Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Paranoid ❯ Nothing like You ( Chapter 12 )

Marik sighed in rare satisfaction as he entered the bathroom. He dumped the towel that was thrown over his shoulder in the sink, and proceeded to check himself in the mirror.

 

Finally, after his intense visit to the nuthouse, Marik had managed to find time for a peaceful, relaxing shower. After spending the whole afternoon slacking off with Bakura, the Egyptian had decided he needed a good quiet time to rest and think…

 

He watched his reflection blink at him from the mirror. Well that was a pleasant change -he looked alive again. The dark rings had slightly lifted from his eyes, and his skin colour seemed healthier…

 

Marik sighed blissfully, relishing the sensations of stillness and peace that enveloped him. In `Battle City' he had never had the luxury of resting for a change. His mind was always preoccupied with schemes to kill `the Pharaoh'…He had never had the simple privilege of enjoying a hot bath- how pathetic.

 

It was ironic really. `Cold-hearted villains' like him, were supposed to enjoy the absolute luxury and pleasure from their evil deeds…what a tremendous lie. Villains have the worst lives of all living beings, because they base their lives on hate.

 

And hate hurts.

 

When Marik used to hate his father for beating him, it hurt. It hurt to know he hated his own father- his own flesh and blood. The sinful thoughts of wanting to decapitate his only parent ate at him night and day. Even as a child, Marik was guilty… What could someone do if they were plagued to hate their own family? The guilt of hating what they were supposed to love would destroy them…

 

Then came the hate for the `Pharaoh'…The intensity of wanting to kill and destroy never left Marik to a peaceful state. All he ever wanted was a normal life!! A normal body- not mutilated by tattoos and scars!! He never wanted that man to be his father!! And he never wanted `the Pharaoh' to be his king!! All he ever wanted was casualty- to be free from servitude…and he hated everyone and everything for not giving it to him…

 

Marik stared at his reflection and gripped his head with both hands to squeeze the crazed memories away. How was it possible? How? Why had he turned paranoid?

 

He used to have a normal life, right? He used to have what he always wanted with Bakura. He had someone to take care of him -a companion…So why had he turned crazy, if he already had the thing he craved the most??

 

The boy gulped and shook his head wildly. Time to forget these thoughts! Time for a new beginning. The life he had always wanted was now offered to him freely, and he would just go on and take it. No more hate. No more suffering and pain. Now he would just stop thinking about this shit, and enjoy his cozy bath. Period.

 

The blonde Egyptian turned away from his reflection and focused on the bathtub full of hot water in front of him. He swiftly grasped the hem of his shirt and instantly took it off. With his back facing the mirror, he slowly turned to see the lean flesh he had always craved…

 

Merely tanned, tight skin stretched in front of him. No scars- no freaky ancient tattoos…Finally, he could wear whatever he wanted! He could run around on the beach however much he wished, and he could roll around on the sand again and again and again!! This new life was almost too good to be true…

 

This life WAS the real one, right? He wouldn't be waking up again on the Battle ship, surrounded by people he hated, right? This world was the REAL one, definitely…He wouldn't be able to take it if it was all a lie…

 

The faint sound of running water could be heard as a narrow mist began to assemble round the bathroom air from the water. The mirror started to become hazy with fog, and Marik forgot about looking at his back.

 

He sighed again in sheer bliss. Heat. Heat always felt good -he DID come from the Mediterranean after all…these frigid climates were never his style. They were more like Bakura.

 

Oh yes…Bakura…

 

Marik could clearly envision the boy surrounded in frost. Stormy clouds and wild hail would roll around the atmosphere, while Bakura would just stand there motionlessly…the Ice-Prince. And then, the full moon would show through the clouds for just one split second, and it would bathe Bakura's unnaturally long silver hair with shine…Bakura would be wearing nothing more than a single cloth to protect himself from the cold, and his skin would be completely cool and erect, like the effect of goose bumps…

 

Marik could see it so vividly…the whole setting would be in cold, frosty colors and Bakura himself would look strangely like a statue of ice in the vague moonlight…And beneath that unbelievable color of Atlantic blue, among that oceanic ice, two spheres of liquid fire would emerge, burning red into the deadly frost. Bakura's eyes…those scorching, red poles….

 

Marik didn't even realize he had subconsciously removed his remaining articles of clothing while he was daydreaming. In fact, he only realized where he was and what he was doing, when the hot bath water came in contact with his foot.

 

Groaning at being awoken from his reverie, Marik finally stepped in the bath and allowed himself to be carried away in a lying position. His eyes were closed in sheer satisfaction and his head was dipped backwards. He could feel the water massage and caress his entire weary body.

