Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Death's Not Particularly Fair ❯ The Shadows ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Yami Bakura had never had such a struggle with a female before. But with every creak the house made, she would shriek and her nails would dig into his skin. She muttered incoherently about a man with a knife, and blood and always about the Shadows. He had to clutch to her wriggling, bucking body to stop her from shoving herself away from him. He couldn't let her turn the light back on. She had to see.
Oh, and if only Bakura could tell her. But it was a deep secret that only the vampire who did this could reveal.
He dug into her mind, but this time, she could feel him. Her vampiric senses allowed her to feel the icy coldness fill her when he tried. And she shoved him back out so forcefully that he almost recoiled outside of his mental self. He had to keep a strong hold on her shirt to stop himself from passing out. For this girl, this girl that looked so simple and see-through on the outer side, was actually a 3D, complex creature. She didn't even understand herself. But she protected her thoughts automatically.
"Te'a-"
Harsh breathing. She didn't answer him, but he could hear her breathing from that annoying habit most fledglings had to bear. Filling the lungs because when they had to sit still at times of terror, they had to move something. Even if was just expanding the lungs.
"There's nothing coming for you, you see?"
Still silence. She was still afraid, but less sure of herself than before. He could almost feel her embarrassment on top of her surity that the Shadows were just biding their time.

"Can you... can you turn the light back on, now?"
Bakura pressed his hands to her back and pressed her to his chest so that her breath exploded out of her lungs. And yet she still managed to breathe, though uncomfortably, her chest heaving up and down against his own. Shallow, painful breaths that even made the vampire Bakura wince. He could also remember being a fledgling, how no one had respected him. His own master had been a particular bastard, and Yami Bakura had been beat, violated, humiliated and turned into the sour person he was today. He never wanted to see that bastard ever again, if he did, he might just destroy him.
"Te'a, if you don't stop your pathetic breathing now, I'm going to stop you myself, and you don't want that - do you?"
She shook her head.
"Good, because I'm going to teach you how to become of the best race in this world. You know you're honoured to be a part of us, not many people are chosen. And then, to show that you appreciate this, you're going to work hard. You're going to get out of being my sire and become my partner. You have to learn."
"Why did you choose me?"
Surprised, he turned to look at her. A seriously beautiful man with fluffy white hair framing his triangular shaped face. Two large eyes staring out with real human emotion, his thin lips seeming less cruel now that his features were pulled into an expression of amazement that his sire would ask such a question.

But at least her mind was easing slightly off the Shadows. She was calmer, and that could only be an improvement. If Bakura could push that fear of Shadows right out, so that the subconcious could forget that even that had crippled her emotionally for the rest of her life. So that he could make her an emotionally stable vampire. She was a real challenge, and that was what made her a ton more alluring.
Partly insane, but not so much so that he couldn't cure of her. If he could only tell her why her subconscious so pushed her to become terrified when it was dark. If only he could make her see that her fear was not of the dark, but of the person that once controlled it when she was very little.
But once memories had been pushed away from the conscious mind, it was very hard to get the person to see how irrational their terror was. It'd take allot of time and patience, two things that Bakura undoubtedly had. He would change her if it was the last thing he did. And lord knew, he had the rest of eternity to do it.

"Bakura?"
"What?"
"You didn't answer me."
"Just concentrate on realising that no Shadows are going to eat you. Don't focus on trivial things like that."
"I want to know."
"Tough."

Te'a screamed and screamed until she was hoarse. Terror enveloped her and she could hardly move. Frozen from fear, tired, hungry, thirsty. Been trapped down in Bakura's basement for hours in the pitch black dark. Chained down to the floor, unable to move. The Shadows encircling her like wolves waiting for the perfect time to pounce.
So her lips stretched to their limit in a shrill, piercing wail that never seemed to end. Never in her life had she been bound down in the middle of a room where one couldn't see their hand in front of their face it was so dark. The Shadows so intense they almost seemed blue.
Crying out for Bakura, not caring how ragged she looked. How pitiful, pathetic. She just wanted out. And it didn't matter how long he kept her down here. The fear for the dark had not vanished, but in a way it had almost intensified. Shadows whispering cruel things in the ears. She was going to die if she didn't get out of here! She knew it.
Stop screaming Te'a. He's not going to come down and save you. But we're here. We're going to keep you company, precious. You're going to be with us in the dark. Alone. And it doesn't matter if you scream when we eat you, Te'a. Because Bakura will just think that you're screaming from the dark.

We're the Shadows, Te'a. You can't get away from us. And we're going to tear your hair right out of your head and eat it. We'll eat every last piece of you, burn you all up. Even those pretty blue eyes, Te'a. They'll be gone, all gone Te'a. You'll be blind. But it won't matter because you'll feel everything we do to you.
"YUUUUUUUGIIIIIIIIIII!"

The sound of the name that burst from her own lips shocked her into silence. She stared out into nothingness as her mind's thoughts screeched to a halt. Had she really called out to Yugi to help her? Why? Why always him? Why not her mom or her father or Tristan or Joey? Why always Yugi?
And then Te'a wept, sobbing against her knee as if she wished that her existance would end. Desperately wanting the best friend she'd ever had at her side. His arm around her, telling her that everything would be okay, that he'd protect her from everything that was evil. The Shadows would be nothing because he would be there and he would chase them away.

are Shadows. I saw them I saw them I saw them I saw them!!>

Oh, she didn't know where she'd seen them. But she had been with them, she knew she had. She remembered them sliding up against her, slithering and slick. They felt awful, like someone had poured sticky oil all over her. But she couldn't remember it! Was it a dream? Was it a dream?


That thought brough a new spurt of tears. Horrible memories. Yugi backing away from her with that awful disappointed, disgusted look on his face. Horror. Yugi running from her and Bakura as soon as he was let go. Yugi running, Yugi almost blinded by tears. Yugi tripping, stumbling, but still running running running.
She brought her hands up to her face and buried her face away from sight. Trying so hard to push those thoughts away. Always of Yugi. Yugi was always there, never leaving her alone. Always in her mind, her thoughts, her dreams. He was everything. Everything. Always Everything.

We're going to get you,Te'a. Soon. We promise. Soon.

Light. Bakura had opened the door and was staring at her with those hard-soft brown eyes of his. And Te'a hardly felt human anymore. Nothing she thought was making sense. She didn't know what she was trying to tell herself. Yugi was a big part of it, but she couldn't remember. She didn't know if it was a dream or if she was just insane. Totally and utterly lost it. Lost her control, her life.
Afraid.
Oh, she was so afraid. Of Bakura. Of Yugi. Of herself. The Shadows. Everything.
"Te'a? What are you doing?"
She brought her shackled hands up to her face and wiped the tears away. Trying to clear her thoughts and think. She didn't even fully comprehend what Bakura was trying to say to her. Something, something something about what she was doing. What was she doing?
She's not yours, Bakura! She's-
We're coming for you Te'a. Soon. And you'll hate us and love us. Embrace the pain, the confusion, Te'a. Love it, Te'a. Love it.



