I'm so sorry this is later than I had intended. I had meant to update this while we were still in May. I'd say one excuse is that the point of view in this chapter was a bit challenging for me. But that's not the whole reason why. Anyway, I'm not going to waste your time here in the author's note.
By the way, the people have spoken, and I have put in the new subtitle. This fanfic is officially, Mary-Sue-Gi-Oh!: Gathering of the Departed :D
Also this chapter is kinda graphic... more graphic than Lorna's shadow duel. Guaranteed to make you wince, probably. -ehehehe .w. Please read with caution. And I apologize in advance for any traumatized readers. I'm kinda under the influence of Silent Hill and Corpse Party (haha there are more of these than I thought/intended actually. I'm considering changing the rating to M)
"My son is dead," she sobs into the still chest of her young boy, beneath a broken neck and an irreparable future. He's gone and she never even got to see him off to university.
It was his last year of high school and he was going to go to Cairo. They had it all planned out, but they never expected to see him like this, sprawled out on the ground, bested by the staircase that watched him grow older. It watched his infantile lips utter their first words and it watched his strong, firm legs flexing after a football game, once a boy and now a man -and it betrayed him, his own home.
Now, all there is to be seen is a broken woman, hunching over her eldest son, shrieking to God, alone in a large house, asking for help and shaking violently, madly, uncontrollably.
"Mama..." he pleads. "Mama, it's going to be okay. Please don't cry. I'm right here." However, she can't see him, her boy hovering, his back against the wall of their home, staring in horror at his own dead body.
"God almighty," she pleads. "God, oh, merciful one, please give me the strength to accept Your holy will."
The boy feels his chest constrict and a foul stench enter his nostrils. Someone is standing beside his mother, draped in filthy black robes that almost hover around its being as though carried by a soft breeze. He can't see the being's face, due in a small way to the hood covering its head, but he also can't help but shake the feeling that this person had no face, only oblivion.
"H-Hey! Get away from my mother! Don't touch her!" he cries out, half expecting it to ignore him, but to his surprise. Its head inexplicably turns to him, and his suspicions are confirmed, as all he can see where a face should exist is dark smoke, and for all he can tell it may not even be human.
Whatever it is this creature is standing way too close to his mother. Can't she see its silhouette bearing over her, its very being like a dark overhanging cloud? Is it her pain making her oblivious? Or is it something else? Could it be that this creature of darkness has an existence akin to the boy's own spectral manifestation? Logically, the boy, like the hooded ghoul, should not be there, but who is he to question things that humans are not meant to know? The sight of his mother makes him want to burst out of his skin, tear out of his invisible binds, and rush over to her side; however, he can't, and he knows that the dark creature has everything to do with it.
GIVE IN
"NO! MOTHER!" he resists and it's futile. FUTILE. mORTal.
GVE iN
It's a command.
The boy thrashes against an invisible enemy, but he's only wasting his time. There's no escape... he must give iN. HE CAN NOT BREAK FREE. YOU CAN NOT BREAkFREE.
GIVE IN
No…
GIVE in. OBLIVION is INEVITABLE
He can't do anything. Anything he does I will stop him. I am your judgement. mORTAL.
GIVE IN
GIVE
IN
I GIVE IN
HE submits, as was destined from the very beginning. THERE is no escape from us. YOU can never escape.
The boy is still now, swaying with the ship on the serene waters, nearing their destination. His hands are shaking on the stainless steel railing, his eyes staring into the endless azure of the glass ocean, terrified of the infinite abyss below. It's nothing like the darkness that forced its way into his soul. He can't see it anymore, but he can still feel it seeping into his skin at this moment. It's so saturated now, and yet it continues to push its way in. He can feel it pushing every part of his true self out to make room for itself.
He feels his stomach and intestines folding in on themselves; his throat is stinging as acidic bile settles in the back of his mouth, scorching him. There's nothing in his stomach. He hasn't eaten since he arrived -if he can even call it an arrival. It's abrupt, and he doesn't understand, but all of a sudden, he doesn't feel like himself. He feels out of place -in the middle of someone else's life, and it's as though his soul is compressed and shoved into a box. He doesn't fit. His soul is aching for release, but he cannot allow it that freedom for fear that it will take him to the inescapable inevitability.