 

The only things that emerged from the water were his knee-caps, his throat and head.

 

What an incredible feeling…this warmth and sated peace. In `Battle City' he always used to take quick, cold showers. He didn't even want to remember how cold the water used to be…at first, he had problems. His teeth would clatter uncontrollably and he would whimper like a child…but he soon grew out of it. Actually, he used to force himself to shower in frozen water on purpose….it was kind of a way to `strengthen' him…

 

Come to think of it…he was just being masochistic. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of hot water caressing your skin, as he recently found out…

 

Marik softly inhaled the deep fragrance of jasmine that hovered in the air…His breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, and he found himself suddenly worn and tired.

 

Strange. He had never felt the overwhelming urge to sleep after taking cold showers…Perhaps it was because hot baths were soothing and calm, while cold ones were especially designed to awaken the mind's senses.

 

Marik suddenly found himself thinking that he didn't give a damn about how alert his mind's senses were at the moment.

 

He was on the brink of falling asleep in the stillness, savoring the peace and absolute silence.

 

Until a sound was heard.

 

Well, it wasn't really a sound. It was more like a humming, soft voice…Marik's eyes slowly opened to look around. He could only see the see-through bath curtain…but through the curtain…

 

Someone was standing there.

 

Marik, immediately sat up. He squinted his eyes in order to make more of the figure- he couldn't see too well through the plastic curtain. The figure certainly looked dark, and Marik could clearly distinguish the morbid purple color used in funerals covering the newcomer. The form of the person looked well-built so it couldn't be a woman.

 

Bakura?

 

Marik's heart skirted enthusiastically at the wishful thinking. If only Bakura was with him in the bathtub…

 

But it didn't look like Bakura -there was no white hair... Marik was slightly anxious and didn't want to pull the curtain open. Maybe he could just talk to them.

 

“Who's there? Rishid?” Marik asked defensively, while thinking of the torturous things he would do to Rishid if it was him indeed...

 

But no answer came from the figure. The only sound heard was the soft, somehow familiar humming of a deep voice.

 

Marik felt goose bumps dance upon his skin, even though he was submerged in hot water. Slowly, Marik raised his hand towards the curtain. Uncertainly and with great trepidation, he stretched his palm over the plastic fabric. It would only take one movement…one small movement…

 

Things suddenly went to slow motion for him. All he knew was that he didn't want to open that curtain…Well, he didn't have to. He could ignore it….But then he would have this Death figure towering over his bathing body…and that humming voice…that disgusting humming…No. He couldn't let it get to him. He HAD to see who it was. They had broken into his private space, anyway.

 

He gripped the curtains tightly and prepared to open them. Subconsciously, he noticed that the murmuring voice had gotten louder and the song sounded clearer now. Marik had surely heard it before, but couldn't really point his finger on it…

 

With one fast, fluid motion, Marik had thrown the curtain aside.

 

Lavender eyes widened and breathing became raspy and wild. His chest heaved up and down desperately, as he tried to steady his throbbing heart. He gripped the sides of the tub in a steel grip, and his teeth clenched in an effort not to shout out.

 

Standing in front of him was no other than the cloaked figure of a Rare Hunter. Oh yes, that's right…The same purple, flowing cloak…the same golden chains…the same eye-symbol imprinted on the hood.

 

Marik gasped as he saw the darkness that replaced the figure's face. No face. Just darkness. And the humming song became louder and louder, sung by an unseen mouth…Marik had the distinct feeling that there was something special about this Rare Hunter in particular.

 

He had seen that form before…those proud, straight shoulders…that disciplined, regal way of standing…That special, very dark cloak which was considered overly long even for a Rare Hunter…

 

…he had met this man before…

 

Suddenly, the humming became a clear song, the tune beating loudly in his ears as he watched the darkness in the figure's face. The lyrics were spoken in Egyptian…fluent ancient Egyptian…Marik finally realized that it wasn't a melody…it was soft echoing mutters, mumbled heavily around his ears. It was an oath…an oath…he had heard it before…

 

“To my king I pledge my life, the Evening and the Morning Star…to thee; I vow allegiance, son of Horus…that I will guard thy covert with my soul…”

 

Marik felt the hair at the back of his throat stand on end, as a sudden shiver of plain terror raced into his spine.

 

“And to my very seed I shall forge thy wisdom…”

 

Marik listened, utterly horrified, as the lullaby that had accompanied his sleep in all his memories replayed in his mind. That voice…that terrifying, deep voice…

 

“To attest my loyalty to thee, on my beloved son's flesh…”

 

The figure took a step forward, bringing its heavy scent of incense in Marik's nostrils. The boy immediately backed away and tried to latch onto the corner of the bathtub. His constricted, lavender eyes were fixed on the blackness of the others face. Suddenly, through the darkness, a small golden shine broke out.