Bakura took a step down the steps toward her. He looked slightly wary as the light from the open door upstairs shone on his sire. The girl that he'd taken so forecully from everything she'd believed in. She had stopped screamig so suddenly that it had scared him witless. Wild thoughts had entered his mind. What if Te'a had managed to find a way to kill herself down there? She was a fledgling after all, and awfully vulnerable.
"Te'a, are you alright?" he took another step, frowning, trying to see her better.
But her face was lowered, she was staring at her chains that were wrapped around both wrists and around her ankles. Staring at the bolt on the floor that the chains were wound around. Trapping her to the middle of the floor.
Stuck in a room with only a coffin for company. And of course her ever present Shadows, who backed away from the light and sneered when Bakura wasn't looking. But she wasn't answering any of his questions. Had she been so petrified by being down here that the power of speech had been robbed of her?
Te'a

Bakura stopped descending the stairs and gazed down at the girl with the most shocked look on his face. The attic draft moved his hair into his face, where they stuck to the tears that wet his face. What had he done to her? He'd been trying to help and she was stark raving mad. Totally gone. He didn't want to go down further and see that beautiful Cassandra face all blank and yet pained, tortured at the same time.
She's not Cassandra. She's insane

It was his fault. He'd read that to get rid of a fear, you had to face it head on. And he'd done that for her, and instead of ridding her of her nyctophobia, he'd just made it worse. Only now, now she wasn't screaming because she was accepting that she would die. That the damned Shadows would get her and eat her whole. But it was bullshit!
He couldn't go down any further, even as he watched his sire rock back and forth like a catatonic person. A low keening sound escaping her lips as her eyes brimmed full of fresh tears.
"Te'a. Look at me."
It took her a few seconds to understand, but she eventually brought her eyes up to meet his. He could see such torture in that stark navy blue. She looked so frail and hopeless, as if the very essence of her soul had been defeated. As if she had nothing left in her heart to care for. And she looked so tired. As if she didn't have the will to carry on. As if the very thought made her want to pass out.
And yet Bakura still didn't climb down the stairs. He felt a terrible guilt swallow him up whole, and the very nature he had. The core of his being, hated himself for it. It wasn't his fault if she was a nut, after all.
"They're going to kill me" she said, but she said it dully, as if the thought bored her. She met his gaze directly when she said it, and she smiled. That smile that showed that she was mad, a smile that had no joy behind it, but more of a bitterness, "After all, Yugi said the Shadows were all in my head. So my head's going to kill me, and then they'll put 'suicide' on my cause of death. Won't that be funny?"
He stared at her some more and saw the tears. No, she wasn't insane. She was just calmly hysterical.
He felt relief soar through him.

Te'a wasn't insane. She was just truamatised by having her life pulled upside down in three short days. The hysteria he could see in her hadn't quite burst forth yet, and that was why he reffered to it as "calm hysteria". It was just verging on the point of overflowing, and only because at heart she was a rational person was she managing to keep her panic mostly inside.
She was confused and scared, yes. And maybe that made her a temporary babbling idiot. But she'd recover. He'd teach her. He was her master after all.
He descended the rest of the stairs and knelt down next to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, "You should be hungry now, for blood my sire. Do you want to go and feed?"
She let out an icy cold, shuddery breath, and Bakura found that she was shivering all over.
"Bakura. They're coming soon" she hissed.
Her shackled hands rose up, and her fingers caught hold of the front of his shirt in an unbreakable grip. She pulled him so close to her that their noses almost touched, "Bakura. Please, don't make me stay in the dark"
"You're tired, Te'a. You haven't slept for a long time. Come with me."
"I'm not the pretty lady in the picture."
"What picture?"
"The picture... in the bathroom."
Cassandra.
"I know that. I never said you were. But don't worry about that now, my sire. I'm going to uncuff you, and then I want you to get up, okay?"
"Leave the light on."
"Yes. Yes."
"They're coming soon. I'm going to die."
"Shhhhhh."
"They're coming."

Bakura reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the set of keys. He found that his hands were shaking too, and was thouroughly unnerved by it. For he was Yami Bakura. Why should he be afraid?
Te'a grabbed him again. Took him by surprise and made him drop the keys.
"Let me speak with Ryou. Please."
"What?" he tried to retrieve the keys.
"Ryou. He's like Yugi. Let me be with him... just for awhile."
"Ryou will soon no longer exist, Te'a. His body's growing too dependant on me."
That caught her attention, she looked up at him, totally startled, "What do you mean?"
Sighing, Bakura managed to get ahold of the keys again, even though his fingers trembled so badly he almost dropped them again without any help from Te'a. He pushed the key into the lock as he tried to think about how to word what he was going to tell her next. Was it even wise to tell her? She was so very close to a breakdown, after all.
"I have inhabited Ryou's body for a long time, understand?"
She nodded.
"I have powers that you yourself will not believe, little Te'a. And when I share them inside Ryou's body, when I use my powers... he becomes more and more dependant on them. On my powers."
"W-what are you trying to say?"

He got the left cuff off of her, and watched idly as it clinked noisily to the basement floor, along with a great deal of chain. Then he looked straight into those miserable eyes and took both her hands in his, one still shackled and the other free. Trying mutely to prepare her for what he was going to tell her.
"Te'a. Without me, without my spirit and my power... Ryou will die. But as long as I remain, he fades away until he becomes fully under my control... till he's a part of me."
"So, you're saying that... that my friend is going to die no matter what happens?"
Bakura nodded, and watched those big lovely eyes darken with even more torment. She looked away from him, her forehead creasing and her lip wobbling slightly.
But with visible effort, she brought herself under control and faced him. She seemed to be steeling herself for something, and pulled in a deep unnessesary breath, "Bakura-kun, if this is the case, can I speak to him? Please, just one last time, if I am never see him again?"
Bakura thought about it as he unlocked her remaining handcuff. Her ankles were still bound, but she didn't need to move them to speak. When he spoke to her again, he did so with grimness, "Te'a, you do realise that even now, Ryou is weak. I can't give you much time because if I leave him out too long on his own, he'll most likely pass out... then die."
Te'a's face crumpled, but she still managed to keep from weeping. Though by a mere thread of self-control that was thin and insufficient.
"Fine."

And suddenly Ryou was there in front of her. Those sharp wicked eyes were wide, fearful and feverish, like a doe. But he still managed a thin smile that was sad but not without emotion.
"Ryou" Te'a threw her arms around him, "I'm so sorry."
"No" she felt his quivering hand on her back, "I'm the one who's sorry that he's destroying everything that was ever important to you."
But Te'a couldn't help but feel wonderful when she felt Ryou's heartbeat against her own empty chest. Feeling his warmth wash over her as if she'd just sunk into a bath. And even if the heartbeat was weak and irregular, it was still a sign of life, still something to show her that Ryou was alive for now. That he was okay.
But even as they broke out of the hug, Te'a could see trickles of sweat running down his brow. He looked tired, exhausted, worn out.
And when he dies, little Te'a. We'll feast on his soul, his body. Just like we're going to do to you. Soon.
But for once, Te'a waved away that voice. If the Shadows got her, it was better than the long, dreary eternal existance that faced her. She would rather die out in a flash of colour and light, than go on forever as a dull grey nothing that lived off of others to keep existing, if not living. Surviving.
"Aren't you scared, Ryou-chan?"
"I used to be. All the time."
"Not anymore?"
"No."

