Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Firemoth ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Xpyne: I'm very sorry that this update took so long. High school crushes my writing spirit and takes up all my free time. u__u;

Yuugi: ::pets her head:: Don't worry, Xpy-chan, you're a senior. Almost free!

Xpyne: X__x;;; Haha, well, until then, please enjoy what I manage to get written.

Yuugi: Oh, and Xpyne owns nothing! Please don't sue!

Firemoth

Chapter 4

By Xpyne

__________________________

Cold, pale blue eyes remained unfocused and somber as the powerful man to whom they belonged brooded. Mutou Yuugi had been taken from him. People did not take things from him. He did not allow it....the slayers would have to die. He would hunt them with the methodical patience born of an afterlife three millennia long, and when he cornered them, he would slaughter the beasts as they deserved.

He drummed his long, slender fingers on the arm of the plush chair in his chamber. He wanted Yuugi back. He never should have been taken in the first place; the best guards money could buy were always on call at the Drip Crell, for emergencies just as this. Yet the Enforcers had failed.

Shadi lifted an ornate set of golden scales from a glass case and placed it under his robe. It was time to pay a visit to Malik.

v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v

"That's the best you could find?" It was near dusk, and Kaiba, tiring of sitting around all day with nothing to do, had kicked Bakura awake and enlisted his help in finding Yuugi a change of clothes, since he personally had no idea where spare clothing would be, assuming there even was any.

Yuugi himself had gone to sleep again, and Kaiba had felt very uncomfortable staying in the same room as Yuugi while he was practically naked. It was just a...physical attraction. They had nothing in common. Except being the victims of vampires, and that didn't exactly make great conversation. Kaiba kept telling himself fantasizing about the little Tracker was pointless. They didn't need any weak, simpering bishounens around. It'd only end up becoming burdensome.

"Well Christ, it's a safehouse, not a department store," Bakura returned peevishly, having spent the better part of the last hour looking for this, and had been somewhat proud of his find. He held up the small red bodysuit with black, rubber-like accents. "I like it."

Actually, Kaiba liked it, too. The problem was just, well, maybe he liked it a little too much. The brunette scowled.

"It's a little girl's suit," he protested.

"So?? He's about three feet tall; there wasn't anything in the 'men's department' that would fit him," Bakura retorted sarcastically. The blue eyed boy was about to yank the tiny red garment from the crypt raider's grasp when a pale hand beat him to it.

"I'm 4'10", thank you, and this is fine." Both slayers looked down, surprised. Yuugi smiled awkwardly up at them and slung the bodysuit over one bare shoulder, slipping out from between the two taller boys surreptitiously. He crossed the room as silently as he'd entered it and left, heading towards his room to change, well aware two pairs of eyes were burning holes in the back of his head.

After a moment's silence--

"Well that was kind of creepy--did you hear him come in?"

"--No."

"Weird. Kid's quieter than a vamp," Bakura commented. "Anyway, it's your turn to service the van. We're heading out tomorrow at dawn."

Kaiba nodded absently, his thoughts flicking treacherously to red bodysuits.

v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v

"....I require your services."

"I know."

"I want the situation taken care of immediately."

"I know."

".....Are you willing?"

".....I have my team assembled, equipped, and waiting for my word."

"What is this going to cost Pegasus?"

Malik raised his slender blonde brows. "Pegasus?" He stood, letting out a short, derisive laugh. "Pegasus has nothing I desire; I require payment from you, oh Ancient One. Surely you know what it is I'm after?" He crossed the chamber, dark violet cloak fluttering about his slim form.

Shadi let out a low dark chuckle, slipping golden scales bearing the ancient eye from under his own cloak. He plucked a single white feather from his dark turban and placed it on the right hand tray, the all-seeing eye burning upon his forehead. Malik tensed, but did not turn to face him.

"I know what means you seek to achieve your ends: the Millennium items. It is your ends that I do not comprehend..." The empty left hand tray dipped low, the feather rising. Shadi allowed a thin smile to grace his lips. "Still, it is obvious you have nothing but wicked intentions in store.... Pegasus is in possession of the Millennium Eye."

Malik turned abruptly. "What?" His lavender eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"Because I gave it to him," he answered simply. "It shall be yours--if you succeed in recovering Yuugi." Malik allowed a lascivious smile spread wanly over his features.

"When have I ever failed?"

v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v

The pale haired boy wanted desperately to know where his master was going, but knew better than to ask. He settled, instead, for lying on his stomach on the low couch draped in furs, large brown eyes peering over the arm following the Egyptian vampire's movements.

