A Past and Future Pharaoh

Written By: Lady Lunar Phoenix

Original Beta: White Swan

Current Beta: Lady Lunar Phoenix

A/N: Had to do some solid adjustments here..

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Stars burst before a screen of black, causing Kaiba to wince in pain as he reached up with one hand to to delicately touch the back of his skull. Pulling back his hand to see if there was any bloodstains. The fingers were clean of blood, though he briefly wondered if he had enough blood for such a slight injury. Remembering that he had been repeatedly stabbed through out his stay here, he found himself pondering how much strength he had left before pride would give out. Allowing his body to drop from sheer exhaustion.

"Big Brother works so hard, I wish you'd just rest for a little bit. Can't you be my Big Brother for a little while instead of my dad?" A soft, helpless, plaintive Japanese voice asked on the mechanically chilled air.

"You know you should rest, there's nothing wrong with it. You can play with us instead! Until you feel better?" An encouraging, innocent Egyptian voice offered on the warmth of desert air.

"Lazing around like a good for nothing child, if you've got time to lay down you have time to stand up and work!" And there was the voice that could always be counted on to grind Kaiba's gears. That course voice that sent the other younger voices away into thin forgotten wails like wind against a concrete wall.

Causing his fingers to curl claw like as he brought his hands in scraping against the tight, computer precision stitch work carpet, forcing him to push his body back up. His arms shaking as he pushed on them to support his upper body before pushing himself into a kneeling position. He began panting from the exertion as he rolled his body weight onto his knees and then his shins as he sat up.

All the while, the sensation of a newly re-awaken Ka flowed through him, his skin feeling like a paper sheath. When he moved, it moved along with him, a ghost feeling of a severed limb, lost ages ago. It hovered over him like a stigmata of the worst kind, yanking old memories and feelings out of him as he moved. How to summon it, send it away, how to utilize its strengths in concert with another Ka.

The happiness when he first summoned it, the joy of living free under the sun while guarding the little Prince. The pain of loss as each person he cared for fell, the agony of failure grated on his nerves, the grief wracked his mind and soul. Failure, guilt, shame, was a potent poison that made even the manifestation of his long absent Ka a toxic reminder of things he wanted to forget. Yet here he was living those emotions again, inflicting his failure onto Mokuba as he had on the Prince again long ago.

Without the Rod and it's darkness, he was forced to face his crimes in the light of truth and it sent him cowering. The idea that he was strong enough to protect what was his was being dashed with every possible moment he stayed in this hotel. Born of pride or shame, Kaiba finally pushed himself to his feet. Taking a moment to brace himself against the door behind him so he could at least stand with some semblance of pride.

Every emotion had been torn out of their grave, a macabre dance of mockery, singing songs of how they were 'back'. Oh yes, they were waiting to bring him back into their fold and go back to the old days. But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to endure that level of pain that they were asking of him. He couldn't break, not when he had a company to run, when he had an image to uphold. But this was who he was now, and he couldn't change it, if he was to protect Mokuba.

He blindly inched along the wall, his fingers groping for invisible holds as he struggled along. His back ached from hitting the wall, with flickers of flame trickling against the rest of his nerves as he moved. The lights were probably stable in the hallway, but Kaiba couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to see. He moved along by touch alone, his breath was uneven, hitching in his chest so much that he knew he would go into hyperventilation if he didn't calm himself. Only he felt like he was losing control over his body.

"You know Seth, you could learn to listen to the advice of others once in a while."

"You know Maha, you could learn to shut up once in a while."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Room 6277, the note he originally found warned him of that room. If that was the room where this all began, then he had to go and deal with what was inside there. If for no other reason than because he refused to be broken by some outside force wanting to utilizing what they had learned about his past life.

There he admitted it, he had a past life. Three thousand years ago, he was a High Priest, a General, a Pharaoh and a God. Now he was just a very pissed off CEO. Someone was going to find out how much trouble that they got themselves into when he got his hands on them.

He opened his eyes and began looking about for that room number. He wouldn't let this hotel break him! He'd beat this hotel into submission like he beat everything else in his life, no matter what the cost. He wouldn't fail!

"Not again."

That voice whispered into his ear commanding his attention, the one who spoke when he left the previous room. He lifted his head at the voice, refusing to submit for no greater purpose than just refusing to lay down and die. He didn't know how much more his whole being could take. He was physically exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained as things long since buried kept being revived to torture him. He had to fight, he couldn't afford to drown when Mokuba depended on him.

His fingers gripped for the locket he normally wore around his neck, only to recall he took it off before he went to bed. Though he was a little struck by the fact that he didn't put it right back on when he woke up, normally he did. 'Why would I? I was covered in blood, besides doing that would probably have gotten it damaged by something at this rate.'