He can do naught but drop to his knees and clutch at his weak stomach, his hair drawn like a sweaty curtain over his face. It's much longer than he remembers it. It's the same color, the same texture, but it's not his. His body is smaller as well -a bit shorter, a bit leaner. He is not the same person he once was. Even his hands feel different as they touch his skin, like the hands of a stranger. Every move he makes feels wrong. He despises it. He despises everything in this world. He despises everyone who calls him by the other name -the name that isn't his own. He wants destroy everything and bring him down as well.
He leans forward and empties his gut, feeling as chunks of his soul are extracted collaterally among the blood and the darkness. The liquid at his feet, slowly sliding down the edge of the ship, is completely black. And it is then that he realizes that none of this is real. It can't be real. And he will do whatever it takes to wake himself up from this dream.
Yami Yugi has just won the duel. No less is expected of him, although that fool Arkana did put up a fight, he was never a match for the King of Games to begin with. The foolish jester thinks only with his heart, however. He thinks he can escape ME. HE CANNOT ESCAPE ME. The Master is not pleased.
The Pharaoh is preoccupied with his own escape, as Arkana extracts an extra key from his sleeve -always tricks with this one. Does he think his Master doesn't know? His Master can see into his mind. His Master always knows what his mind maniacally whispers to him.
Arkana's grin is demented and hysterical as he makes to lean down, only to feel his limbs frozen in place. He cannot even remove that cheater's leer from his face as he stares at his key, his escape slowly crawling away from him. The powerful saw below is still whirring, growing ever closer to amputating his feet.
I can't move. I'm frozen. I CAN'T MOVE.
Arkana.
Master Marik!
You didn't hold up your end of the bargain. CHEAteR CHEA TErC hEATeRcheA TEr.
N-No! Insolent. Just give me another chance! Spare me! LiA RLIA RliaR LIArliA R
No. You cheated, Arkana. You thought you could ESCAPEME.
He must be punished. Punish him. He deserves no mercy.
Master Marik, please spare my life! All I wanted was to see my Catherine again.
Cheater.
A chuckle rumbles from Marik's chest. He can't help but to laugh at the simple-minded escape artist, bound by steel shackles, and the disgusting fantasy of freedom that his asinine mind had entertained. Where's your magic now, fool?
It is effortless to make the key disappear from that man's hand. To watch him sink into despair is beautifully compelling, his mind as Marik can see it, slowly decaying, falling in bits and pieces into nothing. The key! It's gone!
Is your mind playing tricks on you, Arkana? LIAR LIAR LIAR Or have you lost control of your feeble, little mind. CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER That key in your hand doesn't really exist. PUNISH HIM
He can't even see his freedom slip from his slimy fingers. Oh, what a fool…
"Hold on!"
This ridiculously determined and hopeful voice belongs to none other than Yugi Muto, the vessel of the Pharaoh. Does this useless boy think he CAN INTERRUPT ME AND MY JUDGEMENT. HE IS A FOOL AS WELL.
Yugi rushes forward, towards the frozen body of Arkana, smiling eerily in contrast to the wretched wasteland in his mind. And he will die this way. None shall intervene in my judgement.
Before the young boy can make it to the key on the ground one foot away from Arkana, a barrier, strong like steel, but not as corporeal, is erected from the ground in front of him. It extends from the westernmost end of the arena to the easternmost end, completely closing off the jester's side of the hall. It is impenetrable, and the child knows better than to attempt to cross. Even the stupidly brave do not barter with their lives when they know their is no hope. And yet, Yugi stands in front of the barrier, as though his mere presence has enough power to waver Marik's decision.
To Yugi's surprise, the spinning blades stop just before striking Arkana's legs. Before the relief can register on the man's inanimate face, the shackles are opened, but rather than fall face first into the barrier, he is suspended into the air by thin wires like a puppet.
"What!" the spiky haired boy gasps, taking a step back from the barrier. "Marik! What are you doing to him? Let him go!"
At this, the Egyptian boy takes over the mind of the slave and begins to speak to the weakling. "He cheated, Yugi. Don't you think cheaters deserve to be punished?"
"But this is insane!" Yugi exclaims, unsure whether to be shocked, outraged or just infuriated. "What do you plan on doing to him?"
"I am giving him what he deserves."
Right after that ominous statement, a large beam, around two inches in diameter, shoots through Arkana's abdomen. It then pierces through the barrier and passes a meter above Yugi's hair, causing the body above to sway back and forth slightly. Arkana's face twitches, but the gleeful smirk is still there, and Yugi can't even tell whether this is due to his face being frozen by Marik, or due to Marik's own masochistic glee. He wonders if Marik can even feel the pain he has inflicted on Arkana.
