Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Fear ❯ Chapter 4

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

The attitude in Ryou's household, which had been almost completely restored after the fire tearing through it, had lightened considerably now that Bakura and Malik had set aside their differences and accepted, at Ryou's request, to try and date each other in the threesome. It was now quite common for Bakura to stop by Malik's bedroom in the morning to give the Egyptian a quick kiss before heading off to wherever he went during the day, possibly work, possibly stalking hapless pensioners and stealing their wallets, not even Ryou was sure. Ryou himself would invariably visit both Malik and Bakura for cuddles and kisses before departing for school. He left before Bakura, so the tomb robber would sometimes make the most of the moment to steal a kiss from Malik that was so much more than just chaste, a hand often sliding down into his trousers to fondle his manhood. The Egyptian was only just getting used to being touched so gently - Marik would mercilessly thrust his hand there, roughly clawing as he pounded Malik's lithe body in to whatever surface he was tied to. Of course, when both Ryou and Bakura were out, Malik was left with the keys to the house - where he now lived. He hadn't really had a cause to leave, unless it was to run a quick errand down to the newsagents or grocery. He certainly hadn't had a need to return to his own house - he lived with his two new lovers now. Malik was therefore left to answer the door to all calling salesmen and friends, a job he took very seriously indeed, which is why he was so quick to answer when the bell rang on the fateful day our story continues. “Hello, this is the Bakura household, how may I help - ?” The lilac-eyed Egyptian's cheerful greeting was cut off as a strong hand was clamped over his mouth and he was slammed backwards into the wall, the front door kicked shut behind him. Stars exploded in front of his vision as he struggled to focus against the sudden onslaught. “So this is where you've been hiding, little whore…” Marik sneered softly in to his ear. Malik tried desperately to stop his head spinning, his abusive yami's hand cutting off his air supply. Marik struck him hard around the face. “I'm so good to you, bitch, to let you out without keeping you on a collar and lead - and how do you repay me? By running away! Imagine my dismay when my little bitch didn't return home at playtime!” Marik's voice was a sibilant hiss and poor Malik whimpered helplessly into the suffocating hand. “Well, now that I'm here…” Marik looked around appreciatively, removing his hand from the terrified hikari's mouth. “I've never had sex in someone else's house before - I think I might come to enjoy it!” All Malik could do was emit a frightened moan. --- Ryou and Bakura hitched up in the street by pure coincidence, finishing the carefree, ambling walk back to the house together, deep in conversation. Bakura kissed Ryou softly outside the front door before opening it, expecting another normal day. Only this time Malik did not come to greet the home comers as usual. Ryou glanced nervously at his yami. “Where's Malik? Did he say he was going out?” The introvert teenager asked with concern. Bakura shook his head pensively. “No - and the door was unlocked, wasn't it? Maybe he's just in the bathroom or something.” Bakura fell silent as he felt Ryou tugging persistently on his sleeve. The tomb robber turned slowly, with an inexplicable feeling of dread in his stomach, to see what Ryou was pointing at. Blood flecks. Tiny little droplets of blood, irregularly scattered as though from a nosebleed. Bakura found himself hoping that that was all Malik had suffered, but an icy feeling in the back of his mind told him there was no way that could be true. Ryou was beginning to follow the grisly trail, his eyes fixed firmly on the strewn specks, which led upstairs. Bakura followed, in case something bad lurked ready to do his hikari harm - Ryou was much too important to him to take risks, and his gut feeling told him that whatever they would find at the end of the blood trail wouldn't be nice. Not even his gut feeling could have prepared him for the horrific sight to greet him as he walked in to Malik's bedroom - blood. Nothing but blood, everywhere. Stains on the carpet, spattered up the wall, the sheets of the bed reddened and strewn everywhere, the very image of the scene of a fight. It froze even the hardened tomb robber to a disbelieving standstill. Ryou, however, who was much more delicate than Bakura, clapped his hand to his mouth and cried out. “Malik! Oh gods, Malik! Where are you?” Bakura followed the stricken teenager as he rushed through to their own bedroom, a large space with two single beds, one on each wall. Again Ryou froze and cried out - their room was in very much the same state as Malik's had been. Blood was smeared up the walls; both beds were