So here is the next chapter, and sorry it took so long! I went away for a bit, but I'm back now and armed with an update schedule! This story is going to be updated every TUESDAY, except for next week when I'm away again. ^_^ If you would like to know the schedule for my other stories, run along to my profile page hehe. They will all be updated once a week. XD Thank you so much for all those lovely reviews, favs, and follows, I'm so thrilled people are liking this already.
Just to clarify one point: this story WILL get dark, yes, but it will also end on a bright note. I can't abide sad endings. I can just about cope with reading them if I have fluff to resort to straight afterwards, but I literally cannot make myself write a sad ending. It doesn't work. So, this story will have consistently dark and sad themes, but it will end on a happy note. ^_^
Warnings: Extreme violence and threat
Oh, and last chapter I called this story AU (Alternate Universe), which it sort of is, but it references events that happened in Battle City (the English dubbed anime version). I hope you like this new chapter! - Jem
Bakura growled dangerously, furious. Livid brown eyes shot across the hall, firmly blocking the way to the door as Bakura looked with hatred at the dark form of Marik's body, knowing that Marik himself had gone again for now.
Bakura would not have that for long.
His lips still tingling from the kiss, Bakura dropped into a low crouch, watching warily as dark Marik lifted himself carefully from the ground. Bakura's neck was still burning, red finger marks standing out proudly on his borrowed pale skin. White hair was still sticky with blood and Bakura was fairly sure that the back of his head was cut open, but right now he had more pressing matters to deal with. Namely, the sadistic being currently standing in his hallway.
"What, no witty retort?" Brown lips stretched wide as the dark figure advanced. He looked amused. "I'm disappointed in you."
"Shut the fuck up," Bakura snapped, his mind racing as he tried to figure out the fastest and most painless way out of this situation. He needed Marik back. Every fibre of Bakura's being was screeching out at the sheer wrongness of looking into Marik's eyes and having some stranger leer back out at him, and Bakura couldn't cope with it for much longer. There had to be a way to get him back...
The dark figure shifted another step towards Bakura. "That is no way to talk to me, Ring Spirit." The tone had suddenly turned dark and dangerous, words slipping thickly through the air, weighing heavily in Bakura's ears.
Bakura glared. "Just get the fuck out and give me Marik back."
The dark one didn't even deign that with a response; he merely pulled Marik's lips back into a deep, cackling laugh. "Kekekekekeke!"
Bakura groaned, allowing his head to drop into his hands. He massaged his forehead. "What the hell do you even want? There's nothing in this world for you."
"That's where you're wrong." If it was even possible, the dark being's voice seemed to burn with more black fury, the tone vibrant and frightening as it rang through the thick muggy air. "Everything in this world is for me. It's all mine, don't you see? It should all belong to me!"
Bakura quirked a brow. Even at a time like this, he was unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. "That's a rather arrogant notion, don't you think? You don't even truly belong in this world. If it wasn't for Marik, you wouldn't exist. You need him."
That was a mistake.
With a feral roar more suited to a lion than Marik's mouth, the dark one rushed at Bakura, easily slamming him back into the door. Fingers pulled harshly at Bakura's long white hair, lifting him up by it and ignoring his watering eyes and the increase in the blood flowing from the back of his head. Bakura's body was slammed once, twice, against the wall until Marik's hands held him firmly there, pressing up against him. Lips moved to Bakura's ear. "I do not need that pathetic little weakling. He's so feeble he can't even save you!"
Bakura tried to speak, but a long tanned hand wrapped securely around his throat, replacing the old marks with new ones.
"He is the one who can't live without me," growled that low, dangerous voice. "He is the one too weak to face his own demons. He is the one who trapped me for years on end, pretending I didn't exist, and now he is the one who is going to pay!"
Bakura was released from the wall and he instantly dropped to the floor, coughing. Black spots were dancing in his vision; this weak body couldn't take much more violence. Bakura cursed inwardly, thinking longingly of his brazen Egyptian body, the one that could survive the very breath of the Gods. Oh, what he would give to have it back now...
"But I can't hurt him without hurting me," the dark one snarled, reclaiming Bakura's attention. "So I'm going to have to make do with you."
Before Bakura could protest, a fist collided with his temple and he blacked out.