Malik strapped a pair of blunt swords to his back, adjusting the black leather criss-crossing over his chest. On a sudden impulse, he snapped both blades out of their holsters and whirled, slicing through the air behind him with a grunt. His willowy arms flowed back and forth, his short katanas acting as extensions of his body rather than as separate weapons, as he flew through various well-practiced moves. It was clear he was good. But anyone worth their blood already knew that.

When he finally froze, feet spread--far enough apart to be stable, but not so far that his balance was compromised in the slightest, one foot a few inches in front of the other--and chest heaving, a satisfied, excited sort of pant escaping his soft lips, he noticed his audience. A predatory grin crept over his features, teeth as white as snow gleaming in the dim light.

"Pet..." he drawled, lavender eyes half lidded, swords held deathly still in position, the thin, wiry muscles of his arms bulging. He stalked across the room in his lair, eying the sparsely clad, supple body splayed on top of the couch. Ryou kept his gaze, his chocolate orbs the only thing visible between his shaggy hair and the arm of the couch. As Malik approached him, he pointed one sword at his face. When he drew nearer, the pale boy was forced to sit up halfway to avoid the blade. He leaned back, eyes wide and fearful, trying to press himself against the cushions even further to escape the sharp edge. It touched his pale neck, lightly, almost lovingly. Ryou's breath was short and fast now, eyes on the blade caressing his throat. The fear churning in his stomach was tangible; he realized what his master was about to do a second before he did it.

Malik sliced the blade across the pale throat and back into its sheath so quickly it was a flash of silver. Ryou fell forward, crying out in pain, one hand already reaching for the searing wound out of instinct. Malik dropped to the ground beside the divan, yanking Ryou's wrist away with one hand and clutching his luxurious white hair with the other.

Lying on his back he pulled Ryou so the boy's torso hung over him, blood pouring from the shallow slice onto his tanned face. He lapped it up ravenously, moaning and arching his back, clearly fighting the urge to sink his teeth into the wound and suck. His tongue wriggled wildly, lengthy fangs fully extended, as he panted hoarsely, the most lewd assortment of noises pouring from his throat. Blood splattered everywhere, mingled with salty tears. As the flow finally began to staunch, Malik jerked his pet's head back farther, stretching the skin abruptly and starting the flow afresh. Ryou whimpered, his thin hands clenching the edge of the couch pure white.

"God, you taste so fucking good..." he growled, finally allowing the blood to stem. It trickled a while longer, until stopping. Malik pried one of Ryou's hands from the couch--the one that had clutched his pale throat unbidden. He licked it avariciously, worshiping each long, pallid digit until the hand was clean. Then he sat up, blood still splattered all over his face, shoving Ryou back onto the divan. "...so fucking good..." he repeated, straddling the slender veep and rocking forward, his jutting erection grinding against the other boy. He pulled at Ryou's shoulders encouragingly, undeterred by the human's pained, unenthusiastic response. "C'mon." He ground his hips again. Ryou's face was still screwed up in agony, white throat working laboriously.

"....Unh....too--deep--" he gasped, wincing each time his neck moved. A fleeting expression of concern passed over Malik's visage before it was replaced with a scowl.

"I didn't cut you too deep," he denied. Ryou drew in small, trembling puffs, fresh trickles of crimson liquid dribbling from the cracking clots with every breath he took. "Oh, fucking hell," Malik sighed, getting off his veep. He strolled to the doorway and opened it, poking his head out into the corridor. "RISHID!" he hollered. A moment later a tall, broad man in a dark violet cloak appeared.

"Yes, Master Malik?" Malik crinkled his nose in annoyance, gesturing for Rishid to enter the chamber.

"It's Ryou again," he answered in an impatient voice. "Fix him," he demanded. Rishid's dark eyes widened briefly and he strode to the veep's side. Ryou was tensed and squirming on the couch, struggling to breathe. Rishid dropped beside him, pressing his light blue handkerchief to the boy's throat. He narrowed his slanted eyes, lips becoming a thin, disapproving line.

"Malik..." his tone bordered on warning. "This is the third time in as many months. If you're not more careful, you are going to kill him." Malik folded his mocha colored arms over his chest, frowning. "They're not very resilient, humans. This one in particular is fragile."

Malik wiped the drying blood from his mouth sullenly. He shifted his weight from one hip to the other guiltily, eyeing his injured pet. Ryou was blinking his wide eyes blearily, a pool of his own blood staining his hair and dripping onto the floor. The veep shuddered, heavily lashed lids drooping.

"Get me some gauze and a blanket," he ordered, disgust leaking into his voice. Malik obeyed, producing the objects quickly. Rishid removed his sopping handkerchief and replaced it with the gauze, carefully lifting Ryou's head to allow himself better access to the long, slender neck. Malik tucked the blanket around his veep and then stepped back, face neutral and uninterested. His tightly clenched hands gave him away, though.

