Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Scar Tissue ❯ Part 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
world is in need of some good Mariku guro, so I took it upon myself to write it. The fic is one big fic, but cut into sections. I learned from my Bronzeshipping oneshot that people don’t like to read, ironically enough, so I had to make this ‘chapter’ shorter than the whole fic itself. This fic is fucked up to the max, yo. It deals with very nasty things that most people will not like. But if you’re a sick degenerate like me, go ahead and enjoy it without any repercussions.

Plop. Plink. Pttp. There was water falling somewhere. Little drops that slapped against the floor, echoing around the room. In a rhythm, they would fall, one after another, and Mariku lost count of how many had joined the others in a little puddle on the floor. And it was dark. That, above all else, he knew. It was something so fundamental, so familiar, that he could take consolation in it. Because truly, it was the only thing he DID know now.

Cold, it was cold, and Mariku did not know where he was. All he knew was the feeling of concrete against his back, and the smell of something musty and old. Oh, and the chains. He couldn’t forget the chains that encircled his middle, keeping him firmly bound, his arms held to his sides. Connected to a loop in the wall, he could lean forward only about a foot or so before the chain links clicked together and became taut. Whoever had done this to him had been smart to take away the rod. It would seem that it would be common sense, but so far, all of his other opponents had not even thought of taking away his source of power. Pitiful. They were so stupid. But without it’s power and his control, he was as weak as…Malik.

Shifting, Mariku growled, the chain catching on a piece of his skin and pinching it, making his back arch in attempt to get away. Letting the binds around him move lower, he leaned back, resting against that cold, hard concrete wall. He could feel the coolness through his hair, and it made the back of his head cold, which felt good against his skin. Unwillingly, he was a little…nervous. His kidnapper had obviously moved him from the blimp, and to have done that, well…he didn’t know how they had. There was a whirring noise ever present from the generator room on the blimp that was gone now, replaced only with a deathly silence, and the occasional drip of water. That, and the fact that whoever had taken him captive had caught him in the first place. Mariku wasn’t stupid, nor was he imprudent. He would have not let himself be taken hostage so easily. Whoever had done it, must have drugged him. It was the only reasonable explanation.

Having tried to wriggle his way out of the chains earlier, it had proved futile. Mariku, instead, opted to struggle more, trying to move his arms so that he could reach the lock and maybe fiddle with it a little. Unfortunately, the only thing he had gained was overexertion, and was now currently in a worse state than he had felt before. Head hot from what he thought must have been the after affect of the drug, Mariku sighed, twisting a little so that he could lean his head against the wall. The feeling of the cool surface against his contrasting skin felt wonderful, and he savored it. Savored the feeling of feeling. Even in the situation he was in, he was still grateful for being alive, being able to touch the world around him. And then he heard a door creak, and click shut, a brief flash of light falling onto the floor.

Footsteps. A hollow sound as they grew louder and closer. Stairs. His kidnapper must have walked down stairs. And once his(it was a male, right?) feet clanked loudly onto something different, Mariku knew that they had reached the bottom.

It was an odd feeling, waiting for the inevitable introduction of his captor, and at the same time, not wanting it to happen at all. Though, Mariku would rather face the unknown than sit and wait for his fate to come to him. He’d had enough of sitting back, waiting and watching. Though, he barely had time to open his mouth and sling insults and a demand for explanation before his kidnapper beat him to it.

“Are you comfortable, Mariku?”

The voice was mocking, and he could hear the sarcasm in it, imagining a smirk to accompany it’s tone. But it was…familiar. So achingly familiar that Mariku forgot once again to yell.

“No.” His voice was set with malice, a perfect match for his kidnapper’s tone. HE WAS FUCKING MARIKU ISHTAR! Who dared to think that they could touch him!? He would kill them, stab them with the rod, tear it through their skin and watch the blood drip to the floor. Mariku shuddered at the welcome idea..

“Oh, too bad. I brought you all the way here, too, the least you could do is humor me.” More footsteps, the sound drowning out the dripping water. Mariku wished then that he could see, so that he could at least tell how close or far away they were.

