Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Scar Tissue ❯ Part o2 ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Yao-Ling 
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 06.28.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.3K | Visits: 291 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 06.28.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.3K | Visits: 291 | Status: Work In Progress
Update for the lulz! Mariku’s torment is so easy to laugh at. So um, yes. Update for you. Not much to say other than- Mariku sometimes refers to himself as Malik. Since they are both the same person, he does this to show how he does understand what Ryou has said. It might get confusing with the names. Here’s it simple for you: Mariku = Malik. There. Now go read.
Mariku felt his jaw go lax, and he stared at Ryou dead in the eyes. He hadn’t heard that. There was no way he had heard that right. Mariku had heard every word that he had said.
He couldn’t deal with this, with the thought of what Ryou had said was going to happen to him, what he had no choice in letting happen to him. Without the rod, he had nothing. This was so fucked up. Mariku had to get away. He had to. Frantically, he struggled in the chains, listening to them clank against one another as he hyperventilated, repressing the urge to scream. This was crazy, this was absolutely absurd, and there was something so animalistic in his attempts to escape from his tormentor that scared him further. Mariku had to get out of here.
“Do you believe me now, Mariku Ishtar!?” Ryou’s voice was choppy as he tried to get him to calm and not accidentally break his arm out from whatever was elevating it, “Do you still believe that I am quiet and kind!?” Ryou was cruel as he laughed, and Mariku wondered faintly if this was still the same person. His laughs stopped short though when he realized that he was jerking his arm away from its binds. “Stop moving.”
He must have been crazy to think that he would not become frantic when he told him flat out that he was going to hurt and mutilate him. Ryou had to be insane, completely insane. …Actually, that sounded just about right, right now.
“Get the fuck off of me!“ He tried kicking his legs to get Ryou off of him, but it did little good as he slid up his body, out of the way from his kicks. What he needed to do was hurt him, kill him, show him that he was MARIKU, and he would not give in and let somebody try and do ANYTHING to him. He would kill this boy. Yes, Mariku wouldn’t fear him, fear was for the weak, and he was no where near weak; Mariku would fight him, destroy him.
Suddenly, his struggles stopped, the only noise his labored breathing and the soft whirring of the machine attached to the cuff around the junction of his arm and his shoulder. Ryou sighed, and moved to sit back down onto his legs, hands moving from his hair to his chest where he felt it rise and fall with his breaths.
“That’s good, Mariku, just be calm. I have a lot more to talk to you about. Yes…like that.” He smiled softly, though with the same eerie expression he had worn earlier.
“Don’t you fucking dare patronize me.” Hissing, Mariku glared at him, earning another amused look.
“Oh, I thought you had gotten over cursing at me. But I guess all in time…” Ryou’s voice faded off, leaving behind only a twisted grin as he looked down at him, pressed up against his chest.
Mariku’s dead eyes stared down at him, and while looking at his white blonde hair, he felt a laugh rise up in his chest. How had he been so stupid? Ryou, being anything other than the weak host of Bakura… Hah. Mariku laughed suddenly out loud at the thought, making Ryou glance questioningly up at him. Honestly, to think that he had gotten worried over what Ryou had said. Laughing harder, he threw his head back and let his laughs make his shoulders shake with the effort. He was going to cut his arm off! Like hell! Ryou was just bluffing, and he couldn’t believe he had fallen for it!
“You’re right, Ryou,” he said, calming down a bit, “you’re not just quiet and meek; You’re also funny as hell!”
Ryou looked up at him and frowned, but he didn’t appear very angry, which was a bit odd. Or maybe, it was because of that smug look that was still plastered on his face. “Am I really? Tell me how, I mean, I’d love to know.”
“Don’t you play smart with me.” Mariku growled, coming off of his high of laughing. He hated being talked to like a child. But his face lost its angry expression when he remembered that this person was of no threat to him. “…But to have me fall for an act like that…bravo. The thought is hilarious. Now untie me, and maybe I’ll spare your life. I can’t honestly believe that you’d thought that you’d get away with such a trick like that without being punished.” Mariku smirked, gently letting the nervous flutters in his chest ease away. He was glad for their absence, and what all they represented. Really, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions so fast. Amputation. Yeah, right. But, even still, there was still something that remained in his chest that kept him wary, remembering the way that Ryou had…kissed him.
“You’re going to punish me, hmm?” Ryou grinned and tilted his head to the side, rubbing his hands against his chest. “I’ll be interested to see how far you’ll get with that.”
“I swear to whatever god that’s up there, that if you don’t stop this right now, I really will fucking kill you.” Mariku growled and bared his teeth, bucking up against Ryou’s body, trying to get him off of him. Really, he didn’t like him so close. “And wipe that damn smile off of your face.”
Looking amused, Ryou tilted his head up at a haughty angle. “What, you’re growling at me, now? Do you think that makes me scared? You sound like an animal.” He paused for a moment, but shook his head, the smile plastered on his face never leaving. “And, but oh, Mariku. I have a lot to smile about. -…Would you like to hear?”
