A/N: These stupid A/Ns are annoying to write, but I guess I should warn that the rating is going up. At first I thought I'd miss this part, but something's wrong with me today and I just couldn't help but write something sadistic. And what's writing worth if I don't put it up as a chapter? So, here it goes, the bloody demise promised in the end of last chapter.

Please R&R I need to know what you people think about this and weather I should continue it any further.

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The door of the kitchen was thrown open so hard that it had to have left a hole in whatever furniture it hit. The furious whitehead didn't really care, though.

Anger and rage stronger even than those he had felt towards the Pharaoh's damned father burned into his eyes and his fisted hands were trembling with the desire to beat that bastard to a plump.

Hew had realized that Ryo was late, but it was expected – the boy had so many responsibilities in school that it was amazing he ever came home.

So he hadn't cared when it got dark and Ryo wasn't back. It happened every once in a while, after all.

Instead of troubling himself with such thoughts he just laid on the couch in the darkening room waiting for the other one to return.

Ryo would usually be terrified when the Thief King suddenly spoke from his unmoving position hidden behind the back of the couch and get as shocked as to jump and start complaining afterwards, amusing the spirit.

But this time it had been his turn to be shocked.

Never had he expected his light to burst into the room with a look of complete fear and horror on his face and without even locking the door to rush to a hiding place.

That had been a first and it, for sure, was going to be a last if Bakura could help it.

And that, he could do.

Pulling the drawer with such force that almost sent it flying trough the room, he took the first knife he saw right out of it and checked if it was sharpened.

Good thing that the smaller boy cooked a lot and always needed a sharp knife around to cut things with.

'Splendid. That will do.'

With nothing but the knife in hand he exited the room and went right back in the living room. There, right next to the wall laid the figure of the unconscious man.

"Wake up, you useless piece of shit!"

A hard blow to his side was delivered with his last word as the man was kicked so hard that he rolled on the floor and stirred, clenching his side in pain.

Not even giving him time to go to his knees, Bakura grabbed a handful of his hair and started dragging him out of the house. Good thing it was this late and no one would get in his way or he might murder more people that he was supposed to – he was in the mood for it, too.

Being dragged by his hair, the man hardly managed to tag along with him, forced to use all fours at certain moments.

When he finally reached a secluded place – an alley where even a stray dog wouldn't dare to enter – hew threw the man against the wall and putting his foot against his chest applied enough pressure to force the breath out of him.

"May I ask what exactly you thought you were doing, you pathetic dog? Huh?"

Applying even more pressure, the albino hardly gave him chance to breathe, but he still managed to ask trough gritted with pain teeth:

"What… are you…"

"Me?" His dark eyes burned with that same anger from before as the words sounded more like hisses escaping his throat. "I'm just a demon and you're my pray tonight."

With that he let go of the knife so that it fell to the ground and taking his foot away the spirit got the person back to his feet by his hair and mercilessly punched him straight in the face until he was spitting blood and even his own mother wouldn't be able to recognize him.

He brought the other's left hand up and taking the knife again stabbed right trough his palm pinning it to the wall below.

A pained yell escaped from the man's throat as he did that, but it only served to fuel his sick satisfaction.

"That hurts, doesn't it?" he hissed darkly in the other's ear. "Don't worry it's going to hurt much more than that. I won't kill you so soon, no, not before I've done to you something a million times worse than what you did to my other half. I won't kill you before I made you pay for every scratch on him and for every tear you made him shred." His voice held menace greater than what a normal human could ever posses and every word sounded as if the devil himself had spoken it.

To prove his point, the King of Thieves landed a few punches to the others stomach and proceeded with kicking him time after time watching with a sadistic glitter in his eyes every time his body twisted under the pain of his hits.

Every single hit, every blow delivered to his body made Bakura's blood boil with the desire to cause more pain, to hurt some more, to break another bone, to form another bruise. His rage and anger flowed with his hits.

His cruel side had broken loose unlike any time before, breaking trough any possible boundaries of how far a person's sadism could go.

When he was tired of punching and kicking, the demon took the knife away, allowing the pitiful figure to sink to the ground and licked some of the blood off the blade.

Raising his hand above his head he rushed it towards the broken body beneath him and as hot blood was spilled on his clothes he continued stabbing time after time, until the mess underneath him could no longer be recognized as a human.

Tired and panting he let his hand fall next to his side as he took a step back. That should do it. If he could tell by the screams, the blood and the result of his madness, this was the cruelest murder he had ever pulled off and in a way that relieved him.

The bastard deserved nothing less. Maybe if there had been some way to keep him alive longer he should have done it only to inflict more pain on that pathetic human being, but his rage had taken over and he hadn't cared any more.

Bakura turned around and started walking out of the alley.

They would find him in the morning, but no one would be able to follow any traces that would lead to him. It was always like that. After all he wasn't the Thief King for nothing.