“Maybe I would do so if you let me go. I don’t know what you want, but I swear to god that I’ll kill you once I get these off!” Trying once again to rid himself of the weight around his form, he grunted, getting no more far along than before.“Do you even think about what you’re going to say before you say it? …” They paused, seeming to find something funny. “If you really want to be let go, do you think that threatening me would be the best way to go about it?”

“…” Mariku opened his mouth, but found nothing to say, feeling angry that he had been dismissed so easily. Mariku hated being corrected.

“But it’s okay, you’ll learn eventually. Take your time, though, with that. It’ll be much more fun to watch you struggle.” And then he knew that voice, that familiar lift when he imagined a smirk, their eyes narrowed.

“Bakura!” Subconsciously, he relaxed. Bakura was no threat to him. Though…how had he managed to get his body back?

“You’re close.”

And then the lights flooded on. Mariku squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head against the sudden blinding invasion. After a while, he opened his eyes, squinting. Everything was blurry at first, and nothing had a refined, definite shape, but his eyes gradually became used to the artificial light. The first thing he noticed was how very white everything was. The walls and floor were, like he had thought, made out of concrete, and were cracking in some places, but were all painted a stark white color. There were pipes at one wall, a puddle forming near the base where a thick one led to the ground, explaining the dripping noise he had heard, and everything was dirty, grungy, and disgusting. Cabinets lined the walls, their contents unknown, and there was a sink in the corner where the water could be let down to an open drain in the floor. A table set in the middle of the room was illuminated by a hanging light, it’s bulb creating the blinding artificial light that engulfed everything around it. From what Mariku could see, there were straps placed all too conveniently on the table to be a coincidence, and he was left with an odd feeling in his stomach. Eerie was the only way to describe it, something out of an old horror movie, a sick and twisted operating room; a sight he would have loved, if he was the one in control. And of course, the main attraction bathed in the disturbing light was his captor, a light smile gracing his lips as he leaned against the table. Ryou Bakura.

“Where’s Bakura?” Ryou’s smile dropped when he growled at him, looking angry at how he brushed him aside. Hah. Could Ryou even be angry?

“Bakura’s not here right now,” Ryou said, straightening up a little, “in fact, you won’t be seeing much of Bakura at all.”

Mariku narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not knowing what was going on. Why was Ryou here? Had Bakura left him to deal with him? Not likely, the spirit usually seemed to use him only for his body and never gave him much control, so then…what? Had Ryou been the one to bring him here?

“What are you playing at?” It was a little unnerving when Ryou smiled afterwards, showing his teeth as he moved himself off the table to stand on his own.

“Mariku, what are you accusing me of? I just want to have a little fun.”

He frowned when Ryou walked slowly around the room, his eyes never moving off of his form as he continued to smile softly.

“You know,” he paused in front of him and he looked up, not liking how he was at his feet, “you’re quite harmless like this, without the rod. In fact,” another smile, “I believe I could do quite anything to you right now. Look at you, the great bringer of terror and darkness!, all tied up and unable to defend yourself. A little pitiful for you, don’t you think?” The way that he smiled was very, very perturbing. Ryou was a quiet, soft-spoken boy, as far as he had known. But really, he hadn’t seen much of him, only Bakura. But…he had killed Bakura, hadn’t he? He had won the shadow game. Bakura had died! That was the rule! Oh, but yes. Ryou was his host, and he could not die.

“Shut up!” Mariku growled, narrowing his eyes further. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you! I’ll rip your throat out, let me go! How dare you do this to me!? When I get the rod I swear that I’ll kill you!” He struggled in his binds, and only grew angrier when he saw the look of amusement on Ryou’s face.

Ryou tutted at him wagging a finger in mockery. “You’re so crude, Mariku. How do you think you’ll get the rod back? Will you duel me for it?” Another amused look. “Cards aren’t going to save you, Mariku, and they won’t set you free, either.”