 

Marik's eyes widened, as he saw bleach blonde hair identical to his own slip suddenly out the hood. A tanned profile sparked suddenly in the darkness of the figures face. The man raised his hand to pull down his hood as he spoke the last words.

 

“For all eternity”

 

The hood slipped down and Marik screamed. Oh yes, he screamed and tried to cower back into his corner like a frightened poodle, ignoring the slippery feeling of the bathtub floor. He didn't even care about his cowardly actions- he couldn't control them, anyway.

 

“CH- CHICHI-UE!! (1)” he shouted desperately, as the figure stepped closer to his shaking form.

 

“Mariku…” the man hissed in absolute sadism. His blonde beard swept over his cloak in that familiar, slow, frightening way. The lavender eyes completely identical to Marik's narrowed in sick pleasure. “You've been a very…very…VERY…bad boy…”

 

Marik shook his head frantically, trying to merge into the wall if possible. He shook and whimpered, not daring to speak louder. He didn't even dare look away from his father's eyes- he knew his Father hated that…he hated not being looked in the eyes…He wanted to see the pain and hate in his victims' eyes aimed solely at him.

 

Suddenly, Marik tried to reason with his thoughts. This wasn't right! Wasn't his father dead? He had died from cancer, just as Bakura said! Then what was this? Another hallucination? That was it!!

 

Marik shook his head again and gripped it in both hands, fighting his father's presence. “T-This isn't right…y-you d-don't exist…you died!!! You're dead!” Marik strained a convicted stare into his father's face “You don't exist!!”

 

The boy believed that his father's image would crumble instantly the moment he said that, but was horrified to realize that nothing happened. The man continued to glare at him with that satisfied, hurtful smirk. Why was he still there? Why? Why?

 

The bearded man raised his finger and made the stereotyped motion of refusal with his index finger. “Tsk tsk tsk…Mariku…you've been such a bad boy…now you must be punished…”

 

“NO!!” Marik wailed at him “Leave me!! You don't exist!! You died of cancer!! Go away!!!!!”

 

The man raised his leg and stepped into the now turbulent water of the bath tub. Marik saw his father curiously stabilize himself in the slippery tub. How could he do that? How could he always succeed in hurting Marik? How could he? How?

 

The man walked nonchalantly to tower over his son's shaking body.

 

“Did I die of cancer? I thought someone else killed me…” the man started, and suddenly turned an offensive finger towards Marik's form. “You did Marik!! YOU killed me!! Your own Father!”

 

Marik covered his ears with his hands and allowed his palms to squeeze his head in an effort to push everything away. “NO!!” the boy shouted “It's a lie!! I never touched you!! You died of an illness!!!”

 

“It was you, boy! You're the one who killed me!! With your little bloodstained hands!! You slaughtered your own Father!!” his hissing voice grew in intensity as he continued to shake an offensive finger at Marik.

 

“STOP!! I WOULD NEVER DO IT!! I'd never kill my own father!! I never did it!!!” he screamed back at the phantom.

 

The father smirked and stared hissing again “But you wanted to…you always wished for my death…You killed me!! You're my murderer! You took the Rod and butchered me like an animal!! And you liked it!!! You liked it, Mariku- you can't deny it! Your own Father…” the man's lavender eyes had widened in crazed satisfaction at his son's despair and guilt.

 

“The Millennium Rod never existed! It was a lie!! I never hurt my family!!” Marik shouted back, his hands still clutching his shaking head.

 

The robe-clad man grinned maniacally “But you wanted to kill me!! You wished you could! Do you deny it? Do you deny you wanted to taste your own father's blood in your sick small lips!!??”

 

Marik screamed and thrashed around frantically “I NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOU!! IT WAS MY YAMI!! MY YAMI DID EVERYTHING!! MY YAMI!! I NEVER WANTED TO HURT MY FATHER- MY YAMI DID!!!”

 

The cloaked figured smiled triumphantly “But you said that the Millennium Rod doesn't exist!! How could the Rod be a lie but your `Yami' still exist?”

 

Marik trembled again, his eyes widening at the logical conclusion. His pupils were fixed solely on his father's sadistic smile.

 

“You have no `Yami', Mariku!! There was never a `Yami'!! It was YOU all along!! YOU wanted to kill me!! YOU made a new whole world for yourself, just so you could watch yourself kill me with your own bare hands!!! YOU, Mariku!! Not `Yami'!! YOU!!! Just because you couldn't accept your own feelings, you spineless brat, you wanted to create a new personality!! Just so you could find an excuse to kill me!!”