"Will he be alright?" Rishid shot him a withering look.

"This time." He threw his soaked handkerchief to Malik, who caught it reflexively. "Why don't you suck on that and leave him alone next time?"

"Get out," he spat coldly. Rishid rose silently and exited without a backward glance. The blonde vampire stood inert for a moment before glancing down at his favorite pet. He brushed an errant lock of silver from the teen's face fondly, fingers lingering on his ashen cheek. Growling suddenly, he chucked the bloodied kerchief into waste basket across the room. [Damn Rishid.... I am careful!] He stood there fuming for a second, absently licking his hand clean, until he got his emotions in check. It was, he supposed, for the best he couldn't make love right now, despite his high state of arousal; he had work to do.

Leaving the room in rather a foul mood, he struck the small, upside down cross on the collar on his black crop top.

"Rare Hunters. Throne room. Now," he snapped, stalking towards the designated meeting spot himself. Upon entering, he plopped down in his throne, waiting for his four team members to arrive. They soon filtered in, slipping silently out of the shadows.

Rishid and Adrienne came first, followed by a tall man in a striped mask, and lastly a slim male with long black hair pulled into a high ponytail, all four in long, dark violet cloaks with gold chain fastenings.

"We're leaving at nightfall. Mutou is to be taken alive at all costs. Unfortunately, we're cooperating with that fool Pegasus on this one..." There was a collective murmur amongst the other four. "I've had him contacted. He's even sending along one of his gits to accompany us. Surprisingly, he had the forethought to place a tracking device on the boy. Of course, the slayers may have already found it and sent it off to try and defer us. Either way, we're hunting Yuugi-kun's scent..." At this, Malik lifted one lean arm and snapped his fingers.

A handsome girl with short blonde hair hurried forward, bowing as she presented Malik with a carved wooden chest. As the veep backed away respectively, the masked hunter's gaze followed her, eyes flashing with longing. Malik ignored him, opening the chest on his lap. Inside was a small, neatly folded pair of leather pants. He raised them to his nose and took a long, deep inhalation. Abruptly he threw the pants to the masked vampire.

"Take a good smell, Archane...yet another human you had better not touch." Archane shot him a dirty look; it was common knowledge he coveted one of Malik's many veeps, a girl named Catherine. Archane breathed in the scent of the pants and then shoved them at Adrienne.

"I've got his scent, thanks," she drawled, giving the pants a dubious look before handing them to Rishid. "What, did you skulk through his dirty laundry?" Malik quirked his blonde brows, a smirk playing over his lips.

"Funny you should ask. It seems Pegasus just happened to have those lying around...Delightful man that he is." Adrienne grimaced, accepting the pants back from Rishid and passing them to the raven haired vampire. He tossed his inky locks over his shoulder and inhaled deeply, vivid green eyes opening in surprise.

"Damn, he smells..." he paused, searching for an appropriate word. "...delicious."

"He's a Tracker, Otogi," Adrienne explained haughtily. Otogi's delicate brows rose in polite surprise.

"No kidding? I thought those didn't exist anymore..." He tossed the pants back to Malik. "Someone ought to breed him. I'd wait a decade or so for one of those."

Malik cleared his throat. "As stimulating as your company always is," he began dryly, "I have business to attend to before we leave. You know what we're up against...so be prepared to fight Nyctomortem if it comes to it." He rose and swept out of the room, intent upon returning to Ryou's side. He had to admit; he had a bit of a soft spot when it came to that pale, willowy human.

v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v

A soft noise rousted Yuugi from his light sleep. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and blinking. He was alone in the white room, surrounded by shadows. [Maybe I imagined there was a noise...] He yawned, rolling out of the twin bed and landing silently on his feet. There weren't any windows in the room, but a single skylight in the 12 foot high ceiling was open, letting in a weak patch of moonlight. The hairs on the back of Yuugi's neck pricked and he shifted uncomfortably, wondering what time it was. [Where is Kaiba-kun?] He rubbed his arms vigorously, trying to ward off the goosebumps rising all over his bare flesh. He was suddenly very aware he was near nude, alone, and it was night time. He spotted the vivid red bodysuit lying over the back of one cream colored chair and snatched it up. As he straightened, clutching the suit to his chest, he knew someone was watching him.

"Did you miss me, hikari-chan?"