...
Blood was the first smell to hit his nostrils.
Bakura's throat felt like sandpaper, his skin shredded and broken, his hair matted and tangled, his hands dirty and marred. He tried to open his eyes but the muscles wouldn't obey him.
Bakura frowned.
He tried again, ordering his lids to rise. Nothing happened. He then tried to twitch a finger, lift a toe, tilt his head, all to no avail. It was as if he wasn't really in control of his body.
... As if he was in his soul room.
Bakura cursed. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than dark blue and black walls sprung up around him, shadows surrounding the area and pulling at his subconscious, trapping him, ensnaring him. This never happened unless Bakura expressly told it to.
"Ryou!" Bakura yelled, angrier than he had ever been before. The one time he really needed control of this body, and his stupid host chose now to grow a backbone? Marik needed him!
"Ryou, get the fuck out!" Bakura snarled again, striding through the black space as a white demon in the night. His brown eyes glowed red with fury, flashing through the darkness. "Or are you going to make me force you again? I thought you would have learned enough from the last time!"
A bang resounded through the soul room, and a door opened deeper in the shadows. A pale, slim figure, almost identical to Bakura himself, stepped out into the darkness and met Bakura's gaze with a defiant glare.
Bakura looked at him with obvious distaste.
Ryou looked right back. "What do you want?"
"As if you don't know." Bakura advanced with a threatening snarl, taking a delicious delight in the way Ryou instantly backed up. "What the fuck am I doing here?"
Ryou's eyes widened. He tilted his head, watching Bakura curiously, his wide brown eyes glinting not entirely with fear. Bakura snarled. "Get back in your soul room and give me control. You ought to know by now never to disturb me."
"I didn't." Ryou's voice was surprisingly clear. It lacked the usual vibrant tone of fear, something for which Bakura was not exactly happy. Ryou was wise enough to speak quickly, however, backing up another couple of steps to keep him a safe distant away from his unwelcome body snatcher. "I'm not in control of the body, Bakura. You must have been knocked out."
Bakura gave a feral snarl, pleased when it sent Ryou back a little farther. The evil spirit in Marik's body must have hit him harder than he originally thought, and now Bakura was trapped in the shadows of his mind with his useless host, no way to get to Marik and no way to banish the evil spirit controlling his mind. Bakura cursed.
Ryou paled a little, but he stood his ground. "What are you going to do?"
"Why the fuck is that any business of yours?" Bakura sneered, shooting his host a disparaging look. "Just stay out of the way like the good little boy that you are."
Ryou's eyes hardened.
Bakura noticed and laughed cruelly, lips stretching back to reveal his fanged teeth. "Still wish you had control? I can leave you out there to deal with that sadistic monster if you so wish. I'm sure he'd love getting to play with you; you'd be good target practice if nothing else."
"Stop it." Ryou's voice dripped, shaking a little, and he retreated further. "Get out of my head."
"You know full well that is impossible." Bakura's voice instantly dropped, losing the cruelly teasing edge as he regarded his host with cold dark eyes. "I assume you've been watching events unfold. Stay out of the way; I don't need you interfering just now. We've had enough of bodies being taken over by the wrong person."
"It's my body!" Ryou hollered, fists clenching.
Bakura just laughed at him before turning and walking away, completely ignoring Ryou. The shadows closed around him, thrumming with the power of the Ring about his neck and lending him its strength as Bakura maintained complete control of the mind. He could feel Ryou weakly pushing at his boundaries, attempting to overthrow Bakura's bonds, but to Bakura it was akin to a flea headbutting a mountain. Ryou had no hope of gaining control unless Bakura specifically allowed it.
None of this solved the problem of unconsciousness, however.
Bakura continued to stride angrily through the passages of his soul room, fists clenched, until a vaguely familiar sound teased the edges of his ears.
Kekekekekekeke!
Dark laughter boomed around the shadows, for once not coming from Bakura's own mouth, and the white spirit tensed, his brows furrowing. That laughter was using Marik's voice.
He hissed.