 

Marik shook his head in desperation, his limbs and arms flailing around in desperation. “NO!! NO!! Chichiue!! Please!! NO!!”

 

His Father started laughing in that slow hiss “It was you!! You're a murderer!! You KILLED ME!!”

 

Marik shook his head frantically “It never happened!! It was all a hallucination!! I never really killed you! You died from cancer!!!” he shouted “I DIDN'T KILL YOU!!”

 

The man licked his blood-thirsty lips “It might have been a fake world, but you still felt it!! YOU did it Mariku!! YOU are guilty!! YOU'RE my murderer!! And you shall burn in hell, for daring to hate your father!! You shall burn in hell, you hear??!!! You hear me, my loyal son?? BURN IN HELL!!!”

 

Marik fell to his knees, shaking beneath his father's undeniably crazed glare. Those purple eyes…those piercing crystal eyes…they looked so much like his…Had he really? Had he really…killed his father, with his hate? Had his feelings…

 

“NO!! It can't be!! My Yami…I….” He brokenly started, sounding like an old broken record, waiting to be crushed. “I'M NOT GUILTY FOR YOUR DEATH!!!” he finally exploded, making his father stretch a hand forward, towards his face. Instantly, he cowered away, forcing his shaking figure against the wall once again.

 

“You're a murderer…Nothing but a cold-blooded killer…Just as I trained you to be…” Marik shook his head frantically, with his eyes fixed on the tanned digits that were closing in on his face. “You might hate me, son…but deep down, you're just like me…A blood-fetished, sadistic murderer, who always wanted to kill his own father…you just hated yourself too much for resembling me…and in the end, just because you didn't want to accept you were like me…you made a new `Marik'…a `Yami Marik'…just so you could have an excuse to kill me…but you are just like me…just like me…and you will burn in hell…just like me…”

 

The slim digits grazed over Marik's flesh, but he could feel nothing except cool air. It was a hallucination!! A hallucination!!!

 

“I'm nothing like you!! You don't know me!!! I'm nothing like you!!” Marik whispered hoarsely into the face of his one and only nightmare. He was trying to convince himself more than anyone else… He was not a beast! He was not his father!!

 

The smile lingered in the man's face again “…oh but I know you, Marik…I know you so much better than you know yourself…Let me show you…who you really are…”

 

And with that, the lavender eyes of the bearded man narrowed. Marik watched, shaking and whimpering, as small veins began to pop out of the man's forehead.

 

Marik's eyes widened at what he saw. The man's beard slowly dispersed to reveal lean, tanned jaws. The man's hair grew longer and finally rose into absolutely unruly, electrocuted spikes. More veins started to throb on the man's cheeks as a sleek, pink tongue came out in a crude, mocking gesture.

 

Marik saw the eyes…those eyes that hadn't changed one bit. They were plastered on a demented face, narrowed with hate and fury.

 

Marik's eyes widened…as he suddenly realized…the man wasn't his Father anymore…it was…himself…. Yami Marik.

 

“N-no…” Marik whimpered pathetically as he saw his own merciless homicidal face peer back at him. “I-It can't be…” he whispered, but then a sleek, crazed face came close to his.

 

`Yami Marik's' phantom body hovered into the air, above Marik's trembling form.

 

“Oh yes it can be….”

 

Marik heard his own voice answer back at him, that familiar paranoid edge driven into it. He tried to get away from the image of his own face, mutilated and distorted to match his father's disgusting eyes.

 

“We'll do it together, Mariku…” the voice coaxed as Marik squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“Don't deny it…you know you want it…don't you remember all the things we did together? I make you strong, Mariku…you would be nothing without me…”

 

Marik muttered his refusal over and over again, as he tried to focus on anything but the voice in his ears.

 

“Don't you want to be strong? Don't you want to be powerful…like your Father? I can help you, Mariku…I can help you beat him down…we'll be stronger than him…so much stronger…he'll never hurt us again! I won't lett him hurt you again…You know why
? Cause we'll KILL him!! That's right! Just the both of us!! And he'll be dead…You know you want it Mariku…”

 

Marik whimpered as he risked opening his eyes. His Father's solid glare flew back at him through the phantom's face.

 

“Remember how much you wanted it, Mariku? To be like your Father? To show him what he has done to you…To show everyone what he has done to you? I'll do that for you…I'll be him through you…no! I'll be BETTER than him through you! You always wanted it Marik! You always needed me!”

 

Suddenly, Marik understood. His `Yami Marik'…It was…his own feelings. It was the demon who chased his heart, the guilt that ate his conscience…the feelings that reminded him of his Father…it was all Yami Marik.