Ryou smiled. A stronger smile this time. Ad she saw real love in that smile. A love for her. A love that would die with him.
She tried to tell herself that she was being arrogant. But she knew that this wasn't the case. She had vampiric senses on top of her normal intuition, and could sense almost every thought he had without much trouble. No, not thoughts exactly, but feelings. And love flowed about him like a tight clinging aura. Even if the eyes didn't wince at looking at her, and the smallest silver tear escaped him.
But no more flowed. For little Ryou had probably already sobbed half of this controlled life he possessed, and simply had grown tired of it. Now he was as ready to die as she was. The sadness was gone. Washed away by a terrible cold that seeped in like something real from the chest. Crawling over your mind as tears dried on the face.
The Cold was as real as the Shadows. The Warmth as real as the Light.
But humans and vampires alike were wretched creatures who never appreciated the beautiful things in life for very long. The Cold was all-consuming, of all emotion, of all feeling. Sometimes it was a blessing to have the Cold, and sometimes it was a curse.
When you were reeking from defeat and anguish, like the two of them now. The Cold would be invited graciously, loved in a sense, and kept to the heart till the heart itself stopped.
"She's not yours Bakura.":Ryou whispered.
Te'a's eyes widened, "You know what he meant by that?"
"Yes."
There was a pause, then she sighed. "You're not going to tell me what Yugi meant when he said that, are you? You're not going to tell me how he was going to finish that sentence."
"I would tell you. But it would crush everything that keeps you hanging onto your sanity. Trust me when I say that finishing that sentence would be the end of you, everything you believe in."
"Then Yugi knows something, doesn't he?"
Ryou smiled strangely, but said nothing more.

But Te'a could see that the few short seconds he'd been free was taking their toll of his physical body. His breathing was harsh, laboured. His heart fluttered unevenly. Te'a could hear it from where she was.
"Ryou-"
He put her hand over his heart and nodded, "I know."
She wanted to say something meaningful. To tell him that she loved him.
But she couldn't. It wasn't true. The true person she loved was beyond her reach forever. She couldn't lie to Ryou, because even if she tried to make it sound as if she was just fond of him as a friend, he would see the uneasiness in her eyes. And he would be hurt. He was dear to her, she didn't want him to be anguished just before his impending dissolving from this world.
And anyway, aside from Ryou's exhaustion, Te'a found bright sparkly lights in her own vision. This was all to much for her to take in right now. She didn't want to accept more, didn't want to take in anymore.
Blackness, dark green, all whirling. Whirling prettily too. And shadows too, but not the Shadows. Pretty shadows that held no malice.
Then maroon, and oh that went nicely with the dark green. All swirling together, blotching like oil in place, covered by the cute little shadows. Faces. Yugi's face. Ryou's face. All happy. No exhaustion. Joyous times together as friends. All in the maroon and green and black. More little shadows, blotches, splotches. Whirling, always whirling.

There was Yugi taking hold of her hand and racing with her up to the school gate because they were late for homeroom. Meeting up with Tristan, because he was late too. All getting scolded by the vice headmaster.
Detention together, sneaking notes under the desks and having to cover their mouths to keep from giggling out loud whenever Tristan wrote something funny.
Joey being put out. He wanted to be in detention too.
Changing. Still whirling about in shadows, blotches, crimson and green but changing. Whirling change.
Dan.
Yes Dan. Dan looking down at her with an expression she couldn't understand. Twisted. Maybe even slightly sad? For her or for memory? She didn't know.
Te'a, you must wake up. Dan said. Well, not exactly said. But his lips moved, and she got the suggestion of what he was trying to tell her.
But Te'a didn't want to wake up. Oh no. Te'a had seen enough. She had had it now. No more. Oh please, God if you have any mercy, no more. No more, please please please. She didn't want to know, she didn't want to hear about it. She wanted to stay here where the shadows were beautiful.
Te'a, you can't hide in this state forever. Wake up. Don't punish yourself like this.

Don't worry about that now, Te'a. You're not Cassandra. We all know that, but you do have strength enough to pull yourself out of this. You're just scared.
The Shadows were coming.
No. They're not coming.

Te'a's colours and blotches and shadows faded away and then she drifted in a more natural sleep. Dreaming of times past. Of all her friends, her family. Yugi. Again Yugi. Always Yugi.
But they were nice memories of Yugi, and she appreciated them this time. She even saw Dan sometimes. Felt his presence in her head, watching over her as if she were his sire instead of Bakura's. She was safe. For the first time in her life she felt completely safe and at ease. Dan was watching, protecting her memories, her mind.
"Where the shadows are beautiful" she murmured in sleep, bringing her hand up under her chin and curling like a baby.
But what was the most aweing, stunning and slightly shocking was that her thumb found itself into her mouth, as if she really were an infant. As if her dreams were carrying her to childhood. bringing her down to a younger self. A peaceful little toddler with nothing bad in the world but the monsters who always hid under the bed, mommy, go and look before they get out.

"Te'a!"
A sharp kick to her side brought her around very quickly. Her thumb jerked out of her mouth almost as if it were ashamed of being there, her eyes flew open, and she found herself on the cold, stone floor of Bakura's basement, still with her ankles shackled to the big bolt in the middle of the floor. She blinked, and it took her a minute to figure out where she was, and why she was't in her own bed at home with mommy bringing a cup of warm cocoa, saying that it was nearly breakfast time.
"Bakura?" she squinted up at him.
But a horrible tickly scratchy feeling was going up along her throat. She was thirsty. She desperately needed something to drink. Her throat was so dry it felt as if she'd swallowed sand.
"Bakura, can you get me some water?"
Bakura snorted and grabbed her by the elbow, forcing her up till she was face-level with him. His sneer was painful, making her feel as if she'd said something stupid. And even when he was sneering, Yami Bakura was beautiful. He looked like a demon and an angel all in one. Wispy white, fluffy hair framing a pale, unmarked face. Dark, brooding brown eyes, full of intelligence and cunning. Sharp features. Pointed nose, pointed chin. Blunt tipped ears. High forehead covered by spiky bangs. Those cruel lips curved upward.
"Water? Wht do you think you are? Human?"
"Oh" the words hit her hard, like a blow in the stomach, "Oh yes, of course."
"You slept the entire day that I was at school hunting down that nuisance of a boy, Kaiba. It's night time now, if you're not too cowardly to feed off someone else."