He reasoned with himself as he continued making his way down the hallway, reading room numbers as he went. 6260, 6262, 6264, 6266, 6268, 6270, 6272, 6274, 6276 and across from him Room 6277.

"I hate you."

Kaiba started at a voice that had once been haunting suddenly becoming solid and life like. Instead of a remembered voice, this time having the solid tone of a real set of lungs, vocal cords and opinions. He turned towards it, only to find that child version of him who had been roaming around before. That representation of himself that had been looking after the child Mahaado. Kaiba would have disregarded that statement, as he had disregarded many in his life save the fact that this was... well the fact that for the first time since this had all started, the boy was looking directly at him.

"Yes, I'm talking to you," the kid crossed his arms, his annoyed expression a mirror of Kaiba's own. "Think you're so great! It's your fault that Maha won't talk to me! I can't find him anymore, not that he was acting normal since we got here."

Kaiba stood there staring down at this child wondering if he should start laughing, or test to see if this child was even real.

"What? So high and mighty you can't talk to anyone from the streets you, you stiff necked bastard?"

The child in question could apparently see him, he was clearly picking up cues from something. "Are you talking to me?" Kaiba asked giving the boy more of his attention.

"No, jackass I'm talking to the floating Ka behind you. Yes, I'm talking to you! What have you done with Maha!" Kaiba blinked stunned by this... what was it? An illusion? Or perhaps a ghost? He never did figure out where the boy came from.

"So why is it now that you decide to notice me?"

"I've noticed you since you got here. From the moment you started coming up from whatever hell you came from, Maha has grown sicker and now he doesn't even come out of his room!" The statement startled Kaiba, on several levels. Whatever this child was, did he even realize Kaiba had been in the building the whole time? He seemed to register Kaiba's presence when he walked up to this floor, and he knew that Mahaado was 'gone' so to speak. The line about Kaiba 'coming up' implied that the boy didn't know about the first floor. Or perhaps metaphorically speaking, the first floor was 'hell' the second was 'earth' and the third floor was the 'field of reeds'. Also saying that Mahaado 'wouldn't come out of his room' implied that Mahaado was appearing and disappearing through out the hotel.

If this illusion was, in fact, an extension of Kaiba's past self, then in hindsight it's behavior was justified. The moment Kaiba started to feel any form of concern towards Mahaado seemed to bring the illusion into being and make it fuss over Mahaado. Doing what Kaiba himself had a problem doing now... so perhaps its anger was Kaiba's own anger manifesting. Perhaps constantly seeing Mahaado's increasing physical decline was causing his suppressed concern to manifest this way.

His eyes drifted back to the door to room 6277, and he decided this illusion wasn't going to stop him. Kaiba walked ahead towards the doors ignoring the insults and, surprisingly, grabs that were meant to stop him from walking forward. Opening the door and walking through it without a glance back...

"Come back here bastard! You took my family away! Give them back!"

The door clicked as he shut it leaving him in utter darkness.

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The Stanly Hotel was not a cookie cutter room design exactly, thus he had to stand there and try to get his bearings. The window that should have been letting some light in was just as dark as the rest of the place. He lifted up his hand to start looking for a lamp or light switch only to brush against something mildly rough, causing him to grip it, his mind wondering where he was now. He had experienced too many rooms that weren't rooms to believe that the set up could be the same.

His hand felt stone against his hand rising up until suddenly abruptly his fingers curled into a light fist as the stone disappeared. The worst thing about this place was the absolute darkness, there was no wind nor light, just a void that sucked away even warmth. There was a feeling of something prowling around him, an inhuman beast that had an presence and weight despite being unseen. A predator that could see him, while he was visual blind to its presence.

He couldn't get his sense of direction, all he had was the feeling of the stone at his side. He held on to it, letting his hands run against the cold stone like like butterfly kisses. He couldn't be sure where or when the threat would start, this could be anywhere, any when, and he couldn't risk setting off a trap.

Fingers more accustomed to keyboards and duel cards dusted lightly the space in front of him until he felt the toes of a foot. Fingers jerked back, instinct knew where the top of the foot was and he opted to touch that instead. Brows furrowed unseen in darkness. Wouldn't the touch of a person, especially on the bottom of a foot wake them up? His fingers began to drift down the ankle when a thought more darker then the room he was in began to unfurl. He no longer lightly touched, his hand grabbing down on the ankle, both hands working their way up a body that was still.

The leg was firm, the thigh was thick with strong muscle covered with a cloth, that Kaiba's fingers tried to follow up only to have it stop abruptly back to flesh. So it wasn't a typical cloth that would be used to cover the body of a person. His mind was trying to form this image better, figure out what he would be seeing if there were light. But as his fingers danced over the toga like style of clothes, the firm muscles under his fingers caused him to take a startled step back. He knew that body type, knew the thick broad shoulders and...