 

Not some `spirit', just himself -his feelings. Every time Marik did something wrong, every time he did something that reminded him of his Father…it was `Yami Marik' who did it…

 

And now, `Yami' was there, blinking back at him. Marik could finally see it. He could distinguish his father's contorted glare in `Yami's' demented face…Yami Marik…it wasn't another existence. It was no ancient spirit. It was just himself. A part of himself -a part of his soul.

 

His father had been right, after all. Marik had just cultivated the idea of `Yami Marik', out of the need to separate himself from his unwanted feelings.

 

He never wanted to accept the fact that he hated his own father…so he put the blame on `Yami Marik'…He couldn't wipe out his feelings of hate and pain…so he placed them all on `Yami Marik'…and in the end…the pent up feelings exploded…and he BECAME `Yami Marik'…

 

He got crazy and believed in all the things the demon was now telling him…so he created an imaginary world where he could finally get what he wanted: redemption for his pain- the killing of his Father…And when he finally got what he wanted in his dream world, it still wasn't enough for him…He had to put the blame for his father's `murder' on `Yami Marik' first, and then prove that Marik Ishtar was in truth a virtuous man who loved his Father deeply and sought revenge for his death…

 

So his entire problem…had been himself. Not his Father. It was HE who used to have unfinished business with his feelings. But now…he didn't need any more hate, right? He had gotten rid of his father…for good.

 

Yami Marik was there to show him that a part of what he hated- a part of his Father, was inside him. Yami Marik's cruel expression was the mirror image of the psychotic Father…that's what his Father had tried to tell him: that a part of him was indeed a merciless maniac.

 

But the rest of him…the rest of him…was a normal person. Something truly, completely different from his father.

 

“…I…” Marik started slowly, turning to look back at the demon in front of him “I don't…”

 

The demon's eyes flashed brilliantly, expecting an answer.

 

“I don't need you…anymore. You can go.”

 

The demon's eyes flashed again, and Marik suddenly found himself staring at nothing.

 

It was gone. Just like that.

 

He tried to assemble his still-shaking body, which was pinned to the corner. He couldn't get over the shock so easily, so he settled on trying to calm his frantic heart.

 

Distantly, he realized that the water which had seemed so cold a second ago, was now very warm again…how was that possible?

 

He acknowledged he couldn't stop trembling and couldn't stop his ragged breathing. Shakily, he stood up and felt his knees buckle. Miraculously, he held on to the wall and prevented his uncontrolled body from falling.

 

He instantly came out, and grabbed the towel for the sink. How was it possible for everything to seem so…normal? It was as though nothing had happened…

 

`Well technically, nothing did happen.' He thought miserably `I was just hallucinating again…'

 

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard form the door. Marik's still frail heart threatened to jump out of his ribcage. What now?

 

Loud voices and more heavy knocks were heard from the door. Marik's trembling body cowered away slightly.

 

“Mariku? Are you okay??!”

 

Ah…Bakura. He had come a little late, but it was nice of him to drop by, anyway.

 

“Marik? Open the door!! We heard screaming!! What's going on?”

 

And Isis...she sounded truly concerned.

 

Marik's brain boggled. What was he supposed to do? How would he cover the elements of his delirium? What kind of excuse would justify the wails and screams? `Oops…I slipped in the bathtub…' Nope. That wouldn't work…

 

Besides, Marik felt he needed to talk to someone about his wonderful experience. He needed to confess that he was crazy and he knew it…

 

Bakura would be the perfect choice of person to confide in. After all, Bakura was his lover, right?

 

But exactly because Bakura and he had a more intimate relationship, Marik didn't want to suddenly tell Bakura that he had another one of those hallucinations. Bakura said he trusted Marik's sanity…and Bakura was much too important for the Egyptian! Marik didn't want to lose Bakura's trust and faith.

 

Who to go to, though, if not Bakura?

 

As the banging on the door continued, Marik's memory sparked to life. `That shrink! He gave me his card!!'

 

The Egyptian's still-quivering hands fumbled to find his pants. He searched in the pockets quickly

 

Bingo!! The card was there! Now all he had to do was get out of there!!

 

“Mariku! Get out of there or I'll break down the door -I don't care WHAT you're dressed in!” Bakura shouted suddenly, his voice filled with intense worry.

 

Marik smiled a bit shakily as he walked to the door. Well… the `slipped in the bathtub' excuse would have to do for now…

 

 

 

(1) Chichi-ue: it means `MY Father' in Japanese. In the manga and the anime, Marik always calls his father `chichi-ue'