Those words were even harder than the last, and made an icy breeze crawl up her spine. Eat off someone else's lifeforce? She'd rather die!
"No, no I'm going to."
Bakura smiled sneakily and dropped her. She landed with a hard thunk to the floor, bruising the skin on her elbows and knees. When she looked up again, she could still see that evil smile on Bakura's face. A totally all-knowing smile that unsettled her. "You don't want to drink the blood of others, little one?" he whispered.
She winced and shook her head, "You can hurt me any way you want, I'm not going to."
"Oh no, sweetheart" his smirk was growing more pronounced by the second, "I'm not going to hurt you... not at all."
He slid his fingers into his jeans and pulled out a long, curved hunting knife. It froze the very marrow in her bones to look at it, but Te'a steeled herself for the pain. She would suffer if she had to. He could carve his sodding initials into her if he had the mind to, she wasn't going to hurt anyone else.
Still smiling, Bakura brought the knife to his own wrist. And to her amazement, drew the blade across the fragile skin.

A thin line of blood appeared, as if someone had drawn it across him with a red pen. Then it began to well out, trickling down the length of his arm. Rolling crimson. Dribbling down in long lines till it reached the crook of his arm and began to fill up there like a little pool. She watched as that little pool overfilled and began to drip drip drip to the floor at her feet.
The tickling at the back of her throat grew far worse. Her eyes watered and her lips grew dry. She had to lick them twice, and still they seemed parched. But that blood, it looked so smooth and perfect. The light from the candle adding lustre, shimmering, glistening. As if polish to a glossy finish.
Better looking than a jewel. Shining in her eyes, burning them with its simple beauty. And oh she wanted it. She wanted to feel it in her mouth, let it roll down her shrivelled throat. It would be so velvety smooth. Silken liquid trickling down into her starved stomach.

Te'a pounced, not thinking of what she was doing, and sank her sharp canines into Bakura's already bleeding arm. Her jaw clenched, thouroughly breaking the skin and making the trickle become a flow.
And yes it was beautiful. Tasty, exquisite. Like nothing she'd ever had before.
And she couldn't get enough, her hands clenched onto Bakura and she wouldn't let him go. Sucking in more and more of the blood, and yet still hungry and thrisy all in one. She didn't ever want to let go.

But Bakura solved that problem for her very quickly. Laughing, he siezed her by the throat and made her let go. Squeezing her jaw till her teeth popped free of his skin. Still laughing as she struggled to attack him again, he threw her against the floor. WHAP on her back, right on the awful stone floor. Not that she even felt the pain. Her head was buzzing. She couldn't think straight.

She pulled herself back into a sitting position, her ankles chains rattling. Licking the remaining blood off of her lips with relish. She stared at Bakura hungrily as if he were food.
"I'm afraid that my blood won't fill you up, honey-bunch. If you want even better filling blood... try that of a mortal. Much better tasting than that of a person who's been dead for quite awhile."
"Uhhhh..." she didn't know what she was trying to think. Something about not wanting to kill people.
It is delicious isn't it? Are you sure you don't want to come with me to get food, sweetheart?
Bakura was still laughing wickedly at her. His fangs drooping down even more when he did. His one hand clutched to his hip as it began to hurt.
"I want... I want it."
"Hmmmm?" he put his hand up to his ear, "What was 'it' you wanted?"
"Bluh..." she coughed, "Blood"
"Are you sure? Wouldn't that be killing people? Little Te'a wouldn't want people to die, would she? She's far too nice for that - isn't she? Drinking people's blood, icky, gross, yuck."
"I want it!"

His eyebrow raised and the smile was back, "No, I think not, my angel. I should leave you here alone for another day."
"NO!"
"What's the matter, princess? You look shocked." he grinned.
"Don't leave me... not here. I'm hungry, Bakura."
Bakura got down on his knees with the silver key in hand. His eyebrows puckered down, but he didn't say anymore. He had to take his job as a teacher seriously. Marik had, and his sire had become brilliant in the short time that she'd been dead. And Rebbecca had been just as innocent, just as goot natured as Te'a was. If Marik could do it, then so could he.
Unlocking her cuffs, he helped her to her feet. Loving it now that her skin was just as icy as his was. She was just as cold as he was. Her heart was still, as his was. Like she was a part of him.
"I'll bring you with, but on condition that you do everything I say you must do."
She nodded, looking feverish.
"As of yet, I don't really have clothes for you to wear. So either you wear the school uniform you've got on - or something of mine."
"Does it matter?"
"Well, where we're going, we don't to attract attention. And shoolgirls always attract attention, sweetheart."
"Don't you have the pretty lady's clothes?"
Bakura stiffened, then looked into her face very seriously. Those wide eyes, the way her hair fell, her facial bones. Te'a looked just like Cassandra. And after all, why not let her look like his dead wife?
"I do... but they're old fashioned... that will attract attention too."

Te'a thought about it, then shrugged, "I'm hungry, I don't care what I wear."
"Alright then. Go to the room with the white curtains, the one I told you that you could have. Pick something of mine that you want to wear... maybe someday you can wear something of hers, but not yet. Okay? Not yet. But soon."
Soon. We're coming to get you soon, Te'a.
She turned to go, but Bakura pulled her back, "And tie your hair up. It's windy out tonight."
"Yes."

When the two of them finally left the cottage, the stars were out. The moon was lovely too, bathing the two shadowy figures in a soft light.
Te'a was wearing the tightest pair of jeans she'd ever worn in her entire life. Her buttocks felt like they were suffocating in denim. And when she tried to walk she had to do so very carefully in case she split a seam somewhere. And that was not the most desirable thing she wanted to happen, especially not in front of Bakura.
Her t-shirt was loose, thank God. It had holes in inappropriate places, but it was the only t-shirt in Bakura's cupboard that didn't have something gruesome displayed on the front. And Te'a didn't want people to think that she was some sort of psychopath, as Bakura was. So she chose the shirt with blue and white stripes.
"God" she muttered, "Why do the only pants that are long enough for me also have to be bottom haters?"
Bakura sniggered, "I can't help it if you're too tall for your own good. Maybe we'll stop by Kaiba's place and grab one of his faggy things for you to wear. He's tall enough."
"No"
"What's your problem now?"
"Seto wants to kill me!" she squeaked.
"If he tries, I'll kill him. Both Marik and I are far too powerful for his stupid little weapons."
"But I'm not."
"I won't let him get you, princess."

Bakura took her hand, and for some bizzarre reason Te'a didn't try to pull free. It was comfortable, and it seemed the most friendly thing Bakura'd done for her so far. She wasn't about to reject it.
"Most vampires have to learn how to fly." he said, stopping in the middle of the field, "But you are a sire of a Vampyre with wings, so yours will grow in time. When that happens, I'll teach you."
"So...?"
"So I'm going to take you on my back again. Try not to clutch my wings quite as hard as you did yesterday morning."
"I won't."

