Author's Note: I feel really accomplished in getting this chapter finished before having to go record a play. The introduction of more YGO characters will occur shortly after this chapter, though you may be surprised by the manner of the OC in meeting them... yeah. Warnings for this chapter: Disturbing themes, gore/violence/death, rape of a child, mild language, drug reference
"In fact, it was I who so politely removed the burden of your memories from you." The words played in my head, over and over, like a broken record. This man, Pegasus, had taken everything I knew away from me. A flutter of anger tore through my chest, and I gripped the chain links in front of me. I heaved, the motion causing my joints to burn in pain, but the emotion swelling in my head eased the anguish, and allowed me to concentrate on glaring at Pegasus, as though my stare could kill the man.
"You stole my memories? You're the reason I can't remember anything?" I pushed against the wire, urging it to give way, which it almost did. Pegasus backed up, giving me a pitiful look, which only caused my rage to flare again. I rammed my shoulder into one of the supports at the corner of the cage, and it surely must've bent about 10 degrees, at the least. Pegasus shook his head, and made a "tsk" sound with his tongue repeatedly. I would've hit the metal beam again, but my shoulder must've been previously injured, as it now burned in agonizing discomfort. Glancing down at the bare flesh, I witnessed a deep set of scabbed teeth marks, reopened by my banging against the cage. I shut my eyes, and gripped the injured area tightly.
"Yes. I am the reason for your missing memories," he admitted, shifting to examine me at a better angle. "But if you could please just be rational about it, I will return them to you, in time." I barely registered what he was saying, for it felt as though someone had just rammed a knife straight through my shoulder. I opened my eyes, gasping out loud because the pain was simply unbearable. Pegasus must've noticed that I was unable to pay attention to his speech, because he shortly after through a bottle through my confinement. I glanced at it, read the label, and then looked back up at him. "Painkillers, Oxycontin. And you have my word that they are nothing else. Just don't take more than two," he added, but much to his dismay, I had already swallowed four. I still clung to my wound, hoping that soon the drugs would take effect, and I'd feel nothing.
"Why did you take my memory away?" I groaned, leaning against my uninjured shoulder for support. Pegasus knelt before the cage again, retrieving the bottle from the pills. I would've pounced on his hand and quite possibly broken his wrist, if I'd found enough strength to move – which of course, I unfortunately had not.
"I needed a clean slate to work with, plain and simple. Your memory would've prevented you from completing the task I would have assigned to you. So, in order to maximize your chances for success, I simply wiped away all of that useless information." I felt the pain slowly fading away, though the suffering was far from over. I gasped lightly as I dared to move away from the cage wall, only so that I could look directly into Pegasus' eye. I took another heaving breath, and pressed by forehead against the chain links, minimizing the distance between us.
"You bastard," I whispered harshly. "Was it really something so important that you had to take away everything I knew?" He nodded slowly, pressing his forehead against mine on the wire; curses danced on the tip of my tongue. He pulled back his ebony hair, revealing his other eye, which to my surprise, was crafted of gold. It was intriguing to the point of my temporary distraction. I wanted to touch it for some strange reason, though the more rational portion of my brain prevented me from reaching out and doing so. He pointed solemnly to his golden eye.
"Using this," he began, "I was able to take your memory away. However, also using this eye, I have the ability to return your memories to you, as I see fit." Pegasus turned his head swiftly, allowing his hair to fall back into place over his artificial eye. "I will return them to you, if you complete the tasks I ask of you. Doesn't that seem fair?" A growl caught in my throat.
"No," I spat venomously. Well, perhaps I had revealed something about myself; I had a temper like none other. I consciously noted my observation before opening my mouth again. "If you have the power to return them to me, I demand you do so now!" I shook the fence separating us, and Pegasus was obviously shocked by my strength, as he quickly returned to standing position, and backed a few steps away. The pain in my shoulder was steadily dying away now, and I felt as though I really could break the barrier which separated us if I tried again now. Instead, however, my returning anger was interrupted by my captor's speaking.
"I'm afraid I can't do that. Your mission, and mine, would be ruined if I did," he said pointedly. He took up his cane again, and leaned heavily on it. "If you obey me, I will return your memories, one by one, until you hold the entirety of your past once again." I wanted to kill him, but it suddenly occurred to me that if I did, I would never know who I really was. Would I rather live a life shrouded in darkness, or a life under the complete control of this man, Pegasus? My silence earned another disturbing smile from the golden-eyed man. "There, that's better. Honestly, I hate to resort to violence, so it would be quite lovely if you could just listen to me," he purred. Judging by the changing expression on his face, a new thought had just dawned unto him. "Now, if I open this door, and you behave, I will return one of your memories as a reward."
I felt like a dog, obeying its master. Pegasus slipped a key into the padlock on my cage, and the door opened. I managed to stand, though it took much of my returning strength to do so. Silently, I passed through the cage's door, shooting a glare at Pegasus as I passed him, and watched him shut the door to the now-empty cage. I knew I wouldn't last much longer, taking into consideration the ache in my knees, so I eased myself onto the concrete floor. I lay on my side, watching Pegasus lean against one of the brown boxes.
"As promised," he commented, waving his hand. I saw a soft glow beneath his ghostly hair, and in the next instant, my entire body had gone rigid. A freezing sensation passed through my body, and I felt my head fall back, my eyesight gone the next second…
A memory…
A small girl was running around the dining table of an old, dusty house. She held a deck of cards in her hand, chanting in song the name of each monster which appeared on every card. A slightly older looking boy danced around the table with her, a similar deck of cards in his own hands. An older woman stood at the kitchen sink, laughing at the two children as she chopped vegetables for what appeared to be the family's dinner. A man, assumed to be the women's husband, sat at the dinner table, high-fiving the boy and girl every time they completed a lap around the table. His cheeks were rosy, and he had a comforting smile upon his maw.
