I am fixing this chapter on my brand-spanking-new MacBook! :D Yay life. It'll take some time to get used to it, so I thought I'd do that a little today—not to mention I suck at capture the flag which is what many other freshman are doing.

ATTENTION: BIG CHANGE AT THE END. THERE IS A LARGE ADD-IN.

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! does not belong to me. However, I take creative license over most Shadow Realm ideas, this story, and everything that is not canon but fits in with the canon if that makes sense.

Just a little reminder:

/...\ switches from one person to another when there are people in different locations

:::^::: is time passage like usual


Chapter 5

Lines of Past

Falling, falling, falling, down, down, down, dark, dark, dark. He was sinking fast, the pit of black swallowing him up. A cackle of laughter echoed around in the black. Voices of souls long lost tickled, whispered in his ear.

"He knows," they hissed. "He's here." He fell slowly as a reflection-less mirror following him as he descended down. He tried to hear, but couldn't. He tried to talk, but couldn't. He tried to see, but couldn't. The mirror shattered and the black consumed him. He was dying. The shadows slithered and crawled and ate him as he fell. The laughter continued, the whispers increased in volume, and he was suffocating, suffocating, falling, falling, dying, dying. He couldn't breathe. And a pair of red eyes always watched. Just watched. Watched as he fell, fell, fell, down, down, down, dark, dark, dark…

"Lost, lost, lost…" the shadows ate at him as the whispers licked at his ears. "Give up hope…hope…hope. None now…" The laughter shifted and changed to the sound of dry ice, cold heartlessness, ruthlessness. The laugh before a murder. His body grew numb, icy cold rushing through his veins as he fell, dying, as the shadows swallowed and gnawed. The laugh pierced his soul, his heart, ripping it out, shredding it, and lacing it with fear. And the eyes just watched. The voices danced around, whispering, nipping.

"He's here…"

Ryou woke drenched in cold sweat, his hand tightly clasped to his chest, his heart thumping hard and loud in his ribcage. This was the worst one yet. He's had terrible nightmares before, but these ones have taken a turn for the dark. The Shadow Realm now inhabited his mind, changing things, shading others. It truly was a nightmare that went on. Malik wasn't lying when he said that.

The Shadow Realm, he learned from the past two weeks—in Shadow time anyway—was an interesting place. It played with feelings, toyed with dreams, and twisted judgment. If he thought the Spirit was bad, the Shadow Realm made him look like a butterfly. Of course, he didn't really know the Spirit well. They didn't have great communication skills. It was more of an I'm-going-to-use-your-body-and-let-you-wake-up-pla ces sort of relationship.

Malik stirred in his sleep but didn't wake. Ryou silently watched him, knowing his insomnia would not let him fall back asleep. His stomach growling angrily at him and he crossed his arms, aware and sad he was unable to get food. So he just did what he always did when he was awake: wait.

/…\

Bakura was in a fix. He had implanted a bit of his soul in the Puzzle so if his main body was ever sent to the Shadow Realm he could always just go there. However, with the turns, never ending hallways, stairs that led to nowhere and doors that just opened to the same series of obstacles, the main part of his soul ended up back in the Shadow Realm. As soon as he found himself back in the shadows he tried and found to no avail he was able to travel back to that small part in the Puzzle; he was unable to locate the small part.

He growled, annoyed at this small inconvenience. However, being as crafty as he is, he could attain a certain card to help him get out of the pickle he was in and maybe even get him back into the real world.

/…\

Ryou silently watched Malik shuffle through his Duel Monsters deck. His lavender eyes scanned over the cards as he flipped through them, pausing here and there to read the description. He hummed an old Egyptian tune as he did so, filling the eerie silence of the Shadow Realm with a comfortable sound and making the quiet more bearable. The purple fog swirled around the two teens, inviting them to lose themselves in the endless foggy haze. Naturally, neither of them obliged and remained sitting in the stillness.

The silence soon returned however when the song concluded on a low "C." Malik reached up and scratched his cheek, smudging the black that curved under his eye. He looked at his finger and sighed, annoyed at the residue on his fingertip. He wiped the substance on his equally black pants before returning to Ryou's deck.

Ryou watched the whole ordeal with mild curiosity. He ran his hand through his smooth white hair and scrunched his eyebrows together. After staring at the smudged line under Malik's eye for another minute, Ryou finally opened his mouth.

"Malik? Why do you wear eyeliner?" Pure inquisitiveness filled his voice as he asked.

Malik stopped shifting through the cards, a deep crimson blush creeping into his tan cheeks. He still was staring at the same card when he answered, "It's not eyeliner."

Ryou raised an eyebrow. "No? Then what is it?"

"…Kohl."

"Which is?"