What the hell was going on? Ryou hadn’t answered any of his questions, only continued to mock him with his young face and innocent eyes, that same small smile always plastered onto his face. It was starting to make him a little nervous, how he continued to stare at him, and Mariku shifted. Mariku was afraid of the fact that he could be nervous. Fear… He feared fear. Mariku was not the one who felt it - he was the one who caused it! And if he wasn’t…

“What do you want.” He said it bluntly.

“Well,” Ryou looked up, thoughtfully, “control, I suppose.” He seemed to notice his lack of understanding, and Ryou went on. “Its what you want, isn’t it? You’re driven for the desire to have something to call your own, a body, a name, an entire world? We’re not so different. But I want something else. I don’t want an entire world for my own. Actually, I think I’ll just settle for one person.” Mariku was confused when Ryou set a finger on his chest, dragging it slowly up to his chin, tilting his head upward when he stopped in front of him. “I guess you can say I’m…selfish.

Growling, Mariku shook his head away, not liking how Ryou touched him, manipulating his movements.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Mariku scoffed, turning his head to the side.

“Come on, I know you’re not stupid. Put two and two together.”

Mariku looked back at him a little warily, trying to make sense of what he had said. The facts were clear. He was tied up, away from the blimp, and his rod was gone. Thinking over what the white haired boy had told him, Mariku felt himself untense, becoming much more at ease with the situation. Really. The thought made Mariku laugh.

“You can’t keep me here. You’re too weak.” He looked up smugly. “Now come on and untie me, your game is over.”

“Mariku, this isn’t a game.” Ryou’s expression was odd. He seemed mad, but his facial features stayed calm as he kneeled down in front of him. “Do you not believe me? You think I’m weak? Oh, yeah, I forgot. I’m just quiet little Ryou, quiet little Ryou who wouldn’t ever even THINK of harming anybody. Just sweet, naïve, little Ryou who is easily manipulated by everyone around him. Nobody would ever think that quiet, innocent Ryou would ever be…sick.” He laughed then, and Mariku was once again confused. What was he going on about? “That’s what you think, right? That I’m just quiet and reserved. I wonder if you’ll still think that later on…I look forward to it. But let me tell you something.” Ryou leaned in close to him, and Mariku moved back, a little nervous by their close proximity and the odd look in the shorter’s eyes, but his head only met the wall, unable to move back farther. “I’m good at lying. I’m good at pretending. And I’m good at acting out the persona I need to be to get what I want. You think that what Bakura does to me goes against my will? I’m the one who tells him what to do. I’m the one who lets these things happen. I am the driving force behind everything he does. And I will be the one who wins in the end, the one who will conquer you, the powerful and beautiful. Don’t underestimate me, Mariku, I‘m much more…capable than you may think.” Ryou gave his little smile again, the light from the fluorescent bulb casting dark shadows across his face, making it come off much scarier than he had probably meant it to be. Probably.

“You can’t beat me.” Mariku didn’t look away, not wanting to back down. “You don’t have it in you.”

Ryou laughed again and drew away, but did not move from his spot in front of him. “We’ll see, Mariku. …Do you know what I’m going to do with you?”

Mariku frowned, partly from how he had been laughed at, and partly from the fact that he didn’t seem to have much control, that Ryou probably could do anything he would like to him. The thought worried him.

“No.”

“Would you like to guess?” Ryou smiled, crossing his legs and rested his hands in his lap, leaning forward a little again.

“No.” Really, he didn’t want to. The way that Ryou was acting definantly wasn’t normal.

“Come on, guess. It’ll be fun.” He frowned, sweeping a bit of his white hair from his face and behind his ear.

“I don’t want to. Let me go.”

“That won’t be happening any time soon, Mariku. Give it up. But first, I should probably go get-… I’ll be right back.” Ryou stood, and Mariku watched as he left his field of view, walking to a part of the room that he could not see, even when he twisted his head to look for him. He heard him move around, something clanking ever so often, a little hollow sounding, a bottle, maybe?, before the sound stopped, and he seemed to find what he was looking for. Hearing his steps before he could see him, Ryou returned, holding something that looked like a black strap connected to some sort of machine, with two rectangular flaps one end, and a red colored strip at the other. Mariku eyed it warily.