The horror of what Marik intends begins to show on Yugi's face in the form of twisted realization. Red begins to stain the magician's coat, slowly spreading like a disease around the hole where the beam still hangs. The young boy can feel himself become dizzy at the sight, his mind trying to erase the image that's flooding his mind -the image that his eyes can still see -the one that he can't look away from, and the contradiction of this state is making his temples throb. He can't handle it and his mind calls desperately for his strength, the Pharaoh. It doesn't take long for the old spirit to hear his dear friend's call and take in the diabolism of the scene.
"How nice of you to join us, Pharaoh."
Yami Yugi doesn't know where the voice is coming from, but he knows two things: it belongs to Marik, and it's origin is the body above him. "Stop this madness immediately, Marik!" he cries out, his voice more firm than his friend's, as well as more commanding.
Marik sneers where his foe cannot see him then replies, "I do not serve you. Not anymore. Now, watch closely, as I demonstrate what happens to those who defy me!"
At first, it seems like nothing more than a tug of string, but it causes a domino effect of calamities. The string holding Arkana up unravels, causing the fabric of his jacket to begin to unravel. Arkana's body begins to bob up and down with the string.
M-Master Marik! I repent! I repent! Please stop!
Silence, slave. You deserve nothing less. CHEATER
When Arkana's sleeves have disintegrated, it is revealed to Yami Yugi, that the wires are woven more deeply inside of Arkana. There are puppet strings jutting out at different points on his arm, seemingly woven into his skin.
No, please. I can't take anymore of this. It hurts, Master. It hurts.
LIAR
The Pharaoh is shocked to speechlessness. He cannot formulate the correct arrangement of characters, words, sentences to stop this. His mind is running at a high speed and his eyes are analyzing the room around him, trying to find a way to bypass this hopeless situation. "Marik…" The choked whisper comes out almost as an afterthought as he can't bear to be silent as this happens in front of him. The atmosphere is hushed around them with Marik keeping his slave quiet using his mind tricks. The only thing he can hear is a dull banging that his mind can't even afford to focus on with Arkana minutes away from death.
It hurts. It hurts so much. Master, it hurts.
The strings are tugged again, pulling at his skin. And just like the colorful blazer, it starts to come apart, elegantly, falling to the ground like silk. Yami doesn't want to look at the blood, the exposed flesh beneath Arkana's fragile skin layer, so he moves his eyes to the man's face. Marik is still controlling it, even now. Arkana's lips stretch wide open like a doll's mouth, and from those pale and chapped lips, a loud yelp escapes.
And another…
And another…
And soon it dawns on the Pharaoh that Arkana isn't screaming, he's laughing. Cackles of glee erupt from his lips, breathlessly and almost to no end. Marik's laughs are indiscernible from Arkana's laughs. Yami can hear them both. It's like a demoniac cacophony that, in a sick and abominable way, was music befitting such an atrocious scene. Meters of string and wire dropping to the ground in piles below the man, his chest bouncing up and down, gasping for breath, and then beginning his raving cachinnation once more.
Yami takes a couple of steps back, unable to handle the sight before him, but unable to turn around. He moves slowly away, while his eyes are locked with the mad eyes of the dying man in front of him. There is pain in those eyes -and hopelessness. Wherever Arkana's mind is, it doesn't want to keep laughing. His throat hurts, and the strings won't stop.
Around and around they go… taking more and more of his sanity with them.
Another tug, and the wires are moving even quicker and more erratically. His body begins to bounce in its suspension; his mask flies off, revealing ancient scars and a look of pure hysteria.
IT HURTS MASTER IT HURTS MASTER IT HURTS MASTER IT HURTS
Another tug, and it is not the wire that moves more quickly, but the arm. With a pop, like a gunshot, which Yami is certain can be heard outside, whatever is left of the two limbs on his torso is torn off and flung to the sides of the room, swinging wildly on the wires. His ears are ringing and his head is throbbing; he can't look away.
The laughter is worse now. It is now a mix between weeping and pure joy. The man's eyes are filled to the brim with tears, dropping down his face uncontrollably like a violent rainstorm, but his voice betrays nothing but incomprehensible bliss. Yami can't even imagine the kind of insanity that gripped Marik's mind as he committed such a heinous and inconceivable act of villainy. What kind of warped logic is justifying this in Marik's dark hole of a mind?