Bakura latched onto the sound, allowing it to guide him out of his soul room and into the light. Eyes cracked open to a familiar dark bathroom; the fuzzy tiny window allowed dribbles of moonlight to slant through into the room, lighting it in thin strips, leaving a hazy silvery glow over everything. Bakura was facing the bath and shower unit, the toilet and sink to his left and the door to his right. One quick flick of his eyes showed him that the door was bolted shut.
Even more worrying; Marik's body was nowhere to be seen.
Bakura moved slowly, his muscles flaring with pain. His hair felt sticky, his limbs locked as he sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, his eyes narrowed and searching, largely ignoring the complaints of his body. He highly doubted he had been left in here alone...
There.
Behind him. Just the smallest of sounds, the quietest of breaths, and yet it held more threat than a tiger waiting in the grass. Bakura had barely a half second to think before familiar arms wrapped around him, touches harsher than any this body had given him so far. Bakura growled at how Marik's body could be so used.
"Gods! You're finally awake."
The dark voice rang through the room, strong and vibrant with shadows. Bakura was tugged backwards and a blade appeared at his throat – an all-too-familiar blade. Marik's Millennium Rod.
Bakura snarled. "Release me at once, fiend, and give Marik back."
"No matter how many times you say it, that is never going to happen," the dark voice slicked, obviously amused. Bakura was picked up and swiftly spun around, landing none-too-gently on the hard bathroom tiles, now facing the familiar body before him, twisted and warped into such a black creature.
Violet eyes burned with black fire. "Rest assured of one thing, though. He's here. He's watching proceedings."
Bakura's heart flared with the tiniest amount of hope.
The dark one leaned closer, lips teasingly brushing Bakura's ear as he breathed poison into his brain. "And I'll be sure to give him a good show."
The small flame of hope was instantly quenched when Bakura was pushed forwards, landing on his front on the freezing cold tiles. A weight instantly fell onto his back, blade digging into the back of his neck as he was held down against the ground.
"Now, where to start?" the dark voice mused. The blade of the Rod dipped teasingly, slicing a hairline cut at the base of Bakura's skull, sending a bright line of red blood sliding across his skin. "So many places to mutilate..."
Stop it! BAKURA!
"Now, now, Marik," the dark one chortled, blade once again gliding over pale skin. "You're going to watch every second of this. I'm going to have a lot of fun playing with him before I finally get rid."
Mindless sobbing rushed through Marik's skull. No, let him go! LET HIM GO! I'm the one you hate, not him!"
"And I am punishing you too." The dark voice turned deadly. "That's the beauty of this plan."
Without further hesitation, the blade slashed pale skin.
Bakura roared, white-hot pain flashing through his skull, and his pain threshold was not low. A long, jagged slash shot down from the base of his head to his right shoulder blade, torn through his flimsy shirt and easily slitting Ryou's pale skin. Bakura growled and pressed fists into the tiles beneath him, but dark laughter was all that sounded through the room.
One brown hand dipped into the gash on Bakura's back, relishing in the pained groan that tore from Bakura's lips. Marik's mouth was stretched into a wide grin, lifting a hand as the blood soaked down and dripped across bronze skin.
Wailing sounded within the mind.
"Hush, Marik," the dark voice almost crooned, Millennium Rod raised once more. "I've barely even started."
Bakura felt a shiver of fear at those words.
The Rod arched through the air almost gracefully, decorating the exposed pale back with another scar, this time not so deep. Bakura hissed and slid across the floor, his head pounding and flesh crawling at the weight on top of him, holding him securely against the floor with no hope of escape. He gritted his teeth and bore the pain as the creature above him delighted in his blood. Marik's fingers dug into the wounds, stretching the scars, and Bakura couldn't stop himself from groaning in pain, his lip bloody with the amount of times he had bitten into it; this body was weak and feeble, unable to take much more.
Marik's lips stretched as the dark one watched red blood staining pretty pale skin, the colours matching almost perfectly. His prey wasn't screaming enough, though; there wasn't enough torture. He lifted the Rod again...
NO!
The hand stopped in mid-air. There was a shunt deep within his mind and the dark one felt himself falling, his mind jerking frighteningly. He roared. "No!"
Get the fuck out!
This small distraction was all Bakura needed.
Moving with a screech of pain as his back cracked, Bakura dragged himself out from under Marik and hauled his way over to the bath. His hands knotted at its rim, forced to half-kneel as Ryou's body began to give out, collapsing. Bakura snarled deep within his mind. This would be so much easier if you weren't a pathetic coward!