Malik breathed deeply and lifted his eyes to meet Ryou's soft brown ones. "It was used back in Ancient Egypt by the pharaohs and guardians, and…" he hesitated and moved out of his reclining position to Indian style. "The Ishtar Clan. It's a symbol of power and importance. Everyone in the Ishtar Clan wears it. Odion, Ishizu, my father…" His voice changed and got gruffer. "Even my other half complies with the ancient tradition." His face suddenly lightened, a small smirk replaced the frown. "You'd think that since I betrayed and dishonored my family in every way possible I'd stop with this one silly tradition." Ryou waited patiently as Malik's smirk faded and he became grave again. "I keep it for my sister."

"You've talked about your father a lot in past tense," Ryou observed. "Did something happen to him."

Malik ruffled his ashy blond hair. "I knew this conversation would come up sooner or later," he muttered more to himself. He turned his gaze back to the pulsing shadows. "I… my darker side… my yami… we…" he knit his eyebrows together as he searched for words. Before he knew what he was doing he spluttered his story about his father being cruel, about being forced into getting the pharaoh's secret carved into his back, everything.

His smile was ironic. "So, out of anger, fear, and sadness, I…" he paused again and bit his lip in a frustrated fashion. "My dark… we," he wasn't happy with his choice, but it was the best he could go with, "killed my father."

Ryou's lack of emotion was startling. Malik was uneasy as he watched the white-haired boy, not sure what was going through his mind. He jumped when Ryou's hand slowly reached out, placing itself on Malik's knee. It was a small gesture, but enough to get the message through.

"I'm sorry."

Malik usually hated that term, but for once it summed up everything he'd been through in a clean sentence. He and Ryou has seen and done more in sixteen years than a seasoned elder had in his life.

A shadow slithered over Malik as if to offer some comfort, but all it was interested in was the deck of cards that were strewn around the feet of the two teens.

"No!" Ryou exclaimed and grabbed at the shadow as it passed him. Malik was suddenly next to him, wiping a tear from his eye. The kohl marking was no longer smudged.

"I'll be fine," he insisted when Ryou put his hand on his shoulder. "What's done is done. I can't change the past. I need to learn to forgive myself and make a better future. Your cards, however, are our only source of protection in this Ra forsaken place." He seized Ryou's forearm and began sprinting in the direction that shadow was going. "If we can't get them, we're screwed."

/…\

The dark figure strolled over to where the blasts of light were coming from. It marveled at the majesty of the castle, admiring the fine details. The figure melted into a small shadow, slipping under the door and passing the magical enchantments and alarms with quiet stealth. The shadow swirled up and once more assumed the humanesque form it was so fond of. It walked down stone stairs into a dungeon, another figure standing over and cauldron, a small, glowing green orb hovering over its shoulder.

"Do you want something?" His voice was cold and on the edge of annoyance.

"Not particularly." The figure in the doorway replied, a sly smile crossing its lips.

The man in front of the cauldron pushed his glasses up his nose and frowned at the potion. "More horn-tongue." He muttered and the green orb floated away through another door and swiftly came back with a jar. He plucked two from the jar and threw them into the brew, a neon blue light filling the room in a quick flash. The little orb flew the jar out of sight.

"You never come to me unless you need something." He turned to the figure in the doorway, his silver eyes narrowing, almost covering the red "X" he had for pupils. His glasses glared as he lowered his head, only one eye visible in the dark.

The figure frowned. "Oh, you don't feel like playing today, Murzix?" It clicked its tongue.

Murzix sighed and turned back to the cauldron. He held his hand out and the green orb flew to him willingly. He muttered something and threw the orb into the draft. The room erupted into beautiful green light before settling back to the dark.

"What did you make?" The figure asked, inching forward to get a look at his concoction.

Murzix smiled slowly. "Something personal." He slapped the figure's hand when it tried to touch the bubbling green liquid. "Don't you dare."

The figure put its hands up in a surrender fashion and snapped its fingers, a cluster of shadows slipping under the door and forming a chair. It sat down and folded its hands over its lap, smiling broadly at its companion. "Will you do me a favor?"

"Depends on the favor."

"Have you noticed our special guests?"

Murzix turned to face the figure, an expression of minor curiosity on it. "I have." He said simply.

The figure's smile widened madly. "Will you help me screw with their minds?"

"You aren't one for bluntness."

"You silly, magician," the figure chucked, "I haven't been blunt. I noticed them from the moment they arrived and I've been slipping little shadows here and there, sending out my babies—"

"Those monstrosities?" Murzix scoffed. "I've never understood you with the Shadow Breathers."

"You animated them." The figure shot back.

The magician sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you want, Azazel?"

Azazel gave him one of his most devious smiles. "What you do best: a maze."


LOOK! They have names and you finally somewhat know who this mysterious figure is! Hazah! Azazel has a big role in this. Just wait. *waggles eyebrows*

Review?

Over and out,

Mahersal