Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Apocalypse ❯ The Whole Story ( Chapter 72 )

The Whole Story   Aten sipped his hot tea looking at the painting before him.  This painting was much unlike any painting he had done before. It was a painting of a shattered easel. The canvas lay torn and shattered on the floor.  The paintbrushes on the floor were snapped in half.  On the floor of the painting, a shadow could be seen hovering above….along with a noose.  The artist had hung himself. Aten sipped his tea and sighed. “’The Death of An Artist.’  That’s the perfect title for this one.” Clashing colors resulted in the mixture of paints that had been knocked over. The teen walked over to his little altar where his Osiris, Anubis, Ra, and Isis statues stood. “Where have I displeased you, my gods?” The candles on the altar flickered in silence. Aten sighed. “Maybe I should give it up.” Miranda knocked on the door. “Aten?” “What is it, mom?” “Your father is here to see you.” “Oh, okay. Send him in.” Aten carried his hot tea over to the couch and sat down.  He heard his father’s laughter from the other side of the door. The door to his studio opened and his father stood there with the Millennium Rod. “Hello, boy of mine!” Marik exclaimed. “Hello, father.” Marik walked over to the couch and hugged his son.  The yami father sat down. “How the hell are ya?” “I’m okay. I just finished a painting.” “Good job, son!  I heard you have been having some difficulties.” Aten nodded. “Yeah, I can’t tell what color is which. I can’t tell if they’ll blend right.  The paints I’ve had for a long time I can’t even distinguish.   I don’t think my new one is very good.” Marik pat Aten’s shoulder. “You’ve always had great talent!  Don’t undermine your own proven success, child.” Aten shrugged. “It’s much different than my others.” “Well, let’s see.” Marik stood up and walked over to the canvas on the easel. He stepped back from it and looked at it from many different angles.  “It certainly is different.” “See? It’s no good! I suck!” “You don’t suck, Aten Bakari.  None of your paintings suck. They come from who you are and what you feel deep down inside. You don’t plan on hanging yourself, do you?” Aten shook his head. “No, I have no plans to hang myself.” “Well, that’s progress. The gods won’t look too kindly on such an act.” Aten shrugged. “I asked the gods what I did wrong before you came.” “What do you mean?” “I make sacrifices to them every day just like Father Bakura. I pray every day at morning, noon, and night for their blessing and protection.  They did not protect me. They have not helped me.  Instead, I was given a rotten heart and an inability to do what I love best. How is that justice? I even fast! I’ve fasted through Ramadan even though I did not have to.  I keep asking where I went wrong.” Marik watched his son rest his head on his hand.  He walked up to his son and sat beside him. He put his hand on Aten’s back and rubbed lightly, feeling the rocky scar on his back. “Son, there are some things we can’t understand.  It is not the gods who have done this to punish you. I felt like you did thousands of years ago.  But, something positive can come from tragedy. You have to find the courage to look for it.” Aten sniffled and turned his head to face his father. “How?” Marik leaned back against the couch. “When I lived back in Egypt, I had a wife.  Her name was Amunet. I loved her.  I left my family to be with her. I left luxury and traveled with her family after giving her father the dowry.  Her family belonged to a nomadic tribe which traveled the Nile.  I did the same as you. I sacrificed fowl, sheep, lambs so we could be safe and be blessed with food and children. I prayed at dawn, noon, and night.” “And?” Marik stopped and shook his head. “Yami took it away.   His guards attacked her tribe while I was away.  Everyone was killed.  Amunet, who was about to give birth, was killed.  She was butchered and died a very painful death……..alone.” Aten sat back. “Father…..” “Itemri and I had met in the desert and I brought him back with me, but we were too late.  I was crushed. I lost the woman I loved. I lost the chance to be with my baby.  