Most of that is your fault! sounded Ryou's harsh retort.
Bakura ignored him and painfully turned himself around, meeting a dark violet glare. The eyes were narrowed into furious slits, Rod in hand slippery and dripping with blood, the tiles stained with red. Marik will be bitching about cleaning that up later, Bakura thought with a mild chuckle, Ring clinking about his neck.
And then he had his answer.
"I'm not done with you yet." The dark being's voice was black as obsidian, the threat weighing heavily on the air, sending electrifying shocks through the atmosphere itself.
Bakura glared right back at him. "Nor I with you."
A snarl.
Bakura smirked. "Marik. I have a plan."
Hope flared within the inner mind of Marik, but the dark one quashed it without a second thought and advanced with a roar. "Nothing you can do will save either of you now!"
Bakura shrugged, ignoring the loud complaints from the two harsh cuts on his back. "You won't be able to hurt us there."
A blond eyebrow arched.
Bakura gestured to the Ring at his neck. "I'll meet you in there, Marik."
Dark violet eyes widened in horrified understanding as Bakura's brown eyes dimmed momentarily before widening. Red-encrusted white hair dropped, flattening and neatening even amongst the streaks of matted blood, and pale shoulders dipped, shirt hanging loose around his thin slender frame. Features soon twisted into one of confusion, shortly followed by a slow realisation and finally settling on horror. Brown eyes landed on the dark form before them. Ryou took a step back.
Dark violet eyes blinked. Brown lips twisted into a sneer.
"Well, now. This could be fun."
...
Bakura allowed himself to retreat into his soul room, willingly this time, solely focused on finding Marik once again. The power of the Ring hummed and thrummed through his mind, Bakura encouraging it with some of his own vast strength, edging it forwards as he strode through the blue-black shadows, gaze intent. "Yes, come on, Marik. Find your way here..."
The moments could have lasted hours in that distant room as Bakura paced desperately. He could practically feel Marik, they were so close, bound in the same realm now, willingly or not. Bakura gritted his teeth. Come on come on come on...
The faintest glimmers of light appeared from somewhere up ahead.
Relieved, Bakura ceased his movements and merely stood, watching, as the lights streamed together to form a substantial body. Blond hair dripped down a frenzied face, violet eyes wide and searching, hands clawing out in front of him as he swiped at the shadows. A voice, that wonderfully familiar nasally tone, rang through the darkness as clear as day. "Bakura?"
"Marik." Bakura was careful to keep his voice stern, but he couldn't help a small iota of relief dripping into its tone. He held his arms wide open.
Marik ran into them.
Warmth surrounded them both as Marik collapsed against Bakura, harsh sobs racking his form. Fingers dug desperately into shoulder blades, faces burying in hair, lips meeting in an urgent kiss as both found each other again. Marik ran his hands desperately over Bakura's features, dipping down to caress his back, speaking between kisses. "I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry ... Oh, Gods, I'm so sorry..."
"Will you stop apologising?" Bakura couldn't hold back a smirk as he guided them both down to the floor, pulling Marik up into his lap and cradling him gently. "None of this is your fault."
"He fucking -!" Marik snarled. "That fucking bastard -!"
"I know, and we'll stop him." Bakura's voice was a stern murmur, his hands firm and careful around Marik's body.
Marik sniffed and shook. "How? He's too strong for me, Bakura. He's got me chained up in a corner and I can't get out. I don't even understand how I got here..."
"A part of your soul was already here," Bakura murmured into Marik's ear, rocking him gently. "Remember Battle City?"
Marik blinked, realisation flooding through him slowly. He twisted his head around to meet Bakura's gaze, their lips inches apart, a small smile gracing his lips despite the tears tracking down his cold, hollow cheeks. "Of course I remember. How could I forget your pathetic attempt to save me?"
"Brat." Bakura butted him lightly. "If you hadn't distracted me so much, there's no way we would have lost."
Marik's grin only increased at those words and he twisted around, straddling Bakura. Brown fingers played with the ends of white hair as Marik leaned against him. "I can't help that you're obsessed with me."
