rage focused now on the ebony-haired duelist.
"I'm just saying that it seems a bit odd to me. You go ballistic on me that first night and then you beat up poor Joey this morning. I mean, I don't particularly like the guy, but I'm not about to start pummeling the little puppy – that's animal abuse! And then when Tristan and I were up here before and we were chased into the medical room," Kaiba made no movement, only stared with the same dumbfounded yet disturbingly calm expression. "We never saw who was after us. Tristan said it was someone coming out of this room, though I didn't see anything. How do we know it wasn't you?"
Duke was shaking a little as the realization of his own accusations set in, that Kaiba might have staged every fright and accident that had happened. The blood on Kaiba's arm and head could be stage make-up … Duke had seen some of his special effects-loving friends pull off dramatic and realistic wounds with a brush, latex, and a little fake blood. Was it inconceivable that a rich guy like Kaiba who specialized in hacking into difficult computer systems had found out where they would be staying and had sent a team in to rig the Overlook to his own specifications like a madman's funhouse? The collapsing stairs, staring photographs – even the dogman could have been a vicious actor in a dogsuit. It would make sense then why the guy had seemed to vanish when Kaiba had approached. It didn't explain Mokuba's condition, but Duke's mind wasn't considering such sentimental possibilities. His mind latched onto the first reasonable explanation for the supernatural with the eagerness of a dog snatching fresh meat. He felt a twinge of fear flower in the back of his mind as he stared into the endless depths of Kaiba's rage-filled eyes. He didn't know why Kaiba would go to such lengths to put everyone in danger, but he didn't want to risk being the first murder victim. Duke Devlin was not one to lie back and let some psycho screw up his life. "And then we're attacked and cornered in that same room by a guy in a dog mask, and you just show up like some sort of savior to chase the psycho away? Nope, sorry, I don't buy it." Duke swallowed hard, his dry throat scraping painfully as he moved one hand slowly and subtly into his jacket, feeling for the cool handle of his only weapon. He'd originally thought it would only be useful as a lock pick, but watching the way Kaiba's undamaged arm twitched in anticipation, he was glad he hadn't revealed it to the other boy. If Duke savored anything in a battle, it was the element of surprise.
The silence hung for a long moment, until Kaiba took a deep breath. His eyes seemed to snap back to reality, as though someone had roused him from a deep slumber. He blinked, confused for a moment before focusing on Duke once more, a sneer pulling his lips back in a feral growl. "How dare you accuse me, Devlin. Do you think I'm to blame for your pathetic cowardice?" Kaiba snarled, pulling himself up into a straighter, more threatening posture.
Duke cleared his throat, his body rigid in outrage and fear. "You don't happen to have a dog mask, do you, Kaiba?" The ebony-haired duelist barely had the chance to gasp before Kaiba's verbal barrage began.
"You sniveling little bastard, how dare you!" Kaiba sneered, his icy blue eyes alight with some strange new energy. He could sense the other boy's mounting fear, practically scent it in the air, and the bicep of his good arm jumped, itching for a confrontation.
He moved forward as Duke scrambled backwards. The dark-haired boy brandished the switchblade dangerously, his eyes cold as he held one splayed hand to the cream and beige wallpaper. "Back the hell off, Kaiba!"
Seto paused in shock for a moment before a low chuckle emanated from his throat. "You're way out of your league here, Devlin. Go ahead and pull a knife on me if you think it'll help."
Duke growled, jabbing the knife forward a little. "I mean it! Don't think I won't use it!"
"You? Hurt me? Oh please." Kaiba stepped forward, forcing Duke to back away, sideways this time and toward the violated doorframe. "You couldn't cut your way out of a paper bag let alone lay a finger on me. Do you honestly think a pathetic weakling like yourself could ever hope to frighten me? Don't you think we're both a bit old for bedtime stories?"
Duke glanced to the doorway, then back at Kaiba again. He could bolt for it, but it might not do any good. Kaiba had the height advantage, and no matter how wounded he appeared, Duke had already seen the guy best Joey with a torn up arm. He wasn't sure if he could outrun the former Duelist Champion, the guy had the physique of a track runner. "Stay back! I won't be held responsible if you get hurt, you crazy bastard!"
"Actually, I bet you'd enjoy it."
"It'd be in self-defense!"
Kaiba leaned in, smirking confidently, his eyes dark and hooded beneath his mask of hair. "Go on. Try me. Give me a good excuse to rip you apart."
"You wanna do this yourself? Fine! Screw you, you sonofabitch!" Duke's legs were shaking so badly he stumbled more than ran to the door, and then made a mad dash down the hallway, his footfalls echoing down the corridor.