I asked the gods why. I was angry. I was upset. But Itemri and I’s relationship began from that tragedy. Ever since Amunet’s death, we had been inseparable.  And even thousands of years later, Itemri and I are very close and we still share our same physical and emotional bonds.” Aten sighed. “You are right about the painting. It is different than others I have done.  I guess a variety of paintings is better than one of the same kind all of the time. It’s hard making sure I don’t stick with the same style for every single painting. I was to be seen as a diverse artist.  At least this time, I know it won’t be the same all the time.” Marik grinned. “You see? Something good came of a shitty situation.” Aten shrugged and smiled a little. “I guess so.” Marik pat Aten’s arm. “You are still special to me, Aten….no matter how you see.” “Thanks, father.” “Are you sure you don’t plan on hanging yourself?” Aten shook his head. “No, that just stuck out at me. I could see the painting in my head before I even did it. I saw the artist hanging by his neck. So, I drew the shadow instead of what he looked like hanging.” “Very clever of you, boy.” Aten smiled. “I guess it is.  I wanted to give the painting a different perspective. And the ‘The Death of an Artist’ seemed an appropriate title.” Marik dropped the Millennium Rod and reached out for Aten. He locked Aten in a headlock and gave him a noogie. “I am so proud of my seed!” “Father! My tea!” Marik pulled back. “Sorry.” Aten wiped his tea-covered hand on his pants. “It’s lukewarm anyway. I have to heat it up. Robbie will be up soon. He usually brings me a cup of tea in the morning.” Marik grinned. “So, how’s the sex?” “WHAT?!” “How’s the sex with Robbie lately?” Aten blushed and shifted in his seat. “I can’t do that for another week or so, father. I need to see Dr. Zira next week. He’ll tell me if my heart is ready for it or not.” Marik grinned. “Any oral?” “Dad!” Aten gasped. “I don’t do that!” Marik snickered. “Yeah, and I’m a virgin, son.” Aten blushed again.  “I haven’t done that either.” “Poor Robbie. He’s left to the devices of his left hand, hmm? Oh, wait. He’s right-handed.” Aten covered his eyes. “Sweet Mother Isis….” Marik laughed. “She sees what you do at night, boy.” “Isis isn’t Santa Claus.” “I know. Well, I guess it’s best that Dr. Zira clear you so you can pound Robbie like he deserves.” Aten nodded. “Yeah.  Besides, I take some extra pills when I do any kind of sexual activity, so I have to be cleared for them, too.” “You take pills to have sex?” “Father, I don’t think we should talk about that.” “Embarrassed?” “No, I just don’t like the thought of taking them. It’s really embarrassing.” Marik pat Aten’s arm. “Don’t worry, son. It’s okay. Sometimes people need a little extra help.” “It’s a necessary evil. I want to make love to Robbie, but I can’t without them.” “I see.” “Other than that, Robbie and I are doing okay.” “How about you? Are you okay other than the visual thing and the sex?” “I’m learning to cope with everything that’s changed.” “I’m proud of you, son.  You’re a wonderful person doing a great job. You’ve made your father very proud.” Aten smiled. “Thank you, father.” Marik smiled back. “You’re a good boy, Aten.” Marik reached up and pat Aten’s cheek.  The boy didn’t flinch or jump back in fear for the first time in sixteen years.  Aten never liked anyone touching his face and he was amazed that he was able to do that now without his son panicking.  “I am proud to be your father, Aten. I’m glad that the gods blessed my life with you…well, my afterlife.” Aten chuckled and pat his father’s arm. “Thank you, father.” Marik pat Aten’s leg. “I better go home and check on Malik. I kind of pounded him through the mattress last night and I have to make sure I don’t have to go into the Underworld to get him back.” “Malik is getting older, father. He can’t bend in that position anymore.” Marik grinned proudly. “There’s no harm in bending your partner like a pretzel. They like that.” Aten shook his head. “Why me?” “Especially if you bend a guy just right, you can pound that little prostate gland into oblivion and they feel every inch.” “You are disturbing.” “Thank you.” “Very……very…..disturbing.” “ ;I know. I indulge in being a freak of nature.” Aten laughed. “So I see!” “I wanted to come check on you seeing as you haven’t come around home lately.” “I haven’t been anywhere. Ask Robbie. I’ve holed myself up here trying to catch up with my paintings.” Marik nodded. “So I see!  