"Hush." Bakura wound his arms around Marik's back and held them close together, gazes perfectly level.
Marik smiled, continuing to play with strands of hair, moving his hands around until he caressed the back of Bakura's head. "You were bleeding here, out there..."
Bakura moved his head away. "Wounds don't count in soul rooms. You know that."
"He still did it, though." Marik's voice darkened a little with hatred. He deliberately pushed Bakura down flat onto the shadowy floor, flipping him over and running gentle brown hands across his shoulder blades. "And he cut you here."
"I'm fine." Bakura allowed Marik's hands to wander, fixing him with a baleful brown stare. "It isn't your fault."
Marik smiled. "I know."
"So stop feeling fucking guilty." Bakura pushed upright again and tugged Marik close, cradling him on his lap. His fingers went to Marik's back, to the scars still visible there even in his soul room. "You have worse, anyway."
Marik laughed half-heartedly. "I win."
Bakura smirked.
Marik's tongue darted out to lick his lips as he met Bakura's eyes, his violet gaze darkening a little. "Does this mean I'm still trapped? I mean, I can't get control of my body back from here?"
Bakura's fingers dug sharply into Marik's back, but he remained silent.
Marik drew in a shaky breath. "I thought so."
Silence held between them for a few moments, the only disturbance Marik's fingers threading through Bakura's hair.
Marik spoke again. "When you're in control, how difficult is it for Ryou to fight you off?"
"He never has," Bakura snorted. "He's too weak."
"Then so am I." Marik curled his fingers into fists, burying his head deep in Bakura's shoulder. Bakura felt something cold drip down his neck and sighed.
"Don't cry." Bakura's voice was rough as he pulled Marik near. "I'm not leaving you trapped in here. We'll get him to give you back control."
Marik laughed derisively, the sound a little shaky. "How in the hell are we going to do that? He's never going to agree."
"We'll figure it out." Bakura's tone left no room for arguments as he cradled Marik close to him, searching his face with his lips. Marik closed his eyes and gladly took the distraction. The hands in Bakura's hair turned demanding, firmly tugging until Bakura's face was properly angled. Marik met his eyes, allowing all his panic, anger, hatred, and fear to show through, before he leaned forwards and pressed their lips together.
Bakura fell back onto the shadowy floor and cradled Marik close, kissing firmly. They might not have a way out yet, but for now, they had a little time together, and Bakura wasn't planning to waste a second.
"Wait..." Marik pulled back half a centimetre, ignoring Bakura's frustrated growl. "Doesn't this mean you've left Ryou on his own out there with him?"
"Fuck my host," Bakura snarled immediately, pulling Marik back down. "He can last a little while. You're more important."
Marik smirked and kissed him deeply, chuckling. "Alright. Just don't blame me if you have no body to go back to."
Bakura laughed darkly as he pulled Marik close. "That's the least of my concerns right now."
Marik smiled and curled up on his chest, his fingers once more finding purchase in white hair as he allowed their lips to meet. Bakura closed his eyes and hummed.
The shadows closed securely around them, a protective blanket from the pain and torment of their separate bodies. For now, they were safe.
...
The first thing Ryou felt was a burning in his throat. It felt like someone had shoved a shard of sandpaper down his windpipe and rubbed it harshly against his vocal chords, leaving them red raw and painful, aching every time he moved.
Then a strange numbing sensation weighed down his limbs. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes, aside from a light tingling. Certainly not a good sign.
Finally, pain exploded across his back. Ryou gasped and groaned, eyes watering as he dropped to the floor, his arms shaking whilst he attempted to prop himself up. Black spots danced in his vision, fiery heat searing across what felt like a chainsaw ripping through the pale skin between his shoulders blades and around the back of his neck. His long white hair felt sticky, the back of his head still aching from earlier, and he was almost positive he was bleeding from several different places. Bleeding a lot, if the red coating the bathroom tiles was anything to go by.
"I'm surprised he let you out."
Ryou forced his head up at those words, the dark voice sending deep chills straight through his body. Marik looked totally different and completely insane in his dark form. Ryou had never actually met him before, but he had picked up enough of what happened in Battle City from Bakura's memories, and safe to say that Ryou really wasn't relishing the opportunity to get to know him better. He swallowed.