She watched distantly as his wings burst forth. Giant, bat-like and so grey they looked a shiny black. But just as he moved to lift her on his back, she twitched out of the way, "Wait, if I go on your back again, I'll pass out from the height. Can't you just carry me so that I don't have to look down?"
Bakura considered it, "But if I do that, I won't be able to defend you from danger if it comes. My hands won't be free."
Te'a stared at him, "And what sort of danger do you expect to encounter when you're airborne? A bird? A jet? Aliens?"
"Other vampires" he growled.
"I thought you vampires were all friends."
"No, not all. I have deadly enemies, sire" his lips curled into a mirthless grin, "I don't expect to run into them now, but you never know."
"If they do come, you won't drop me... will you?"
"Course not. A master Vampyre never drops his sire. A sire is a big responsibility to take on, Te'a. You don't just have one for the fun of company or some bullshit. You're supposed to teach them, take care of them, and defend them with your life... which was why I didn't bother with having one for a long time. I was too busy for that kind of crap."
"Fine, then carry me. I've already faced the Shadows alone... is that enough for you or do you want me to suffer more?"
"I don't do this to make you suffer!" he snarled, "I do it to help you learn! You're far too fucking innocent for your own good and you need to learn that you life is no longer a breeze."
"So you make me suffer by stuffing me in the tightest jeans from hell?!"
Bakura burst out laughing.

"It isn't funny" she said with dignity, "You're just a shrimp, and now I have to go through agony because of it."
"A shrimp? Hardly. You're just too goddamned tall. I think the only one to match your height would be Seto Kaiba."
A sudden thought came to her, "You weren't serious when you said we were going to snatch some of his clothes for me, were you?"
"Of course I was. And if you don't shut up, I'll make you wear his mouldy underwear too."
Te'a wrinkled her nose.

Rolling his eyes, Bakura lifted her up in his arms and looked skyward, "Seems only yesterday you were yelling at me to wear underpants."
"That was yesterday."
"Oh? Seemed to me like ages ago... ahhhh well." he sighed and with a great flap of his wings, he rose into the air, "You actually quite shocked me. I never expected a sop like you to shout out a dreaded word."
Te'a gave him a grim stare, "I do know how to say 'underpants' you know. And anyway. What kind of moron are you not to wear any?"
"What is this? Third degree 500 metres above the Earth? Do you have a squiz down precious Yugi's pants everyday to make sure he's wearing little briefs too?"
"Of course not!"
Bakura snickered, "I wouldn't put it past you."
"Could we change the subject please?" she grimaced.
"Why? I thought you just said that boy's underpants wasn't a touchy subject."
"It isn't a fitting subject for a high ranked Vampire!"
"Oh? So now do I have to follow rules in another book besides the Bible? What? Rules for High Ranked Immortals? Thou shalt not discuss underpants?"

Te'a sighed and pressed her fingers to her eyes, "You're impossible, you know that? I didn't say it was in a rule book. I said it wasn't fitting. I bet Dracula was far more charming."
"What do you know? I bet you haven't even read the original Dracula, by Bram Stoker, have you? I bet you think the Count was a handsome young vampire with exquisite charm?"
"Well, it's that way in the movies."
"Don't be a twat. Dracula was an old man! He had a white moustache! I know, I read the book myself. And Van Helsing was also an old man. The Proffessor Van Helsing who tried to stop Dracula, he was fucking old!"
"Okay okay, don't be so bloody touchy."
"Me?! Miss. I'm afraid of my own shadow? LITERALLY!"
"I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO MAKE ME YOUR SIRE!"
Silence.

Bakura looked down at her, his eyebrows curved down. He looked hurt, and furious. So angry that he couldn't find the words to throw her that would be as painful as what she just said. And it hurt because it was true, because Te'a had never asked to become his sire.
For the first time, Bakura had picked himself a sire. And one he had actually wanted out of the thousands of worthless humans in the way. And here she was screaming at him that she didn't even want to be here. If only he'd considered that fact before he took her. Now he had no choice, once his sire, she was like his child. And a parent didn't ever just let their child go.
Well, some did. But you weren't allowed to do that with a sire. A sire needed to be taught by someone. And if his or her master gave up on them, no one else would want someone else's sire.
Te'a turned grumpily over to stare at the stars. The stars would always be there, in one form or another, no matter what she was or who she was with.
She could no longer really feel the cold of the wind like she had yesterday on the way to school. But that was only because her skin was icy without the help of the wind.

"Sorry" she muttered dully.
"What?"
"I said, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it" he said gruffly, but couldn't help but feel better all the same.

Before they could get any further, their path was suddenly blocked by a grinning, floating figure with wild blonde hair, tanned skin and sly light purple eyes.
"Carrying your sire I see" Marik sneered, "You are dedicated, Bakura."
"You carried yours everywhere until her wings grew too"
Rebbecca arrived as if on cue, her great wings flapping like crazy as they were still a little too small for her to handle without effort. Her hair was tied behind her head and mostly covered by a leather cowgirl hat. She smiled kindly at Te'a, as if telling her that there was no shame in being carried around. But Te'a still felt stupid, all of them could fly and her wings weren't even close to becoming developed. They weren't even there.
"Maybe so, Bakura." Marik said, "But I carried her on my back like a clever person would. You need your hands free should you be attacked."
Te'a's face went pink. If Bakura uttered one word about her being afraid of heights, she would just die. She didn't want them to look down at her just as people always did when they knew of her terror for the dark.
No, she wasn't in a human world now. Why should it be fair that she be disrespected when she was a vampire too? She couldn't take it.

And yet, the look of undaunted love on Rebbecca's face whenever she looked at Marik's face was what jolted Te'a out of her humiliation and into disgust. How on Earth could the child love a person who'd changed her life forever, ripped her away from her parents and made her do his bidding?
She would never stop being thirteen. Never taste the pleasures of adulthood, ever. She'd be stuck as a child, as a newly fledged teen, for the rest of her life. And she didn't see. Couldn't possibly comprehend what eternity was like. Few could. Not even Te'a could totally grasp the idea of living forever. Of never ending.
And yet, as Te'a curled up in Bakura's arms. She thought she'd never seen anything as sad as the ignorantly smiling face of this child.
"Is this her first hunt?" Marik asked, smirking widely, and interrupting Te'a's thoughts.
Bakura inclined his head, letting his white hair cover most of his expression, "Yes, she's never drunk the blood of a mortal before."
"You going to teach her, oh wise commader?"
Their voices were hardly recognised by Te'a, her vision was fixed on the happy face of Rebbecca Hawkins. And she knew that she herself would never be able to love her master as the girl loved Marik. And also so confused as to how someone so young could hold the second in command in such high regard, how could it even be possible? He had taken her away from her life!

Te'a jerked at the cynical sound of that thought, and immediately tangled against it,
Don't be ridiculous, Te'a came Bakura's voice, I suggest you ask her these things yourself instead of sitting there, guessing
Te'a thought helplessly.