Well, your mother misses the fuck out of you. Maybe you should come over and have dinner soon.” “I’m sure I can squeeze you in, father. Mom and Dad are going out to dinner this week one night. I’ll let you know. We’ll come over that night.” “Ohhhh….Miranda and Danny Boy are going out for dinner? You know what that means!” Aten raised an eyebrow. “They’re going out to enjoy some company?” Marik grinned and snickered. “Yeah, son. Let’s go with that. Catch you later!” “Bye, father.” Marik opened and closed the door of the studio. “SO, MIRANDA, ARE YOU GETTING LAID THIS WEEK?!” Aten shook his head.  “Why me?” “A LITTLE TO THE LEFT, DANNY BOY! SHE LIKES IT! RIDE HIM HARD, MIRANDA!” Aten groaned and covered his head with a pillow. “My father is a freak,” he said with a giggle.   **********************************   Araqiel approached the house where he saw the blond man go the night before. It was the same house with the studio attached in the back.  ‘If I can get a good story from this kid, then my problems may be over.’ Araqiel straightened his tie and knocked on the door when he saw the blond man leave the home.  A teen with short, curly black hair opened the door. “Can I help you?” “Yes, I certainly hope so, young man. My name is Araqiel Tillmann. I am from the Domino Herald. I was wondering if I could see Aten.” Robbie started to close the door slightly. “Why do you want to see him?” “I wish to interview him on an article I am doing for the Domino Herald. I’m writing a column on aspiring artists and wish to feature him in an article I am doing.” Robbie raised a suspicious eyebrow at the man before him. He eyed him head to toe and shifted on his cane. “One moment. Let me see if he is busy.” “Of course.” “Come in.” Robbie stepped aside and let Araqiel enter. Araqiel entered slowly, taking off his hat and looking around. “Nice place you have here, Mr…What’s your name, son?” “Robbie.” “Hi, Robbie. Nice to meet you. I’ll wait here while you go get Aten.” Daniel came down the stairs and saw Araqiel. “Can I help you?” “He wants to see Aten. I’m going to see if he is available. Back in a moment.” Robbie limped towards Aten’s Studio. He looked back at Araqiel and saw him talking to his dad. Something wasn’t right….. Robbie knocked on Aten’s door. “Aten?” He opened it slowly. “Aten?” “Yeah?” Aten asked as he turned around from a blank canvas. “Someone’s here to see you. He’s from the Domino Herald. Araqiel Tillmann. Does that name ring a bell?” “No. I wasn’t expecting anyone today.” “He wants to see you for an article he’s doing on aspiring artists.” Aten raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been painting for years.” “I know. Do you want me to bring him in or tell him you’re busy?” Aten went to the sink by his altar. “Bring him in, I guess.” “Okay, then.” Robbie left and told Araqiel to follow him. Araqiel stepped into the studio and Aten dried his hands. “Come in, sir. You can have a seat on the couch there.” Araqiel sat on the couch by the door. “Thanks, Robbie.” “What do you want for lunch, Aten?” Aten grinned and batted his eyelashes. “Grilled cheese and tomato sandwich?” Robbie nodded. “Sure! I can do that.” Robbie left and Aten dried his hands. “What’s your name again?” “Araqiel Tillman, Aten. I am from the Domino Herald.” Aten nodded. “Yeah, Robbie told me.” Araqiel opened a notepad on his lap. “I am interviewing aspiring artists for a new article column I am doing.” Aten chuckled. “Sir, do you realize I have been painting since I was two years old and sold my first painting before I could even say my ‘ABC’s’?” Araqiel nodded. “I did a lot of research, Mr.Ishtar, and--” “Call me Aten. ‘Mr. Ishtar’ makes me sound old. My father is Mr. Ishtar.” Araqiel laughed a little. “Okay, Aten. Anyway, I did a lot of research on your work and I want to know more so I can spotlight you in my article. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?” “Sure, I guess. Do you mind if I wash my brushes while I talk?” “Not at all. Please continue. Where do you get your inspiration for your art?” Aten shrugged and poured a solution over his brushes to clean them. “My own life. I enjoy going to Domino Park and painting there. I like watching the children play as I paint. It makes me happy watching them have fun.” “Do you like kids?” Aten shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t like them, but I feel uncomfortable around them.” “Why?” “I don’t feel like answering that question.” “Why not?” “Personal reasons.” Araqiel shrugged. “Okay. What do you feel was your most successful painting?” Aten set the brushes on a towel to dry. “Hmm…I would have to think ‘Demons at the Gate’ was my most successful one. I had auctioned it off for a charity for abused women and children. It went for a few thousand dollars, but the bidding started at one hundred dollars. Robbie might remember how much it went for. He’ll be back with my lunch.” “Who are your inspirations?” Aten shrugged. “Which people in my life or what artists inspired me?” Araqiel smiled. “Both.” “Hmm…well, I enjoy Picasso, Dali, and Monet.” “So you enjoy the Surrealist Movement and Cubism?” Aten blinked and shifted his eyes unknowingly. “Who?” “The Surrealist Movement? Cubism? Ever heard of them?” Aten shrugged. “I just like the artists. I never thought of the ‘-ism-s’ they belonged to. I have read up on them, though.” “Did you go to college? Are you going now?” Aten shook his head. “No, I graduated high school and that’s it. I got too sick to attend any kind of school or go out too many places. I still go out and have fun, but I tire easily.” “Really? Sorry to hear that. I read that you were sick for a while. I assumed you recovered.” “No. I have a terminal heart condition.” “Oh, I’m sorry. The sources I examined to become familiar with your work never mentioned you were terminally ill.” Robbie entered with the sandwich for Aten. “Here you go, Aten.” “Thank you, Robbie! Robbie, do you know how much my painting ‘Demons at the Gate’ went for?” Robbie’s eyes widened and he scratched his head. “Four thousand dollars, maybe? I don’t know. It’s been a few years.” Aten nodded. “Yeah, it’s been a few years. Thanks for the sandwich, Robbie.” Robbie smiled and pat Aten’s shoulder. “Anytime.” Robbie left the studio and Aten sat beside Araqiel to eat his lunch. “So, Aten, are you one of those swingin’ bachelors?” Aten shook his head and snickered. “Nope. I’m taken.” “Oh? That’s amazing for someone so young!” Aten snickered. “I was married two years ago!” “And your father let you marry at that young age!” Aten nodded. “It’s a custom where he comes from. It was time for me to take a mate.” “Where does he come from?” “Egypt.” Araqiel opened his notepad and continued to write. “When did he immigrate?” Aten thought back. “My father came here…..twenty eight years ago.” “What about your mother?” “My mother? She’s…..English.” Araqiel nodded. “I can tell the British in your voice. Any brothers or sisters?” “Is this going to be in the article?” “No, it’s just for my own curiosity. I’m an only child, so I don’t have any other brothers or sisters.” Aten sipped from a cup of water beside him. “I have one sister. She’s older by only four minutes.” “Oh, you’re a twin!” “Kind of. We have two separate fathers, but the same mother.” “That’s interesting.” “My sister looks like her father. I look like a mix between my father and my mother.” Araqiel jotted notes down in his notepad. ‘I need more….and I know where to get it. Yami told me that he has powers like his father. He looks normal to me.’ “Thank you, Aten, I have what I need.” “When will the article come out?” “Very soon. I will let you know.” Araqiel stood up and grinned. “Have a nice day, Aten.” Araqiel left, grinning. He saw Robbie playing video games in the living room. “Thank you, Robbie. Have a good day.” “Goodbye,” Robbie said quietly. Araqiel shut the front door behind him as he left. “Just one more piece of the puzzle, then I will expose them and write the article of the century!” Updates: 11/3/06