Marik's body took a step closer. "After all, he must know that I will destroy you."
...Yep. Ryou was definitely not relishing this.
Bakura, where the hell are you? Ryou gritted his teeth and dragged himself upright, sagging against the wall as pain rushed through his entire being, right from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. He blinked dizzily. I hate you, damn spirit!
"Are you too weak to even speak?" The dark one's head tilted, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. The Rod, blade uncovered, was still ever-present in his right hand as he advanced. Ryou's eyes flicked desperately to the still-locked door.
"No escape for you," the dark voice chuckled, deep and alluring and terrifying all at once. "But why don't we make this a little more fun?"
Ryou blinked, struggling to focus on the form before him.
One brown hand snapped out, unlocking the bathroom door and pulling it open. Marik's body gestured through it, wide grin stretching his lips. "Go on. Run."
Even through the haze of pain, Ryou managed to look confused.
Dark laughter rang through the room, pealing off the ceiling and rolling around the air, atmosphere thick and cloying. "I could kill you at any second, but then it would be over far too soon. Let's have a little fun, shall we? Run, Ryou. Run and hide. Let's see if I can catch you."
Ryou shivered at the sadistic words, the thrilling, thrumming voice, the evil gleam in those violet eyes that bespoke a terrifying pleasure. The door was held wide open, inviting, the rest of the flat appearing quiet and welcoming.
"Run."
Without further thought, Ryou forced himself away from the wall and dragged himself out of the bathroom, gait unsteady with pain flaring across his back.
Breaths were hard and harsh, uneven, as Ryou tried to work through the pain. It was useless. With every step he took, black dots burst across his vision and dizziness flickered at the back of his skull. He was already weak and he couldn't last much longer; he had to get out.
With painfully slow movements, all too aware of the threat behind him, Ryou made his edgy way to the front door, every step agony. He swayed and stumbled, half-way there when another terrifying noise sounded from behind him. The dark voice rang from the bathroom, clear and vibrant and warmed with sadistic enjoyment.
"Twenty ... nineteen ... eighteen ..."
Ryou's eyes grew very round.
Hastening as much as he could, Ryou fell against the frame of the front door and took several deep, calming breaths, attempting to ease the pain in his back as much as he could. It didn't work. With his lungs burning, Ryou moved a shaking hand to the door handle and pushed down, eyes sliding shut.
Nothing happened.
"Fourteen ... thirteen ... twelve..."
Panicking slightly, Ryou used both hands to hold himself up, legs shaking as he urgently tugged at the handle. The door refused to budge. The key, where was the key...
"Nine ... eight ... seven..."
No time to find it now. Ryou stumbled painfully away from the door, entering the first room he saw; the bedroom furnishings were bordering on gaudy, probably Marik's taste more than Bakura's. Ryou flinched a little at the sight of the bed, not wanting to remember what Bakura and Marik had done to his body in there. I hate you so much, Bakura.
There was still no answer from the depths of the Ring.
"Four ... three ... two..."
Ryou hissed and flung himself forwards, toppling to the floor with a screech of pain across his still-bleeding back. He had probably left a trail of blood everywhere, but he was too tired to worry about that now, Ryou merely rolled across the floor and under the bed, shrouding himself in darkness and attempting to keep quiet. It wasn't like he had much choice at this point, anyway.
"One ... Zero."
Footsteps echoing across the apartment.
"Ready or not, here I come!"
Ryou drew in another shuddering breath, attempting to stay as silent as he could. He lay on his front under the large double bed, his nails digging into the carpet by his face, his eyes wide and staring, pain flaring across the cuts on his back. Spots of blood were splattered across the room, but they didn't lead straight to the bed ... so perhaps if Ryou was very lucky...
Who was he kidding? He had no chance.
Bare brown feet soon appeared in Ryou's vision, sticking out of the bottom of black trousers. A frightening hum filled the air as the dark being moved around the room, examining the walls. Ryou's heart caught in his mouth when he bent down to examine one of the spots of blood on the floor, blond spikes radiating out from his skull.
Ryou's breath hitched.
The other's head whipped around, eyes boring straight into Ryou's.
Dark violet eyes pierced through the night time air, searing straight into Ryou's brown gaze, the moonlight from the window casting a deadly silvery mist over everything.