Marik crossed his arms, his wings flapping elegantly through the air as he gazed smugly at Bakura and his sire, "Oh, you two are too infatuated with each other for your own good."
"Huh?"
"I asked you a question, you fool. Are you, my wise commader, going to teach the runt to hunt?"
"I took that as a wisecrack, and not a question"
Marik tossed back his bushy, spiky and very much springy blonde hair with an arrogant, knowing air, but he didn't have a chance to say anything, because Bakura interrupted, a stern tone to his voice.
"And do me a favour, Marik-kun. Don't refer to my sire as 'runt' ever again. Especially when she's listening."
Yami Marik inclined his head respectfully, looking over at his sire with an unfathomable expression before turning light purple eyes back to rest on Te'a, then Bakura, "You're right, of course. I apologise."
Bakura ignored this, as he hated being apologised to when said in such an insincere manner. And that bitch Marik knew it too. Bakura could just throttle him if he weren't such a damned good second in command.
"My sire and I are moving tomorrow... back to places not so infested with these humans."
"You wish to be away from your food source?"
"I wish to be away from that goddamned Yugi Moto. If I have another emotional scene from Te'a seeing him, I'm apt to go mad."
"That's a bit like Rebbecca was when I first made her."
"And?"

Yami Marik smirked, giving Rebbecca another expressionless look that she returned with a blush tinging her cheeks. Those grey-green eyes filling with a sort of pleading, as if she were begging him not to speak of embarrassing times. But Marik was ruthless, as usual, and turned his back on her. His manic grin making him look possessed.
"And what? Do you want to know what I did to stop her?"
Bakura's lip curled, "Obviously."
"Hmmm hmmm hmmm, is the great Bakura-sama seeking the lowly second's advice? My, my, what has become of you?"
Bakura's white eyebrows puckered down, and his fangs started to lengthen slowly over his lip. He didn't appreciate being ridiculed, by the looks of it. And Yami Marik knew it.
"If you wish to tell me, tell me. If not, carry on with your business and leave me to mine. I'm not in the mood for games."
Marik's grin grew, if possible, even wider, and he fixed Te'a with a leer that made heat spread up the back of her neck, "Well, my beloved Leader... when dear Rebbecca here starting crying and begging me to let her go whenever she saw one of her relatives - mostly her grandpa - I just grabbed hold of her arm and wouldn't let her go. And I'd make her watch that family member until they were out of sight. She'd cry and struggle futilely against me, but eventually she learnt not to go back to them."
"So you're saying that I should let her suffer to make her learn?"

Te'a's heart lept into her mouth. No, no, she didn't want Balura to hold her back whenever she saw Yugi. She wanted to run to Yugi and embrace him. To tell him that everything would be okay. And that she'd never let anything happen to him. And of course, that she was sorry she was what she was. But how could she help it? She'd never had much choice in the matter.

"I don't think that method would work for this one, Marik" Bakura said seriously, making a faint ray of hope rise into her chest, "I have to fight her on her fears already. I don't want to fight her on everything."
"Oh? Is Bakura-sama saying that the stresses of a sire are getting too much for him?"
"No" Bakura held his temper, "I just think it unwise to provoke more fears into her. I would find it simpler and far more effective just to take her away from Yugi, not to torture her with him."
Yami Marik shrugged non-commitedly, "Very well, friend. It is your sire, not mine. And just to let you know, I might pop in before you leave tomorrow night... right?"
"If you must" Bakura sighed.
"Glad to see your enthusiasm, my friend... but right now, I'm afraid I must leave you... Rebbecca would pull my beautiful hair out if I deny her blood any longer."
"Fine, fine. Have fun"
"I will" Marik flashed a million dollar smile, and brushed his hair (which incidently was beautiful) out of his eyes. Then waved teasingly back at Bakura as he took flight.

Before Te'a could comment, Bakura said: "I know, I don't like him either."
She was careful not to insult Marik in case Bakura was just testing her, but she couldn't stop herself from saying, "I like Dan better."
"Of course you do. That man hardly says a word and yet everyone is so goddamned enchanted with him. Even Ursula can't resist being nice when he's around. And Ursula isn't a person you would normally describe as 'nice', dear Te'a - as you might have noticed... I feel sorry for Cherise sometimes... how that sire takes that witch's bullshit I will never know."
Te'a dug her fingernails into Bakura insistently, her navy eyes blazing, "Enough of this. I'm hungry... and I don't want to stop by every suck friend you have to chat."
"You ordering me around, little one?"
"I might be. What's it to you? You're not the hungry one, I'm the one who's being starved here - not you."
"Oh, I see what Marik means about having hair ripped out. Sire's are so grumpy when they want blood. Although, Rebbecca had far more control over herself than you."
"I'm proud of her," Te'a snarled, "but would you please stop hovering in mid-air talking about things I don't care about? I'm hungry!"
"Mmmmm... and what if I were to drop you, little one? All the way down you'd fall... then... SPLAT. Maybe then you'd appreciate me more than you do now."
"Piss off"
Bakura laughed, his long canines slipping out, whether by accident or on purpose, she didn't know. For the next thing she knew, the strong arms that supported her were gone. One minute she was feeling the icyness of them under her back, the fingers clutched at her arms, the feeling of being pushed up against a vacant chest. The next minute she felt those secure arms slip out from under her, letting her go.

Te'a Gardner had never been more shocked in her life when Bakura just let her drop like a stone to the ground. She couldn't fly, she couldn't do anything to save herself. All she could do was watch the colours of the land below mix into one, making an elaborate portrait of many shades of grey, black, and the rest of the colours all stilted with shadows.
was all she had time to think before her thin lips stretched, opened, and she was forcing a scream loose.
She forced it out because she was facing what she was falling into, and the air rushing down her throat was choking her.
The land rushing up to meet her so fast. Every second coming faster and faster. The whirling sound, the cold of the Jack Frost up against her. And Bakura had not yet caught her. No, no he was still up above her with his arms crossed, watching her descent with a smile on his face.
"YUUUUUUGIIIIIIII!" she screamed, not even aware of the name she screamed this time. Her thoughts too disjointed and overlapped to know what she was thinking. All she knew was the ground was getting ever closer. And she was going to hit it. She was going to splatter into a million pieces, and then Yugi would never be a part of life anymore. Life wouldn't be a part of her life anymore.

Closer, closer. The leaves on the trees becoming apparent. The seperate stones on the gravel. The cracks in-between the stones on the sidewalk. The ants crawling across the loose tile in the middle of that sidewalk.
And then...
CRACK.
Pain
Te'a Gardner exploded against the sidewalk in front of an old lady walking her dog. The poor hag only had time to register: What a clear night it is, I can breath the air just like I did with Arthur. I wonder if he would have liked to be here too and- OH MY GOD!
Something had fallen right in her path. Something that just erupted blood everywhere, splashing the fluid all across the old woman's face, matting her hair, sticking her her clothes, even getting stuck in the dog's hair.
Bits of bone shattered the stone pavement, the body of the sixteen year old girl cracking the stone tiles because of the great height at which she had dropped. Brain, sinew and bone blasting into nothing but liquid. Showering up through the air, all blood and clothing, and even rubber coloured bangles rolling off the edge and into the gutter.
Bits of hair still sticking to the remains of a sculp. Intestines and other viscera nearly mashed to a pulp. This object in the middle of the road having once been a full, whole human. Now it was almost impossible to tell if it had even been human. As the bones were so crushed that it could have been anything large.

