Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ A cold desert ❯ Hatred begins ( Chapter 1 )

Okay, pavchka Ryou-ran inspired me to do this fic, even though she doesn't really know this. ^^" Wait, what was Yami-bakura's real name again? Touzokuou Bakura. Wow, what a name!

Bakura: Is that my name.

Yami-Bakura: I guess...

Ryou: you guess?

Touzokuou Bakura: wait, if you are Ryou, and you are Yami-Bakura...

Ryou: yeah?

Touzokuou Bakura: then who is bakura?

Bakura: "popps out of his disguise to reveal Yami"

Ryou: bad move Yami

Yami-Bakura: what did I do?

Ryou: not you!

Yami: ^^"

Touzokuou bakura: grrrr.

Yami : o_O

Ryou : Yami, run !

Yami-Bakura: "runs away, screaming like hell."

Yami: "is weak with laughter.

MS: "blink" Riiiight...anyways; who wants to do the disclaimer?

Yami-Bakura: "comes running back, still screaming" me!

MS: "sweatdrop" okay, okay, here ya go. "hands Yami-Bakura the disclaimer"

Yami-Bakura: Murai-sakura does not own any of the yu-gi-oh characters because her stephfather got the rightfull owner very pissed off and blew her chance in getting married with bakura or even Yami for a life-time. "sweatdrops all over"

MS: Great! Thanks ^^

A cold desert ,chapter 1: hatred begins.

A quite attractive man was sitting in the middle of the desert, scraping something off of the rocks. He had a strange way of making pottery but that's why he was famous about it. The man had a tanned skin and beatifull white hair. His muscles were huge and he looked really strong though his eyes revealed the kindness of his heart.

After a day of hard work, the man finally managed to get a pot full of the rockdust and happily whiped the sweat away from his forehead. He drank of his last water and swung his bag over his shoulder, wanting to head for his small home. He was a satisfied man who felt as if he had everything he ever wanted. He had a lovely wife waiting for him at home that never complained and he had a young boy who had the lovely eyes of his wife. The man his full name was Touzokuou Bakura but everyone just called him bakura. Everyone in town knew him and he was loved with everyone, and not a day went by that he didn't feel happpy about going home.

Bakura layed his bag on his donkey and pulled the animal with him, out of the desert and towards his home. When he arrived at the little river that layed right in front of the towngates, he didn't hear a single noise and this worried him. He left the donkey at the river to let him drink and slowly pushed open the gate. When he stepped into the town, he gasped in horror. Everywhere on the streets layed body's, lifeless shells with blood all over them. Some of them weren't recognisable but most of them had been just killed in an instant and Bakura could easily recognise them as his friends.

Tears were allready staining his face but he wanted to know if his family was allright. He rushed over to his own home, running past the lifeless body's that looked so terrible that bakura couldn't look at them without feeling the urge of throwing up. Finally, he reached his little house and saw immediatly that it was completely trashed. The roof had caved in and the door was nowhere to be seen. Bakura jumped inside, covering his eyes against the dust that was falling from the leftovers of the roof.

Bakura looked inside the kitchen, the living room, everywhere, but he couldn't find his loved ones. Eventually, he went to his bakery and looke dinside. There, he could see his wife, terribly burned all over her body, and stained with blood, not moving one bit. His lip was trembling madly and tears were starting to flow over his cheeks. He fell to his knees and took his dead wife in a tight embrace. He layed his head on her burned shoulder and cried in her neck. He cradled her and sang a song, very softly. It was her favorite song, it had allways been. Soon, his voice cracked up and he screamed loudly, tears mixing up with her blood.

Bakura looked at one of the corners and saw his own son laying there in a pool of blood, his own blood. Bakura cried even harder and carefully layed his wife on the floor. He crawled over to his son and took him in his arms, as carefull as if he could break any second. He saw that someone had slit his neck and stabbed him in the chest. He couldn't believe it, he allways had loved his son. He had allways been proud of him and he allways wanted to teach him things like riding a horse or baking a bread, but now, he couldn't do that anymore.

Bakura let go of his son and rushed outside. He saw the other people who were murdered as well and slowly slid down the wall, burrying his face in his hands, crying hard. He couldn't believe it, who could've done this? He quikly stood up again and stumbled out of the town, only to find that the donkey had rushed off to somewhere else, and his bag opened up and his hard work vanished into thin air.

Suddenly, someone grabbed him by his hair and he was pulled backwards. He quikly crawled to his hands and knees and saw several men standing in front of him, some had a sword that was stained with blood, and other were just holding horses. Suddenly, bakura's eyes fileld themselves with hatred and he started to shout at the men. "Did you kill everyone?!" he shouted? They just grinned while the head of the gang nodded at him with a maniacal grin on his face. Bakura screamed and jumped forward, trying to hit the headman but missed, tripped and fell face-flat into the hot sand.

He didn't even botter to get up anymore, he just cried into the sand, trembling like mad. "But why?" he asked softly. "why?" One of the guys just lifted Bakura's head up by his hair and pulled him on his feet. "They were orders of the pharaoh" he said while he tied a rope around Bakura's hands. "The town was getting to many inhabitants." Bakura gasped. "But we would never do anything to displease the pharaoh!" he yelled. "We were all happy" The group juped on their horses and they tied the ropes on the saddle of their horses. "There's nothing you can do about it boy" the leader said. "Now save your strength, it is a long journey to the city of our pharaoh.

"Now what is your name?" asked the leader again. Bakura didn't even answer him, he just stared at his hands that had been tied together. "Answer me" shouted the leader again. Bakura still didn't respond. The leader grabbed a knife and knocked Bakura to the ground with it. Bakura crawled up again, revealing a long cut that began at the top of his eyes and continued from there till it reached his cheek the cut was bleeding badly and tears were mixing with the blood, colouring it pink before it hit the ground. "Touzokuou bakura" he mumbled.

The leader grinned and without saying anything else, he just ordered his horse to gallop, just as the rest of the group, while bakura ran after them, with his legs that were still tired because of the long day of hard work.

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