almost black with gore. The window was smashed; deep burgundy stains on the fresh sharp edges. One particular wall caught Bakura's eyes, however, that adjoining Ryou's bed. There, daubed in great, shaking letters of dark red, the beginnings of a word: “Mari- ” ending in a desperate streak. “Marik.” The thief king growled deep in his throat, causing Ryou to look at the awful insignia. “That bastard!” “Wh-where do you think he's taken Malik?” Ryou asked quietly in his nervous voice. Bakura pulled him into a comforting one-armed hug. “I could only assume back to their own house, tenshi. Do you know where that is?” “No, but we can follow the blood. If Malik was really bleeding so bad in here,” Ryou swallowed, almost painfully, “then he should have left a pretty clear trail when Marik took him away.” --- Ryou was right - there was a clear trail of speckles in the street which led to a small, rundown, derelict house not far from where the British teenager lived with his yami. This is where Malik lives? His first thoughts as he spotted the end of the gruesome tracks. No wonder he was so keen to leave! The place is a dump! Bakura fearlessly knocked on the door and Ryou heard the approaching footsteps apprehensively, instinctively shrinking back a little when the door was flung open by someone who looked a lot like Malik - the only differences being the hairstyle, the over-confident smirk and the cold lifelessness of the lilac eyes. “We're here for Malik.” Bakura said tonelessly, which caused the smirking figure to smile in, what Ryou deemed, a cruel way. “Oh!” Marik smiled brightly in mock innocent surprise. “You know about the whore?” Before either Ryou or Bakura could object about the idle insult Marik passed about Malik, the strange-haired yami turned round and yelled in a loud voice that would surely resonate about the entire derelict house. “BITCH! GET OUT HERE!” Ryou clapped a hand over his mouth as Malik emerged from a side room, staggering towards the front door, leaning heavily on the wall for support, naked from the waist upwards. Every visible inch of the tanned Egyptian flesh was either reddened with blood or blackened with bruising, and a tight studded dog collar had been fitted about his neck. Marik gave Malik a shove in the back as his hikari reached the door, forcing him on to all fours in front of Ryou and Bakura. The cold yami's lilac eyes suddenly flashed wrathfully. “Who gave you permission to put your trousers back on!?” He snapped at Malik, ripping away the black leather, leaving the teenager completely exposed. With a powerful kick to the ribs, Malik was tossed on to his back, and Marik knelt on his chest, effectively pinning him to the floor, kissing his face roughly and pointedly disregarding the bleeding cuts and ruptured skin. Bakura couldn't stand it - he had realised at the hospital that Marik was abusive, but he hadn't realised how serious the problem was. Malik was dying before his very eyes, much more of this torture and there would be no saving him. Judging by the sheer amount of re-decoration at his house alone, no doubt more of which lay concealed within the collapsing slum of the Ishtars, Malik had already lost a considerable amount of blood. It was a miracle that the lilac-eyed teen could stand at all. “Stop it, Marik!” The thief king snapped, lunging at Marik and pulling the Egyptian off his defenceless hikari. “No sixteen year old should have to put up with this!” Marik snarled, gripping Ryou and whirling a loose hand about the white-haired one's throat. “You would rather I played with your little baby here?” He smirked confidently, and stole a powerful, dominating kiss from the helpless Briton, who squirmed in the strong grasp. Malik's head lolled as he moved, desperately trying to focus on the hikari he loved so much. “Master…” The platinum-gold boy breathed hoarsely, but Marik waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Quiet, slut. You've lost your fun. New toys are so much nicer to play with!” “That's enough, Marik!” Bakura lunged at the other yami, knocking him off his feet, causing him to let Ryou go in surprise. The mild-mannered boy fell limply to the floor, crawling over to the gore-drenched Malik and holding his limp form tightly in a hug, pushing the straggled, matted hair out of the agonised, panting face. What kind of person tortures and rapes someone as beautiful as Malik, and then denies him permission to even wash away the stains? The British teen thought despairingly. “He's an excellent fuck.” Marik sneered towards Malik, pinned underneath Bakura, staring hatefully up at the tomb robber, who promptly smacked him round the face. “Stop it.” The pale-haired yami breathed angrily. “Just stop it. You've gone too far, Marik. This time I'll make you pay!” Marik threw another lust-filled glance at Malik, who was clutched protectively in Ryou's grasp, before looking back up at the teenager on top of him, uttering two confident words: “Bring it.”