His heel landed on empty air, causing his leg begin to slide down, scrapping the bottom of his shoe. Sending his body forward as his leg tried to jerk his leg back up and level himself off back on the step he had been standing on. Pride was forgotten as the feeling of being gut punched from the images forming in his mind about what was before him. In utter darkness and yet in his minds' eye he could suddenly make out the exact layout of the room.

And as though it was fully lit, he turned from the slab of stone and walked the steps he had been close to falling down, three short steps and he was on deepest part of the floor. Long legs carried him across and on instinct he took the steps leading up. All of it in darkness, all of it with the certainty of a mountain with each mark being hit. His hands touched another slab, carvings that he ignored gave impressions under calloused fingers. He reached forward with his right hand gripping another still lifeless hand as though he knew it would be there. Though if anyone else saw this they would be amazed at how well and efficiently he was moving.

As both hands touched the stone, it was as though an unvoiced signal had been given. Flames burst to life around him starting from his right and concaving out to him. Torches and large metal bowls that held oil, turning what had been absolute darkness into a firey hue. Eyes that had become accustomed to seeing nothing were overwhelmed by the light. Trying to see what was at the start of the flames showed him a shadowed standing figure. His eyes watered from the light blurring the image out of focus, scented smoke that he had not noticed before wafted up his nose and tickled his eyes. All his other senses felt alive for the first time in that room.

He lowered his head as he shut his eyes from the light, forcing back the tears he felt trying to fall from the sting of smoke. He could smell it, the sweet scented oils of lotus blossoms as it mixed with the smoke that carried the scent. He dropped his left hand onto the slab as his right hand curled, without thought, around the hand it had been resting on. He looked to the right of him, north to another slab, he saw a charred body so burned that gender was all but lost on her. He knew it was a 'her', he knew her laughter and her tomboyish to lady ways, knew what happened when she sacrificed herself. She was covered though, only her feet remained sticking out from under the cloth cover.

He didn't have to look down now, he knew where he stood as well as if it had been on a map. When they had removed that Tablet and entered the chamber the mage had already been shredded. The whole left side had been torn open, the arm dismembered off of him. He had been found laying face down on the ground, the blade that had taken his life had finally stilled. The blood that had pooled had long since dried on both blade and stone. The blade had carved its way through his waist cutting into the spine and leaving only the sliced organs and skin to hold the body together. "You weren't supposed to leave us Maha."

He had turned his gaze towards Mahaado's face, far better to look at that then the gaping hole or the fact that he had been resting his hand on a dismembered limb. Mahaado was no longer in any guise of a child, once again he looked like a young man. His headdress removed only made him look younger, more innocent, it made looking at him more difficult. As Mahaado stared back at him, instead of closed as the dead should, the mages eyes were open and following him.

The mage was aware of the situation despite being cut like this and in a darken room his eyes still conveyed how aware he was of what was going on. And in that Kaiba finally realized where Mahaado went when he disappeared. Yet the thought of having been forced to be laid out in such a manner...

He backed away from the slab staggering his way down the steps before turning his gaze on the ring leader. He knew what that was, the mask of Anubis, this was the time that the bodies of the...

"NO! I don't want to remember this!" He cried out at the figure.

"You sacrifice flesh and blood for metal and oil." The voice was muffled behind the mask, he had put down the tools necessary to prepare the dried husk before him. It was that voice! The voice that spoke when he left that other room.

"Of course I do! They give warmth when they work, and they can be fixed! They can be repaired, this can't!" he gestured to the room in general. "I can't fix this! I can't bring anyone back!"

"Of course you can not, you abandoned the past who and what you are, how can a building with no foundation weather a storm?" The Anubis headed man asked harshly as he began walking down the steps from a little Kings body and towards Kaiba himself.

"Look around you! You think this is a past someone wants? Surrounded by the dead? Look at what happened this life time!" The wounded memories of seeing himself, of knowing for the first time what Gozoboro had planned for him, they still hurt him deeply. He stood there black on black, with his turtle neck and pants, even the shoes were black. One would have thought how easy it would be to lose Kaiba in the darkness of the room, yet this Man followed him easily.

"You destroy everything you touch." The man scoffed.

"I didn't want this! I never asked for this, and you above all others 'know' that!" Kaiba argued, "Why wouldn't you let me forget this and go on with my life?!" He demanded an angry wave of his hand to include the corpses of his dearest friends, his fellow High Priests, the Pharaoh who he swore his eternal loyalty to.

The Priest who stood before him, reached up calmly, his hands gripping the throat of the ornate mask as he pulled it off. It was so weighty, so cumbersome and he wanted to be clearly heard and understood.