The old lady screamed. The painted red mouth spreading open in a wail of shock that was so truamatised that it faded into nothing within seconds, so that silence enveloped her.
It just fell, just fell... and look at the blood, all the blood. Was it human, oh my God, look at the BLOOD!
She didn't pass out even, for this particular old lady had never once fainted in her life, and prided herself on being steel. But she did admittedly come close to it. Staggering slightly on low heels, the wrinkled face so horribly twisted into disgust and horror that it made her look ten times as ugly.
The blood, the blood, the BLOOD.
But not just the blood. Just the little human things like the bracelets bouncing up into the air once, then scattering, being painted crimson with this wretched creature's blood so that the original colours were hard to decipher, landing back on the pavement, rolling, falling into the gutter and lying still.

And Te'a... she was still alive. For a mere shattering of the body was not enough to kill any vampire, never mind a vampire of her ranking. But she felt every bit of pain. And she could not think for the white hot pain. She couldn't move, couldn't even realise that she wasn't exactly whole anymore. That she was nothing more than a splattered, gooey mess in the middle of the pavement.
She remembered the quick rush of fear, how fast it had gone. In movies it was always in slow motion, but in real life, you had precious few seconds to do anything but watch the ground come closer and closer until the Pain came. Until it felt so bad, like the Shadows were chewing on her without mercy. And it was hopeless. This Pain was not to be endured. She couldn't take it. No, this was not endurable.
Distantly, she felt the screams of the old lady. But everything was a bloody haze. There was no adreniline to pump to rid herself of the pain. Her hearing was as cracked as the bits of ear all over the place, her sight as fragmented as her hearing because her eyes were nothing more than a pile of glue.
And her thoughts. Her thoughts were hard, so cracked was her brain.
If she were human, she would of course, be dead. But she was a Vampire. And she had no choice but to stay there as her healing process began to painfully work. Being a fledgling, it was still agonosingly slow. So slow that the old woman didn't even notice it for a long time.

The old lady was in fact, still standing stock still with her hand at her chest, that silent scream still etched onto her face. The dog barking and whining at the body, which it sensed was not a normal body. A body was just a thing with no Life Smell to it, but the dog could smell everything from fear to the life that still coursed through this person.
The dog continued to bark as it realised another approaching presence. By the smell probably a male, but not human... not like anything the poor dog had ever smelt before in its life. The smell of wisdom, of age, of sadness, and blood, and darkness, and black. All so many things twisting inside one being. A far more sinister smell than that of the unfortunate object on the pavement.
It reared up on its hind legs and barked up at the night sky, jumping, letting out afeared whines between the barking, licking its muzzle, barking, whining some more. Then it became too overcomed by fear to carry on with the noise, and instead skulking around the old lady's legs, whimpering softly, its tail between its legs.
The old lady gulped, finally having closed her mouth now.

Something strange happening on the pavement. Surely there had not been an entire perfect hand amongst the bloody pieces before? But why could she now see one, as if that pale hand had escaped all injury. The nails not even broken, the fingers thin and elegant, the back of the hand smooth and unmarked, as if its owner had never partaken in a 500 metre fall but had just been cleanly chopped off.
The old woman didn't sense a smirking Bakura above her head, hovering expectantly with his arms still crossed. Her vision was set on that hand, because it seemed to be growing more of a wrist now. And surely there had been no wrist before? Was her eyesight failing at last? Was she going senile?
But how could that be, when she'd kept her grip for so long? Her hard face, and rigid iron curls suggested a firmness and no nonsense style in this woman's lifestyle. And now there was this bizzarre event happening right before her eyes. This hand that seemed to be perfectly fine, and getting better by the second.
She was looking into the face of pure madness, of evil, of demons. She gripped tightly onto her cross with gnarled hands, mouthing stupidly, trying to say the Lord's Prayer. And she could not run. No she couldn't run because her low heels were glued to the ground. And she was scared. This was evil, she knew it.
And the dog was forever huddling by her veined legs, ever whimpering. Tautening her nerves until the hag felt she might start babbling like an idiot.

And now, there were two hands! This was impossible! She was a hundred percent sure that there had only been one before. And now amongst the bloody mess were two unhurt hands. Lying limply against the pavement as if it was their right to be there. But it was impossible! How could there be these hands when before there had been nothing?
And did that left hand just twitch? She must be absolutely off her rocker, but she was positive that one of the hands had moved weakly. That the fingers had flexed stiffly. Almost agonisingly, as if in pain.
Maybe hands always moved so when the person was dead? Oh Lord help her, she didn't know. She hadn't heard of such a thing happening before.

Bakura drifted down until his sneakers touched down on the floor, the big smirk still stuck on his face. He was enjoying this, and was willing to bet his life that Marik had never thought of doing this to Rebbecca.
Folding his wings quietly behind him, he watched more skin slowly attatch itself to those hands. Bones fitting together like a puzzle, moving, forming the Vampire named Te'a.
He knew he would have to be very careful however. He couldn't make Te'a hate him too much, for one day she might seek her revenge on him and kill him. He knew that had been done in the past, because if taught right, sires could become powerful enough to be of threat. And he never wanted Te'a to become a threat to him.
He stepped up behind the old woman to watch closely, deeply interested in what an entire body healing must look like. He had never seen a vampire so badly shattered before, not so that the body became moosh, he wanted to know what it must look like. A disintegrated body reforming such as hers was.
Maybe I helped her with her fear of heights - you never know he thought with a smile, And this hag must be quite strong to have stood standing for so long. If I didn't already have a sire, she might have been good as one. One never knows... but I can't now. I would never want two sires

And Te'a was having trouble. Even as the muscles of her arm started knitting to the bone, even as her skull slowly started to reattatch itself, she was in the worst pain she had ever felt. Never in her life has she thought it would be like this. Not falling. Oh God, she'd do whatever Bakura wanted from her from now on, if he just didn't make her feel this ever again.
The pain was indescribable. Even the healing was anguish. Nothing in the whole world could feel as bad as this did. If she hadn't been a Vampire, she would be stark, raving mad by now. Except that it was horribly difficult for pain to turn a Vampire, not even the worst pain could do anything. They would get over it.
What got a Vampire was fear. Which was why Bakura was so worried about how to rid her of it, to convince her that no Shadows were coming to get her.
She felt more bone and more flesh come to attack itself to the right places. Her elbow was just appearing, and the beginnings of a foot structure were forming from the intricate movement of bones.