“What are you doing?” His voice came out a little more worried than he had meant to sound, but he ignored it, watching as Ryou knelt back down in front of him.

“Making sure that everything will go according to plan.” Ryou moved his attention to what he was holding, fussing around with the straps and a white sort of sleeve. His eyes flicked up to Mariku’s own, and he paused. “I’m going to unchain you. Sit still.” Mariku laughed to himself. To think that he thought Ryou had been clever. Pfft. He would run the minute he felt the chain come loose. And then, of course, he would kill him. But what he was not expecting was when Ryou stood up again, and instead of reaching to undo his binds, he left to the counters, picking something all to familiar up.

“One day, you’ll be obedient and won’t even think of disobeying me, but for now, I have to resort to this.”

And Mariku could only watch in muted horror as his rod was pointed towards him, giving him no time to retaliate before his mind locked up, his body completely stiff, as if in Rigimortis. It was only sweet irony that he was in this situation, the source of all of his power and ability to reign terror over humanity, was now being used on him. Unable to move, his physical self was under the complete control of his kidnapper, and even his mind was influenced by it’s affect. He could still feel the basic fear and sickness at the thought of what was happening, but other than that, he could only barely comprehend as Ryou walked back towards him. Hearing nothing, he did not even have the ability to feel anymore. Were his nerve endings under the rod’s power, as well? So this was what it was like to be a slave to the rod, completely and utterly cut off from the rest of the world, a doll, a puppet, only waiting for a command from it’s wielder. It was morbidly funny, actually. He hadn’t imagined that the feeling would be so similar to his birth. Unable to do anything than just sit and watch as his body was manipulated, only then, it had been Malik who was the puppeteer, and he didn’t even have a physical being, only a mind, a soul created out of hate and anger. Really, he shouldn’t be so poetic about things.

He could only numbly recognize Ryou unchain him from the wall as he moved his right arm from his side, limp without his mind telling it what to do. Picking it up, Ryou slipped the white sleeve like thing onto his arm, pushing it up until it reached his shoulder. Satisfied with where he left it, Ryou moved to the black strap. This took more time as he fumbled with it, attaching the straps to the opposite end, creating a loop where his upper arm was trapped, near the shoulder, and on top of the white sleeve. Moving over the machine that was plugged into the wall, he attached some wires to the strap around his arm. He pressed a variety of buttons, none of which meant anything to him, and he could faintly comprehend the machine coming to life. And right when it did, he felt that black strap tighten instantly around his arm, and god, it hurt.

When he finally regained control of his body, he was once again chained, and Ryou held the rod in his hands. Only now his arm was elevated by…something, but he did not want to turn his head to look.

“What did you-”

“It’s a tourniquet.” Ryou cut him off, shifting ever closer to him. “The LOP will cut off circulation from your arteries and veins to your arm; I don’t want things to get too messy. The machine is filled with compressed gas to regulate the pressure I choose to put onto your arm. This machine will save me so much time, Mariku. You should thank it for helping you.”

Something was not right. Something so basic, so…concrete, that Mariku had trouble telling what it was. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand Ryou’s words or actions, and he most definantly didn’t understand the way Ryou was running his pale hands through his hair. A little shakey after the effect of the rod, everything that his skin came in contact with felt so much more profound, like how he had felt when he had first taken control of Malik‘s body. It felt like his birth. Ryou had moved off from the floor in front of him to sit somewhere near his thighs, and Mariku tensed a little at how close they were. The way Ryou was acting seemed odd, dangerous, even, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near him, especially after he had used his rod on him.

“…Why?”