There was a low chuckle. "Well, that was rather disappointing."
Dark Marik sat back on his heels and beckoned, grinning cruelly. "I was hoping it would take a few more hours yet. But I guess you really are as pathetic as Bakura always said."
I am not pathetic!
Ryou's mouth was silent.
Marik's head was tilted sideways as he beckoned again, fingers crooked in that come hither stance. Ryou shivered, the pain in his back begging him not to move, but he dreaded the consequences of disobeying that order – matters were already bad enough. The last thing Ryou needed was to anger this dark spirit.
Still his body would not move.
A long loud sigh filled the room and, before Ryou knew what was happening, hands closed around him and pulled him to his feet. Ryou paled considerably at the pain shooting through his veins, feet dangling pathetically as he was lifted up to eye level with Marik's dark half. Violet eyes seared straight into him. "Wakey wakey."
Ryou hissed but otherwise kept silent, his face screwing up with each motion. He kicked and struggled for a few moments, but the ache of his muscles and the spots in his vision soon convinced him that trying to escape was a really bad idea, especially when held fast by Marik's body.
Violet eyes narrowed.
"You are going nowhere." Without further ceremony, Ryou was whirled around and flung against a wall, Marik's body pressed close to him. Ryou couldn't help but scream when his still-bleeding back met the stone hard, eyes watering as the breath was dragged from his lungs.
"So you do make a noise." Marik's hands whacked him into the wall again and Ryou groaned, his eyes sliding shut as his legs kicked uselessly. Marik's lips stretched into a wide grin as he leered down at Ryou. "I want to hear you scream."
"I won't."
Ryou's words surprised even himself.
One blond eyebrow arched up, head tilting to one side. Violet eyes narrowed dangerously, black fire burning behind them, and Ryou swallowed, meeting the frightening gaze.
Marik's mouth opened. "What did you say?"
"I won't scream." Ryou's voice came out mostly even, only cracking a little.
A low hiss. "I will do things to you that you cannot stay silent for."
"Please," Ryou released a low, dark chuckle. "I live with Bakura. Don't you think I'm used to torture by now?"
A snarl. Hands in Ryou's hair, forcing his head back, pulling painfully on his scalp. "I am nothing like that damned thief!"
Ryou winced. "So prove it. Let me go."
"Fucking hell!" Dark violet eyes met Ryou's once more, shadows dancing insanely in their depths. "How stupid are you?"
Ryou shrugged, ignoring the searing fire across his back. "I never said I'd leave. Just that you should let me go."
"I'm having too much fun." Dark Marik leered down at Ryou, grinning widely, but past the pain Ryou was too weak to feel fear. He knew, somewhere, that this was a very bad idea, but he had to try something. After all, Bakura wasn't helping him. Ryou would have to save himself.
"Let me go," Ryou murmured quietly. "You wanted to play with me some more, right? So let me go and I'll stick around."
A snort passed through brown lips. "Don't take me for a fool. You'll be running for the doors in no time."
"You know full well that they're locked," Ryou murmured, refusing to look away from those dark violet eyes.
Lips pursed. "So you'll stay?"
Ryou nodded.
"Why the fuck wouldn't you run as far as possible from me?" Marik's features were twisted, a vein standing out roughly on his forehead as he leered past the spikes of blond hair.
Ryou shrugged, managing to muster up a small smile. "Maybe I'm enjoying myself too much. This is the first time I've been in control of my own body for months."
A blond eyebrow arched again. "Same here."
Despite himself, Ryou smiled. "Well then, why don't we have some fun?"
Silence weighed heavily over the room as Marik's dark side thought, brows furrowed. Ryou watched, fascinated, as different expressions flitted across his features, his face nowhere near the impassive mask that Bakura always wore. This dark spirit was so different to Ryou's own tormentor. He found himself drawing closer, fascinated, and unable to take his eyes away even when a darkly amused violet gaze latched onto his own.
Marik's body stepped back, allowing Ryou to crumple to the floor.
"Alright then. Let's have some fun."
That's your lot for now! I have so much fun with this story haha. Thank you so much for the reviews and support, I'm really pleased people are enjoying this so far. Look out for an update in (hopefully) two weeks' time! - Jem