She was right. Because she found that if she concentrated harder, she could make the process speed up somewhat. She could move her fingers now, though with a twitching stiffness that hurt. Also, even though the skin was still ever attaching back onto the arms, it felt extremely odd to feel one's face littered all over the place. A piece of a nose here, bits of eyebrow there, the bottom lip sticking wetly down on top of that bloody smear that had once been Te'a.

Bakura's smirk was self-satisfied and smug, and even as he watched over the old woman's stiff back, he brought his hands up to his chest and started to unbutton his shirt. His fingers almost slipped a few times, but he managed to draw the front open and let the silky material flow down his muscled arms. It floated down almost dreamily to the floor. Landing in a silken heap, where the streetlights shone off its surface.
Then he placed two hands on the old lady's shoulders and drew her up to his chest. She was old - true, so her blood would be thin and not as appetising as an average human or even a child, but she was a devote Christian, therefore quite fun to tease.
He loved opening the fools up to the real horrors of life, to the horrors of even myth - as he supposedly was. To make them see that it didn't matter how much one prayed to this "God", because no matter what you did, he would not come to your aid. If he existed, that was his business, but he had basically created humans, stuck them on Earth and said: "Fine, now take care of yourselves."
And fools such as this old lady would clutch at the crucifix around their necks and think that their faith would deliver them.
But no matter of that now. Bakura placed his lips right by the old woman's ear, and said, "My, my. You never know who's going to drop in these days - do you?"

The dog at the woman's feet seemed to have found its voice once again and was barking indignantly at the white-haired vampire, who had such a crude grip on its mistress. It bounced and yapped, and tried to bite at Bakura's ankles, but the Vampire shook it off as if it were nothing but a nuisance that he had little patience for.
The old lady quivered, but she didn't make a sound. Yet, she still gripped at her crucifix with an annoying sense of duty that the Vampire loathed to the core of his being. But no matter of that either, Bakura just ripped the thing away from the old hag's throat and threw it amongst Te'a's blood smeared all over the sidewalk.
Maybe this snapped the old lady, for the next moment she was screaming louder than she had ever screamed in her life. Partly because she had never taken that crucifix off, not for thirty years. And Bakura had robbed her of that pride by dunking the trinket in a pool of crimson blood that welled up the ornate gold and encrusted diamonds. Seeping down into the very cracks.
"Where is your God now?" Bakura hissed in her ear, knowing she could hear him, even though she tried her best not to. In fact, the pitch of her yells were raised up a couple of notches, grating on his sensitive, vampiric ear drums.
Losing all patience, he curled his hand around her lips, smothering the scream between his interlocked fingers. The woman hadn't seen his face once, the way he preffered, and as he had no shirt on, he could feel her warmth seeping against his torso and chest. He could even faintly feel the heart on its rebound.

Oh, it had been a long time since any of his victims had seen his face, and in a way he missed it. But that was Marik's style, not his. Since Marik insisted that it wasn't cruel to frighten the daylights out of them by baring his fangs obviously, hissing like a demon. But then, that was Marik. And every vampire had his own tactics that a sire would follow one day.
See, not one vampire really thought he or she would live forever. They had the ability to be immortal, yes. But mostly they were killed off sooner or later. Sometimes even by accident, or by air-headed Vampire Hunters, such as Seto Kaiba. Some had lived for many many years, but most had perished within the first hundred.
And that was mainly why Vampires actually wanted sires. Because in a way, a vampire could continue life in that sire, as the person they trained would follow their tactics to the letter, honouring their soul.

Bakura was nearly five thousand now. Deeming him much respect amongst his community, for not many could fight and survive for so long. And it was always said: the longer you live, the more you learn, and the better chance you have of surviving. The trick was to never get over confident, for that would be a mighty downfall.
As for Dan... no one actually knew how old he was except for Bakura, who never told a soul because Dan hated being the half-breed that his was. And the date he was made would trace back to a monstrous demon whom all hated immensely, and still celebrated his death to this day.
And as Bakura let his jaw lengthen forward and his fangs start to show themselves from a more prominent view, he once again thought of making Dan his second instead of Marik. But a half-breed as a second to a Vampire cult was unheard of, Bakura would probably be shot point blank in his sleep for suggesting it.
But he was sure that Marik knew Dan would make a better second, hell a better leader, than any of them. He was ancient, not as old as Bakura, but still stiff, wise and intelligent.

Bakura's hand found its way to the old woman's chest, feeling the heartbeat more clearly under his fingertips. He didn't know exactly why, but he loved the feel of a heartbeat slowing down till it stopped altogether.
He could nuzzle up against the soft grey curls too, which fluttered up against his face. The sensation beautiful in a way that no human could ever appreciate, indeed, not even many vampires.
And he had the perfect view of Te'a as he sank his fangs into the old lady's neck, digging down until he reached an artery and burst it viciously. He could see his sire's struggle as she desperately tried to speed up the process of healing through the red haze of pain. Her rib cage forming now, the spinal column, the floating ribs attaching themselves, muscles, bits of skin, blood - all fusing together in a desperate attempt to make the girl whole again. And it made Bakura almost shine with pride at her fast learning ability when it came to anything but conquering her fears, for the healing was hastening all the time.
Impressive... why, I don't even remember healing like that myself when I was young... although I didn't have much help then - either.
The old woman was shuddering, her dog still barking at the intruder and the strange thing that the boy was doing to its mistress that involved a heavy smell of her fear and blood. That same blood softly dripping down down the stranger's throat, trickling across his bare chest and down slowly into the hem of his jeans.

All the while, as he sucked the hag's blood, he watched Te'a. Her braveness almost compared to the efforts of Cassandra when she tried her best to survive against the disease. Impressive. Undoubtedly.
Even now, the structure of the skeleton was complete, and the muscles and brain were almost fully back to their original form. The viscera starting to form into recognisable organs once more. Te'a Gardner obviously desperate to get rid of the insistent never fading agony she was in.
He could sense a thin pang of anger and bitterness directed toward him, even as the hands reached up and hooked the fingers around the streetlamp, pulling the body up, admittedly with allot of squelchy sounds, as Te'a's details were far from finished. Not even the flesh on the cranium had yet started to form, although it was obvious that it would happen very soon. Te'a was making excellent progress. Maube Bakura would reward her if she didn't try to kill him first.
It was sad really, for every bit of pain he threw at her was wrenching her innocence away from her. The child-like quality she possessed that had made her so appealing in the first place. A great shadow of matureness that hadn't been there before. A shaft of wisdom that was not wanted, especially not from Te'a. She resented ever getting herself into this. Resented her master - him.

And as a master, Bakura knew he should never underestimate her. Because then he would always underestimate her, which could be his death. And he would never let that happen. He would train her, maybe even teach her to be grateful, but never would he underestimate her ability as a future threat. Because that fact was very real. Even her quick learning at the healing process was proof of that.
The skin attaching to the muscle now, forming the beginings of an eerily eyeless face. The sculp getting covered by pale, ethereal skin. She was beautiful to him even though she was half of what she used to be.