Yuugi's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could even gasp, pliant lips were molded to his, effectively sucking the very will to resist from the smaller boy. Unlike the feathery caress in the alley, this kiss was fierce, dominating--hungry. Tongue and lips and fangs were a jumble against Yuugi's mouth, enflaming every dirty desire the rather innocent Tracker had ever imagined. And his bloodlust awoke.

Yuugi's violet eyes, which had been clenched in fear, resistance, and pleasure, flew open, their color now indecipherable from black in the dim light. He shoved the Darkness away from him with unnatural strength, crying out in a voice more animalistic than his own. The beautiful vampire looked shocked, lying on the floor, chest heaving. He licked his fangs in an anticipatory manner, blood colored eyes locked onto blackened violet.

"...Come on, then, little light," he challenged, unbuckling his cloak and collar. Slender fingers wrenched the black leather open, displaying an immaculate expanse of white throat, pulse fluttering erotically beneath that thin layer of milky virgin flesh. "Or can the blood of a vampire affect a dunpeal?"

Yuugi had known this night stalker must be a pureblood--born a vampire--but seeing his unmarked neck, knowing he would be the first to taste him, aroused a possessive feeling in his very veins he'd never know. He pounced on the vampire, delicate fangs ripping into the exposed flesh, sucking the glorious tributary that flowed forth. He drank greedily, sucking the very life out of his would-be aggressor. The door flew open.

"God--!"

Yuugi's head shot up, violent red stream covering the lower half of his cherubic face. He growled, leaping at the pure white-cloaked figure in the doorway, the slender vampire crumpling forgotten on the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. Kaiba clutched his forearms instinctively, but the small dunpeal's fangs caught his jugular nonetheless.

Kaiba froze, eyes wide and clouded, disbelieving. He sunk slowly to his knees as the life was sucked out of him, his soft lips working soundlessly. As his tall, powerful body collapsed, Yuugi still attached to him, the second slayer skidded to a halt in the doorway. He took in the apparently slain vamp across the room and the form of his partner, splayed on his back, azure eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling, leeching Tracker murdering him before his wide green eyes. Yuugi felt a large hand curl in his hair and wrench his head back, a spray of blood splattering from his detached mouth.

"Worthless, murdering, night stalking scum--!"

A hard, backhanded slap stung his cheek, and he screamed.

"Yuugi!"

Yuugi's eyes flew open and he sat up, his hand going to his round cheek that still stung from a slap. He was panting, and covered in a cold sweat, his throat raw from screaming. Bakura was at his side, looking rather concerned.

"Geez, I'm sorry I had to hit you so hard, kid, but you weren't waking up when I shook you." Yuugi stared ahead unseeing, the terrible visions from his nightmare still fresh in his mind. "...Yuugi? You there?" Yuugi leaned over the other side of the bed and retched.

"I'm fine," he whispered hoarsely, bile dripping from his lips.

"Um, yeah. Sure you are." He touched the silver "BV" on his collar. "Kaiba, get over to Yuugi's room."

"/What's wrong?/"

"Kid just puked up a boatload of blood."

"/Blood??/"

"Yeah."

"/........./"

The door opened, revealing the imposing figure of Kaiba Seto. He crossed the room and pulled Yuugi into a sitting position. The teen was wiping his mouth embarrassedly and tugging the thin bed sheet up to cover himself better.

"I'm okay--really..." he looked down at his hands, which were under the blanket, wringing a fold of it. "...this isn't the first time that's happened..."

"The nightmare or the blood?" Bakura wanted to know.

"...."

Kaiba wrapped one hand around the top of the blanket. Yuugi's eyes widened.

"What are you--"

"I need to check for internal bleeding. Did you get hurt when we--abducted you?"

Yuugi shook his head silently. [No, I just drank a few pints for dinner, like the blood-craving whore that I am.] Kaiba pulled the sheet down to his waist and he flushed despite himself. He was still only wearing his vital protectors, the white towel and red bodysuit lying neatly on the armchair a short distance away. Kaiba, planting one large hand's lengthy fingers on his chest, pushed him slowly onto his back, simultaneously shifting onto the bed so he was looming over the slight teen. The brunette's breath came out in an inexplicable shudder, washing over Yuugi's cold skin. Warm hands slid down his chest, thumbs brushing over erect nipples, causing Yuugi to shiver. He looked up at the headboard, chewing on his lower lip, body tensed to snap. The way Kaiba was touching him so gently was making him extremely nervous. Kaiba pressed lightly under his ribs, and Yuugi hissed.

"Does that hurt?"

"....No. It tickled." The corner of Kaiba's mouth flicked upwards, threatening for a moment to smile. Or maybe Yuugi just imagined it did; he couldn't be sure. The gentle prodding moved lower, and across his stomach. Kaiba lifted his head, his vivid, penetrating blue eyes locking onto Yuugi's. The dunpeal was forcibly reminded of his nightmare, and the way those entrancing indigo eyes seemed to draw all attention to them. He remembered their deadened appearance in his dream. He flinched.