The mother turned away from the counter, saying something over the children's laughter and play. She set out two plates of food on the table, and the children rocketed into their seats, pushing their decks of cards to the side of the table opposite them. They laughed and talked, and the mother soon joined her family. They ate together, exchanging tales of their days at work, and stories of all of the fun that had happened in kindergarten that day. Not one of them stopped smiling all through dinner. When at last they had finished, the young boy climbed into his father's lap, and listened as his father read him the daily news. The younger girl immediately went to her mother's side, drying each dish as her mother handed her clean ones, before placing them into a rack on the left side of the kitchen sink.
Breaking into the tranquility of the scene, there was a loud knock on the door. The family's father got up, gently setting the boy on his feet next to his little sister. He went to the door, and opened it wide. There was muffled speech. Finally, the words "No! Please!" sprung from the father's lips. There was gunfire. The two children began to scream and whine in panic, and the mother quickly grabbed them up and ran upstairs. The father lay motionless on the wooden floor, the blood slowly streaming from the center of his head down to its surface. Some people entered the house, two of the three stuffing valuable objects into bags, one of the three moving quickly up the stairs after the family's mother and children.
The young girl was me, and I could now see though her eyes. My brother whined as our mother pushed us into a closet, hushing us to the best of her ability before shutting the door. We heard her footsteps as she left us there in the blackness. After a few moments, there was another, single gunshot. A shrill scream was followed by one more shot, which was in turn followed by silence. My brother beside me began to whimper, and I cupped my hand over his mouth, knowing my mom would've wanted us to stay quiet. I took a breath and held it as I heard footsteps outside the closet.
"Find the kids!" I heard someone shout. At this, my brother could take no more. Silas burst through the closet doors, escaping my grip, and crying out, "Mommy!" I stayed put, and watched in horror through the open door as my older brother was pounded by a rain of bullets, blood and flesh dripping and dropping to the floor. I put a hand over my mouth, dry heaving into my palm, and shut my eyes. When I opened them again, I took in the scene of my brother's body – blown to pieces, chunks of muscle and coagulated blood smeared over the floorboards. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes, and I buried myself wordlessly into the corner of the closet, pulling a winter jacket over my tiny, quivering body.
Moments later, the closet doors were violently pulled from their hinges. I hid from the attackers beneath the coat, but it did not take them long to find me; I was lifted from the safety of my father's fluffy down jacket, and plopped down upon the bedside. A man stared angrily at me, a glossy black pistol pulled tight to his chest. I swallowed hard as he raised the gun. I could feel the cold metal of the barrel's end press into the center of my head, but before the man had a chance to pull the trigger, one of the other men grabbed the gun away from him, and shouted something in a foreign language. "Why kill her right now? We haven't had fun yet," I recognized. A feeling of sickness and terror welled up inside my tiny chest. The man who'd stopped the gunfire turned toward me, and suddenly lifted me up to the top of the bed.
The next thing I knew, he was on top of me, crushing my small, weak body. I gasped for every breath, and stretched my head up, striving for precious oxygen. He pulled back and allowed me temporary reprieve, but only to pull his pants down, and reveal a large, protruding organ from between his legs. I took in the sight of the man, staring at the scar which ran across his right eye, and dedicating that image to my memory. He assaulted me, tearing my petite skirt away from my body, and turning me around so that my bare bottom faced him. I felt his hand slap the bare flesh of my ass, much like my father would do when I misbehaved, only, never like this. Never had I been naked in my father's presence. I began to sob, and the man took his gun and whacked it into the side of my head. I was dizzy and very much out of it, though not enough to the point of being unconscious. I wish I had been.
I felt something large entering my bottom. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and I heard laughter in response. The object continued to push its way upward, and I flailed helplessly and screamed and kicked and sobbed into the soft pillows beneath me. The object retreated briefly, before it was shoved up into me again, and again, and again, each time bringing with it greater pain. I yelped in agony, but the man didn't stop. Instead, he turned me, so that I could witness him pounding that thing between his legs into me again and again. His face was contorted in pleasure, that I could tell, even through my blurry vision. He stopped only when he too screamed, though it was not for the same reasons as my screams had been.
He pulled the thing from me; it was covered in blood and a sticky white fluid. He climbed onto me, pressing its tip against my lips. I turned my head away, cringing in disgust. The man yanked my head back, prying my jaws open before shoving the bloody appendage into my mouth. I didn't want it there, and he pushed it so far down into my throat I felt as though I was going to vomit. But he pulled out before I got to that point. I yelped when he pinned me to the bed again, reaching down to touch my "privates", as my mother had adequately named that area of my body. "No!" I screamed, feeling his fingers swirl around inside my tiny entrance.
At this point, I snapped. I lifted my head, and bit with as much force as I could muster into his neck. I felt blood pour into my mouth, but didn't care, and continued to dig my sharp teeth through the layers of flesh. The man yowled in pain, pushing me away from him, and off the edge of the bed. I tumbled onto the floor, and hit my already-bleeding head against a dresser. My vision wert suddenly black; I could hear sirens and more yelling. They left me there, bleeding from both my head and anus, surely thinking I would be dead before any medical help could possibly arrive.
But they had been mistaken. I lived.