“You know,” his question went unnoticed, and Ryou only paused, his hand resting on the back of his head, head leaning on his left shoulder, “once you’ve calmed down and realized it’s pointless to fight back against me, you’re pretty warm, Mariku. Or I guess, Malik is, since this IS the body you’ve stolen from him. I wonder if he will try to take control, later?” Of course he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Was Ryou really that stupid? “I suppose,” Ryou spoke softly, almost to himself, and he moved his head of white hair up to face him, his eyelids lowered partly, “that I could start now…”

Everything about Ryou was soft. His hair, his eyes, his skin, his lips… and his personality too, right? Or at least, he had thought. Because when Ryou moved to kiss him, nothing about it was soft. He crushed their lips together forcefully and suddenly, pulling his head to him as he kissed him with an open mouth. Jerking his hair down, Mariku gasped, getting the desired affect as he shoved his tongue into his mouth. Everything was hot, hot, hot as he felt his breath on his face, Ryou’s other hand groping at what part of his body he could find through the chains. Ryou moaned, pressing him back into the wall, moving his tongue in his mouth to his own. He drew away only to kiss him more and with greater force, and Mariku could sometimes feel his teeth instead of his lips. Their bodies were pressed close, and Ryou continued to advance on him until there was no room to move, his legs on either side of his hips. Trapped. He was trapped.

“God.” Ryou’s voice was heavy between kisses, and his hand tightened in his hair, jerking his head away. “I knew I made a good choice when I brought you here.”

Mariku breathed heavily, Ryou having moved his head at an uncomfortable angle, and for the first time in his life, he felt the feeling of fear. He felt control slipping quite literally through his fingers, and he could do nothing about it, couldn’t even reach to grab it back, left vulnerable without the rod, stripped of his power; Mariku felt naked. And Ryou was taking advantage of him. Mariku had never…kissed anyone before. Mariku feared fear.

“What’s that look for, Mariku, hmm?” Ryou grinned and he shook his head with his hand, making Mariku gasp. He really liked to abuse his hair. “I asked you a question!” And Ryou made an angry sound that he would have previously thought to be out of character as he wrenched his head farther back so that he thought his neck might break.

“I don’t know!” Mariku didn’t like the way how Ryou was talking to him, the way he was touching him, or the way he seemed so volatile. In fact, Ryou was starting to… scare him.

“Oh, but Mariku, I think you do. What is it that you don’t want to tell me?” Ryou smiled, and Mariku could see his teeth.

“Get off of me!” Mariku snarled at Ryou and bucked his hips up to try and get him off, which only made him laugh and tighten his grip on his hair. The situation was really starting to scare him now. He wanted to go back to the blimp.

In a basic sense, the thought of fear scared him more than the actual feeling. The thought of having such a weak emotion…it was like admitting defeat. Mariku didn’t want to sit back and let things happen to him. No. Never again. What he wanted, what he needed… he needed to be in charge, in control, to create fear, not take it. Fear was something he could not feel, something he shouldn’t be able to feel, something that he didn’t deserve to feel. Hadn’t he suffered more than someone should? He had felt his share of pain, he had lived through his birth and what he supposed he could call his ‘childhood.’ The worst was over, he had beat it, he had won. He shouldn’t have to feel fear.

“If you keep moving around so violently…” Ryou had managed to subdue his struggling for a while, and moved his other hand back into his hair. “you’ll put the LOP in jeopardy of being broken. You REALLY don’t want that to happen, Mariku.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Snarling back at him, Mariku moved his leg, reasoning that the next time Ryou left, he would kick him on his return. “…Why?” He said it almost suspiciously, again wary at what Ryou wanted and was going to do to him.

“Because I have to regulate the blood flow to your arm. Amputation isn’t fun when there’s a blood filled area to operate.”

“…Wh-what!?” He couldn’t have heard that right. What…the hell!?

“I’m going to cut off your arm, Mariku.” And Ryou gave his twisted smile.

---

I like to play on the idea that, without having the source of control, his rod, that Mariku is much more vulnerable and human. His power is only so limited, and without it, I think he would feel very lost. At the least. And having the rod gone and being vulnerable, yes, I do think he could feel fear. You know the saying: the only thing to fear is fear itself? I wanted to play on this idea.

And as for Ryou… he has a fascination with blood and cult like things. I like the idea of him being a very screwed up person with screwed up fantasies. He’s not cute and fluffy, he’s just a good actor. Remember when he told Jonouchi when his arm had been cut that he was not scared of the blood and that it was ‘cool’? I’m sure that he has much deeper fantasies than that.

The review button needs some pimping from your mouse.