Shaman King Fan Fiction ❯ Catacombs ❯ Stolen ( Chapter 3 )

Author Note: I am well aware that in the previous chapter I used the dub name "Rio" instead of his real name of "Ryu". You have my apologies. Unfortunately, as I live in England, I am stuck watching the dubbed Shaman King and have learnt the real names off the internet. So, I'm sorry about using dubs. I'll try and avoid it in the future.

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Yoh had the strangest sensation that a part of his soul had been torn away from him. He was feeling empty and hollow, though he knew that he was not feeling anything at all. Was this - was this how Ren felt when Bason left him at his father's to fetch help?

No. It couldn't have been. Bason had not really left Ren. Bason would never leave Ren, there was a force of loyalty that the ancient warlord felt towards his Chinese master. Surely Amidamaru too felt that towards Yoh?

Then the answer came clear to Yoh. He remembered Amidamaru's panicked face, his distressed cries for help. He had not gone voluntarily. He had been forced, against his will. Involuntarily. Without choice. Someone had taken Amidamaru away from the place the spirit most wanted to be in without a thought for his feelings or emotions. But who could - who would do such a thing?

Yoh's first thought was Ren. After all, the other shaman had expressed such an interest in Yoh's spirit when they first met, had wanted the young samurai for himself, even. But Ren had changed since then. He no longer held his father's belief that spirits were only tools. He, Amidamaru and Bason now had a private, strong friendship, and, though Yoh was not allowed in on the occasional conversation, he knew that the two ghosts were helping Ren rebuild the life that he lost under the tyranny of his youth.

Ren was therefore out of the question. But who did that leave? Yoh couldn't think of anyone. Unless… unless… yes, maybe that was the answer!

Who was obsessed with experiments on the dead? Who was always on the lookout for a guinea pig to experiment on? Who experimented on Morty in the graveyard in a tactical attempt to weaken Yoh? Who would use another tactical ploy like that to have Yoh withdrawn from the tournament (as he would surely be if he did not have a guardian ghost)?

Why, only someone who, like Yoh, had made it past the preliminaries. Only someone who was desperate to become Shaman King. Only someone who was cunning, twisted and evil.

Only someone like Faust VIII.

Yoh raised his head. There was an anger in his eyes that his friends had not seen before and they backed away slightly.

"Um… Yoh?" Manta asked uncertainly. Anna glanced up, raised her eyes skyward slightly and continued what she was doing, though there was a slight shake of her shoulders. Her hair hung around her face, concealing her eyes from the others.

Horo Horo and Manta, however, looked at Yoh fearfully. His eyes narrowed as he stared out of the door.

"I'll kill him." He growled, fury welling up inside his chest until it threatened to overwhelm him. "I'll kill him!"

"Who?" Manta asked, backing up against the wall. Yoh turned sightless eyes on the small boy, who quaked slightly under the fearsome gaze.

"Faust." Asakura spat.

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Amidamaru groaned and shifted slightly. There was a sense of cold compression on his back and he felt strangely heavy. Something metal chinked as he shifted again. He was aware of voices around him, though they sounded slightly distant and muffled. There was a moment's silence and then - a sudden flare of pain.

His eyes snapped open.

"Ouch!" He yelped as the fiery pain intensified. "Excuse me, do you mind? That's my leg and, if you hadn't noticed, I'm rather attached to it!"

His voice was not how he remembered it to be. It was slightly hoarse, as though his throat was raw or he needed a drink of water.

Wait - when had he last needed a drink, or felt pain? When had he been feeling anything, for that matter? And - when had he been able to be chained to the massive block of stone he was currently lying on? By all rights, as a ghost, he should be able to float right through it.

"Pain receptors working fine. Sensory perceptions? Check. You know, we might actually have a success on our hands this time!" Came one voice. Amidamaru could not see the owner, but the voice sounded clinical, as though medical, and was bursting with poorly concealed joy.

"Chipatama! Take away his swords!" A different voice, cold and commanding, and not at all friendly.

There was a scuffle near his hips and he felt the twin blades slice the air as they were withdrawn from their holsters. He almost instinctively threw out his hand to grab them back, but with a clank of the heavy iron chains it was restrained. There was a chuckle from the cold voice.

"You will not be needing these, my dear samurai." The cold voice. Amidamaru squinted in the direction it came from and saw two figures outlined. One was short, and quite dumpy. The other was tall, thin and had the air of a homicidal vulture.

"The hell -" Amidamaru began angrily. The short silhouette stepped towards him.

"You are the samurai Amidamaru, correct?" Amidamaru nodded curtly. "Excellent. You died 600 years ago, at the age of 24. You were killed in combat, taking a good number of your attackers with you."

Amidamaru was growing impatient. He knew all this already, of course. Had not his spirit haunted Funbari Hill for the past 600 years, waiting for Mosuke?

"However, using the ancient art of voodoo, we have successfully managed to reincarnate you!" The man concluded. He waited expectantly for applause, obviously of the impression that he had done Amidamaru a favour.

"Baka kusojiji!" Amidamaru yelled. "I did not want to live again! I have lived my life and now I have a purpose in death! I wish to return to guiding Yoh Asakura to his true place as Shaman King! You have no right to jeopardise my duty and his chances because of your own selfishness!"

The short one looked confused.

"We thought we were doing you a favour. We thought you would be pleased!"

"Do I look pleased?" Amidamaru snapped. He was fuming. How dare they? How dare they take him away from his friends and chain him to a stupid rock? All because of some stupid ritual?

The short one mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I said that the process is irreversible."

Amidamaru was momentarily speechless.

"KUSO SHITE SHINEZO, BAKAYAROU!" He exploded suddenly. The man in front of him took a step back, but the other moved forward.

"There, there." He said in a voice laced with something that made Amidamaru's skin prickle uncomfortably. What was it? Lust? Seductive tactics? "That's hardly language for an honourable samurai, is it?"

Amidamaru glared, but the tall man smiled.

"That's better, isn't it?" He cooed, teasing a strand of Amidamaru's pale hair between his fingers. Amidamaru growled as the fingertips brushed sensuously against his forehead.

"Stop it." He said warningly lifting an arm to swat the annoying fly away. The heavy iron manacle on his wrist weighed him down and his breathed caught slightly as the fingers caressed his cheek. He twisted his head sideways but the chain around his neck prevented him from escaping. He snarled again, trying to get away from his tormentor.

"Stop it!" Amidamaru blinked, for it had not been he who shouted. It was the other man, who was hurrying forwards towards the two. The fingers withdrew as the tall man pulled away from the young samurai, looking rather irritated.

The two held a hurried whispered conversation before the shorter man bowed to Amidamaru.

"Excuse us, sir, for we shall not be long."

He hurried away from the rock, the tall man stalking after him. Amidamaru was left alone.

A chill ran through him as he realised that there was an overload of feelings. He was hungry, something he had not been for 600 years. He was thirsty and tired. He was cold, he was shivering, muscles that were stiff from ill usage (ie, not being used for 6 centuries) were trembling spasmodically, both from cold and shock. He felt the effects of gravity, which had not bothered him since his death. And, most of all, he felt restrained and claustrophobic.

How could people live like this? They were held down by gravity and kept at bay by solid objects. As a ghost, none of these things had bothered Amidamaru, but now he was technically alive again he realised how restrained the humans were.

With there being nothing to vent his rage on, Amidamaru found his eyelids weighing closed. He yawned, something else he had not done for a while, as breathing was not compulsory when he was dead.

As his eyes drifted closed for the first time in 600 years, a single subconscious sigh escaped his lips. Without him realising it, it formed into a single name.

"Yoh…"