Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Angel's Punishment ❯ Returning Home ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Otherwise, trust me, I'd be something more constructive then writing this.

Warning: This story contains: Violence, Swearing, Witchcraft, Yaoi, OoCness, abuse of characters, and other stuff your feeble minds may not like. Proceed with caution.

Angel's Punishment

 

“…Damn. This place reeks.” An annoyed voice breathed, lavender eyes narrowing in their attempts to see through the rapidly growing darkness. Sighing, Mariku turned to glance around curiously, long fingered hands digging through a bag that rest at his hip. Finally, he pulled a flashlight from the depths of the cloth bag, clicking it on to shine it on the two shadows that loomed behind him.

 

Hissing in pain, russet eyes narrowed at the dark male, a pale body stalking forward to snatch the light away. “Watch where you shine that!” The accented voice of Bakura sounded, the flashlight being shined in the lavender orbs of the male before him.

 

“You watch it!” Mariku snapped, darting a hand out to reclaim the light. Sighing, he turned to move forward cautiously, shining the bright light upon the trees that surrounded them.

 

“…Look!” Otogi gasped, emerald eyes wide in shock as he pointed a lithe finger past both Mariku and Bakura. Blinking, the two turned their gazes to follow the finger, freezing upon seeing the sight. “…The sign.” He grumbled, blurring forward to rush towards the sign.

 

The other two males simply stood there for a few seconds, glancing back at each other a bit uncertainly. Finally, the followed after the raven-haired male, stopping behind him. “I can't reach it.” Otogi sighed, standing on his tip toes as he attempted to pull a piece of wood down from a post that was threatening to tip over.

 

“Move.” Mariku sighed, shoving the slightly shorter out of the way to reach for the sign. After a few seconds, he managed to get a grip on the old piece of wood, pulling it down. Then, he handed the flashlight to Bakura, turning to the other males to allow them to see the piece of wood.

 

“What does it say?” Bakura questioned, eyeing the piece of wood as he held the light over it. Hesitantly, pale fingers reached out to brush dirt from the sign, black letters now visible under the light.

 

“..Angel's Grief.” Otogi responded, reaching out to brush away more dirt from the word `Grief'. “It looks like Grief was marked out, though…” He pointed out, leaning forward to blow away dirt from under the second word.

 

“Punishment.” Mariku blinked, arching an eyebrow. Gazing at the sign once more, he studied it before continuing. “It says `Angel's Punishment'. It looks like Grief was crossed out with some sort of red ink that dried and darkened to a brown color or a brown ink.” He explained, eyes refusing to leave the sign.

 

“Question.”

 

“What, Otogi?” Bakura questioned, turning to the shortest of the three to give him a questioning look.

 

“Weren't we looking for something named `Angel's Grief'?”

 

“…Yeah, we were.” Bakura responded, nodding his head as he turned to glance around curiously. He saw nothing here, except trees, trees, and did he mention trees?

 

“But the story says Angel's Grief was changed to Angel's Punishment, because of some curse that was supposedly placed on the town after some witches death.” Mariku explained, sighing as he moved to set the sign on the ground. Quickly, he grabbed the flashlight once more, moving through a small gap in the trees before him. “Get your flashlights out. Otogi, go that way, and Bakura, you go that way. We're more likely to find something if we spread out. Yell if you find anything.” He commanded, pausing to be assured the two did as asked.

 

After the three went their separate ways, Mariku pushed through the gap in the trees, hissing in pain as a branch caught a stray spike of hair. Freeing it, he moved forward in a more speedy fashion then before, stumbling once he was free from the mass of trees. Turning slowly, the bright light of the flashlight fell over the area.

 

There before him stood an old, unsteady house. The shutters on the windows were falling off their hinges and the doors and windows all seemed to be shattered and falling apart. The only thought that crossed Mariku's mind at the sight was that this home supposedly belonged to some sort of “witch” or a criminal in the town.

 

“Might as well amuse myself.” He shrugged, stepping over branches and twigs to near the house. Cautiously, he entered. No sooner than he did, the smell of dust and rot filled his nose, a look of disgust twisting his features.

 

Sighing, he moved through the house, shining his light upon the rooms he passed through. It was a while before he came into what he thought to be a bedroom, a fireplace and desk laying before him. Gradually, he padded towards it, a flicker of silver catching his eye. Quickly, he whirled to see what the cause of the color, eyes narrowed was.

 

There was nothing there.

 

“Keep it together.” He grumbled to himself, turning once more to approach the desk. Setting the flashlight on the desk, the beam was aimed upward, light illuminated the room softly. Turning to examine the rest of the room, his eyes fell on the bed.

 

Staring at it for a few seconds, he couldn't help but feel drawn to it. It was like he knew something was there, but he couldn't find it yet. Then, a tanned envelope caught his eye, the paper lying on top of some bulge that lingered on the bed. “What…the?” He blinked, sliding towards it quickly.

 

Getting on his knees beside the bed, he collected the envelope in one hand, turning it over to look for any form of writing on it. Then, crimson letters painted themselves onto the envelope before lavender eyes, the letters glittering before they fell dull. Eyes widening at the word, Mariku hesitantly turned to what lie under the covers as he dropped the envelope. As the envelope fell to the ground, the crimson letters shined once more under the light of the flashlight, the name “Mariku” gleaming.

 

“Open it…” A voice breathed, startling the male.

 

Then, his eyes moved to the envelope once more, a dark hand reaching to pull it closer to him. Turning it over, he moved to open it slowly, sliding a piece paper from within the envelope into view.

 

…Who was this from?