All it takes is another tug of the wire for the once whole man to erupt in a rain of blood and sparks. However, it doesn't pass the barrier in the middle of the room; it simply sizzles at the touch. Just how deeply woven were the wires in that unfortunate magician's body for them to cause this monumental damage? His remains don't even look human anymore. In fact, the most human things in the room are the bloody appendages that are still swinging aimlessly on their wires. The rest of the room is simply soaked in red. Even the bones are obliterated, leaving nothing but dust in the air. And like the finale to a great symphony, the great gong to close the ceremonious event, the beam that had been in Arkana's gut drops to the ground with a loud clang, bouncing in place once, then settling quietly.
Yami releases the breath that he has been unconsciously holding in his chest. All that is left to him is incomprehension. What… just happened? Is this what Lorna meant when she spoke of Marik's twisted ways?
Just then, the banging becomes louder and the metallic door bursts open, releasing some of the tightness in the room.
"Yugi!" It's Tristan's voice.
The Pharaoh finally tears himself away from the scene in front of him. He feels sick, breathing in the dust of Arkana's remains, having Arkana inside of his lungs. It's enough to make him suffocate himself where he stood, but this isn't his body, it's Yugi's body. He must do everything in his power to protect the boy from this.
"Tristan. Don't let Téa see this. Let's leave this place," he says dryly to his friend, rushing towards the door. "Please. Just."
It doesn't take great eyesight for Tristan to notice the crimson dripping and sliding down the walls on the far end of the arena. Immediately, he turns and rushes his companions out before they even enter. "Nothing to see here!" he cries out loudly, trying to feign an optimism and joy that Yami could hardly muster up at that moment.
"Thank you," he mumbles as he passes by the brunette, shutting the door behind him. "I couldn't… protect Yugi from all of it." He feels disgusted with himself and with the monster that he will have to duel later on. Most of all, he just wants to keep Yugi away from all of this, but Yugi is no child, and he knows that better than most. Yugi just may be the strongest person he knows, yet the boy has a long way to go before he can face the true evils of the world.
"You're safe," a feminine voice remarks and a hand reaches for his shoulder.
He shrugs it off and looks down at the ground. "I'm sorry, Téa, but I can't…"
"The Pharaoh's been through some stuff," Tristan intervenes, his eyes gently telling the girl that now is not the time to reassure their spirit friend. All present, Téa, Mokuba, and Mr. Muto, are aching to ask just what happened, but the look on Tristan's face tells them that some things are better left unsaid.
His head hurts. It hurts so badly. His whole body aches. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why did he insist on feeling that foolish jester's pain? He can't move his body anymore. It hurts too much. He collapses onto the floor in his chambers, unable to speak. Although he is not physically hurt, his breathing is labored. The Millennium Rod breaks free from his grasp and falls to the ground with a loud THUNK.
Why didn't everything stop? Why did it make him feel everything until the end? Why?
"Master Marik… are you alright?" the voice gruff and intimidating, but it is also gentle and laced with concern for his master.
And he's not alright. He expected everything to end. This whole farce should have ended. Why didn't it end?
"You shouldn't overdo it next time." A hand moves to his shoulder and flips the boy's body over, revealing his pained face and the emptiness in his eyes. "Please, be careful, Master Marik."
And why does he keep calling me that? Why do they all keep calling me that?
Is it too late for a character death warning? Probably.
This chapter is meant to take place earlier, hence why Tristan is with them and not with Serenity, but I couldn't decide where I wanted to put it, so it comes here instead. Though technically, it should take place somewhere during Lorna VS Rex if I've got my timeline right.
Oh, hey, look. It's Marik. I bet you guys were wondering when he'd show up. While, some of this chapter is word-for-word episode 62 of Yu-Gi-Oh, I took a few liberties with the aftermath of Arkana VS Yugi in case you haven't noticed ;) -cackles sinisterly- Of course, there is a reason for this change. And of course, it's up to you guys to figure it out. I'm not just killing Arkana for the sake of wanting him dead (though his voice does kinda infuriate me a bit), there is a reason why Marik is the way he is.
Some of the things I wrote even creeped ME out, but to say I didn't enjoy writing this chapter would be a lie. I quite like how it turned out.
And who is this mysterious new person who has just randomly had the same hallucination as Lorna -oh my!
There is a hint to his name in the first section of the chapter somewhere before the Arkana scene. -mysterious winking-