"Does that hurt?"

[If there's nothing wrong with me, he'll get suspicious about the blood...]

"Y-yes," he lied, allowing his face to contort with some of the pain he was feeling in his heart right now. Kaiba appeared thoroughly convinced.

"There's no external bruise yet, but you might have ruptured something--" Kaiba broke off, allowing himself to stare intently at the pale flesh beneath him. "...You'd better be alright in a few days..." he mumbled, shaking his head. He looked sharply up at Yuugi once more. "If there's any pain, or any more of that--" he gestured toward the dark vomit stain on the carpet. "You tell me." Yuugi nodded.

Bakura, who had migrated to the other side of the room when Kaiba had taken over, strolled over to join them. He thrust the bodysuit at Yuugi.

"Get dressed. We're leaving at dawn," Bakura commanded. Kaiba hesitated briefly, then hastily climbed away from Yuugi, mask of indifference settling over his features once again.

"We'll be down the hall if you need us," the brunette stated coolly. The pair filed out of the room, leaving Yuugi in a state of emotional turmoil. As he nervously unstrapped his protectors, pulling on the tight bodysuit, he couldn't stop the torrent of thoughts rushing through his mind. [I think I love the Darkness--but then why does Kaiba-kun's touch feel so--so--so good..? Ah, he makes me wish a thousand times more that I was human....] He imagined his horrible dream again, and the terrible thrill he'd received from breaking free of his moral constraints. [...I deserve to be slain.] He tugged on his black Kevlar-leather polymer boots and re-strapped his vitals. He thought of the Darkness. [Can vampires even love? Are they capable? ...Did my father love my mother?] He'd never known either of them. Somehow, though, he couldn't imagine theirs had been any sort of enchanting romance. Yuugi doubted his father even knew he existed.

When he had finished dressing, skin tight crimson molding to his slender body under bulky black knee, elbow and shoulder pads, he worried his lower lip, staring at the blackening stain marring the purity of the white room. He stained everything he touched.

Yuugi ran into the bathroom and collected some towels and soap. He wet one, and returned to the bedroom to apply it on his vomit. The scent of blood and bile nauseated him, but he cleaned with a desperate sort of fervor, determined to start fresh, to do something right for once. As he scrubbed, rising frequently to rinse off towels, he began to think seriously about what he was getting himself into.

What exactly did Nyctomortem expect from him? And what exactly was a "Tracker"? Yuugi knew he attracted vampires, no shit, but why?? And how could his vampire magnetism possibly help "save millions of lives"? What was Nyctomortem going to do, sit him in the middle of a town and kill whatever came near? Yuugi knew he refused to be bait anymore...he'd just escaped from one cage. But whether he was even going to be given a choice in the matter was questionable. He wondered what Kaiba-san and Bakura-san were going to do. A depressing notion came to Yuugi: what if once they reached wherever it was they were headed, Kaiba-san and Bakura-san left him and he never saw them again?

[I guess I'll just have to wait and see...] Secretly, he hoped they'd become his friends one day. He'd never had a friend before. But then again, dunpeals weren't supposed to have friends. Dunpeals shouldn't exist. He scrubbed even harder, not noticing the carpet was starting to fray under his assault. He'd wipe it clean, and no one would be able to tell he'd ruined the white façade.

[No one will be able to tell blood touched this room.]

v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v

The soft click of the receiver sounded in the darkened room.

"...."

"They have him."

"...."

"Safehouse 1045, and they plan on movin' him at dawn. That gives you about nine hours."

"Thank you." Another soft click indicated the communication was cut. The figure at the desk in the shadows rose. Firemoth was going to fail, or everything would be lost.

v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v * v

Xpyne: Give me lots of reviews, please! School is so depressing and reviews cheer me up. I love it when people talk about the things they liked or didn't like in my fic; makes all the effort that much more fun! *^__^*

Yuugi: -__-'' Maybe you readers can convince her to stop torturing me. Did I really have to throw up all that blood I drank?? x_x;;;

Xpyne: But your little human tummy didn't like all that! Had to come out somehow....and if anyone should be complaining, it's Ryou, lol. Oh and I just read Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice last weekend. Oh my goodness, it was so great!! Inspiring, even. Can't believe, with my vampy fetish, it took me 'til now to read Rice. I'm already starting The Vampire Lestat, hehe. I highly recommend these to everyone.

Yuugi: Poor Ryou-kun. Bye bye, mina!