Kaiba chuckled, ignoring the pathetic Pegasus-lover's frantic escape. "Whatever you say, Devlin. Unfortunately, I can't be bothered with you right now – I have Mokuba to think of – no hobo will stand in my way," the owner of Kaiba Corp's voice echoed in the empty room, heedless of the fact that he was alone.
Kaiba moved away from the shattered doorway, unable to hold back the laughter that shook his shoulders. Confidently he took hold of the cold pearl-white handle of the bathroom door, pushing gently against its weight. The hinges gave easily, without even a squeak of age as Kaiba entered and flipped the light switch nearby. The fluorescent lights flickered to life, albeit a bit slowly, and Seto had to blink a couple of times before his eyes adjusted completely to the gleaming white that surrounded him. For some reason, he immediately felt as though he were invading someone's privacy, so very clean and spotless the room had been kept. With his dusty trench coat and wounded arm, he suddenly felt like a dog entering the crisp clean kitchen after a long day of rolling in the mud.
Seto let out a nervous laugh as he stepped inside the bathroom, his eyes immediately fixing on the claw foot porcelain bathtub that stood at the opposite end of the room. The thin sheet of shower curtain was drawn against onlookers and try as he might the owner of Kaiba Corp couldn't deny his curiosity and yearning to discover what lay behind it. Kaiba didn't see anyone there, but he thought it best to explore every possibility – he didn't want to give his prey any option of slipping past him. He moved slowly forward, the air for some reason feeling incredibly thick and warm, like the bath he'd drawn for Mokuba earlier that day. The spacious bathroom was unnaturally quiet – no dripping faucet or electronic buzzing from the fluorescent light fixtures to invade the all-consuming silence that surrounded him. He reached within a foot of the shower before he stopped momentarily, doubting for a moment if he should continue.
More than likely there wouldn't be anything on the other side of the curtain, just a drain and maybe even a paper-covered bar of soap that had never seen use, but there would certainly not be anything of interest. Yet if that were the case, why was he drawn to it so? Kaiba wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his dirty jacket, hesitating only a moment before reaching forward in one fluid motion and dragging the shower curtain aside, the metal rings clanging against the pole in anger at the violation of silence. Seto stared inside, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes took in the empty tub.
Indeed it was empty. There was nothing there, not even the bar of soap he'd anticipated. What had he been expecting? What had he thought he would find? He couldn't say, to be honest, and then again he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know. He let out the breath he had unknowingly held the entire time and turned to exit the bathroom. The perpetrator was not here, that much was certain. Yet if he wasn't in the bedroom then where could he be? He began to think about the closet still unguarded within the room thanks to Duke's cowardice, and he cursed himself for his own stupidity.
He took long strides back, intent on reaching the room before the hobo could take advantage of his absence. He reached for the door; somehow it had nearly closed while he'd been exploring the vacant room. His hand had just closed around the doorknob when he froze, hearing the metallic sweep of the shower curtain rings across the bar once again – distinctively pulled, not fallen or broken like he could have expected. His heart leapt into his throat once more and Seto swallowed hard against the dry lump.
There was no one there – he'd just looked! The bathtub had been empty, the bathroom had been empty. There was no window, no alternate entrance, not even any evidence of a secret passage. Hell, even the vent had been too small for someone to sneak in. The cabinets were too tiny for even a shrimp like Yugi to fit in, barely providing enough storage space for a towel. In fact, the room had been so silent when he'd entered, that he would have surely heard the perpetrator breathing. It was so simple but maddening for a scientific and meticulous mind like Seto Kaiba's. He of all the duelists stood less of a chance against the true power of a supernatural force – a force that he, in a brief instant, now knew Pegasus could never control or conjure. His thoughts were desperately rational, trying to latch onto anything, yet failing every attempt. For a long time he stood, helplessly riveted and paralyzed by his own inability to wrap his mind around the only possible explanation for the sound.
He knew he probably should have run and left the room right then, but Seto was never one to show cowardice when it came to such things. He didn't believe in ghosts, he didn't believe in the supernatural, though an event had just occurred. For Seto Kaiba, an idea had to be sampled, tested, and proven before it could become fact — like a scientific hypothesis or a well-built machine. There was no way that he would turn from the sound or from his own insatiable desire to understand. He thought of the creature in the basement, the skulking thing that had attempted to grab his hand – the thing he had assumed was a mechanical monstrosity created by Pegasus for some sick amusement. He hadn't seen that creature again – in fact he hadn't even thought about it consciously in a while, and a sudden hope filled him that finally he'd be able to prove that Pegasus' little haunted house was a façade. Seto turned around slowly to face whatever had made the noise, determined to face whatever was so intent on terrorizing him. His cocky attitude fell away, though, in an instant. His eyes widened as he glimpsed the shadowy silhouette of a person reclining leisurely as though they'd been behind the thin cream shower curtain all day.