“Not particularly.” Mariku only bared his teeth more at Ryou’s remarks, trying to hide the flush that crept up his face when he commented on him being animalistic. Ah. Embarrassment. He had never felt that before… Mariku didn’t like it, it made him feel weak. But, emotions generally did that. He didn’t need them to plunge the world into darkness.
“Well you’d better start becoming more compliant,” Ryou’s voice took on that dark tone again, and Mariku wondered if he really was volatile. Shaking his head a little, he cleared it from his mind. Of course he wasn’t. It had just been an act. “Because right now, you’re at my mercy, and if I don’t like what you do, or say, I can make your life a living hell.” Slamming his hands down on the wall on either side of his head, Ryou emphasized his statement and leaned in close to his face so that their foreheads were almost touching. “And right now, I don’t exactly appreciate you calling me a liar or an actor. If I’m such a fucking actor, if I’m so fucking hilarious, I want to hear you applaud me.” Frowning deeply at him, Ryou’s frown turned into a glare. Coupled with the artificial fluorescent light in the background, his pale face took on a eerie glow.
Mariku was at a loss for words, feeling his mouth go a little dry. But, he didn’t understand. He wasn’t scared of Ryou, he knew that this was all a big joke, and that he was just taking this too far, but… the facts made him question that idea. What reason would Ryou Bakura have to do this to him, if it was just a joke? They had never once spoken, and he had only seen him through Malik’s eyes. And…he had killed Bakura, hadn’t he? That had been Ryou’s body, as he was his host. They had never met, and yet, Ryou knew him by name. Ryou had been quiet and kind, his face smiling in a cute way. There was nothing cute about this now as his arm was trapped in a tourniquet, Ryou claiming to prepare him for amputation. Maybe, it wasn’t a joke at all, and he had just used that idea to comfort himself. Or maybe, all he needed to do was kill this boy.
“Well maybe I would,” leaning in the rest of the way so that their foreheads did touch, Mariku’s voice was a hiss as he grit his teeth an narrowed his eyes, “if you’d get this fucking thing off of my arm-Ah!” Eyes widening suddenly, Mariku gasped and recoiled so fast away from him that his head hit with a ‘crack’ against the wall. A sudden searing pain pierced through his arm and shoulder where the tourniquet was positioned. Pain…he loved pain. It made him feel alive, reminded him that he was living. But that was when he willed it. Pain… he did not love pain when someone else was in control. Mariku did not feel so self assured now. Faintly, he heard Ryou’s harsh and mocking laugh.
“Why are you gasping, Mariku!? Are you in pain!? I thought you said that I was hilarious! So come on, I want to hear you laughing instead if I’m so damn funny! Its rude to scream at someone’s performance!” He hadn’t noticed Ryou reach over to the machine, but he felt it now as the tourniquet tightened to an unbearable pressure around the junction of his upper arm and shoulder. It was as if he could feel the tissue underneath being compressed into his muscle, the arteries and veins being trapped underneath it as they pressed against the bone, squeezing them closer and closer together until he feared that his flesh would be either forced out through the openings of the tourniquet or be crushed and deformed in the process. The pain was unlike anything he had felt before. Shadow games, illusions… they weren’t real, even if he could feel it. When Mai had cut his head off, he could feel the blade slice through his skin, tearing the muscle and mutilating his flesh as it went all the way through, cutting through his neck and spinal cord, but he had loved it. Because he knew that he would kill her in the end. It hadn’t hurt, then. It just gave him a rush of adrenaline. This was real, though, and Mariku wasn’t so sure if he would be able to still believe that Ryou was joking - and survive.
“F-Fuck, turn it off, turn it off!” His teeth ground together and his eyebrows furrowed in exertion as he fought off the urge to scream, kicking his feet against the floor in a desperate attempt to portray that he was serious. It wasn’t begging or pleading, it was persuading. Mariku would never beg. Ever.
“Then do you think I’m still lying?! Do you think that what I’m doing to you is just a big joke!?” He couldn’t even feel Ryou anymore, or the pain in his head when he had jerked back, through the haze of agony in his arm. Was Ryou still straddling him anymore?
“N-No! Just stop it, stop it! You’re serious, it’s not a joke!” Mariku didn’t actually know if he believed that or not, he just wanted the pain to go away.
“That doesn’t sound quite sincere enough.” Ryou’s words were sadistic as he felt his hands in his hair once again. “But in favor of having you not pass out so early, I’ll ease up a little.”
Grinding his teeth together in one last final effort to not scream, Mariku almost didn’t comprehend it when Ryou reached over to his left once again and turned the knobs back to their original position. The pain left him numb to any feeling (almost exactly like the rod had), and Mariku’s back stiffened up against the wall. He felt the pressure slowly let up on his arm to the point it had been originally, and Mariku let his head fall back, breathing deeply, his eyes closed. He could feel his breaths come in quickly, yet they were labored, and once or twice he coughed when the air didn’t enter his lungs correctly. Mariku felt weak, and he couldn’t stand it. Ryou had hardly even done anything and yet this is how he reacted? Like he had just been brutally abused? How had the pain spread so quickly if it was just in his arm? It was…because he was human. He was human, and he could die. His life could be lost so easily, and there would be no way back. He was not like Yami Yuugi. He was not like Yami Bakura. If he died, he would never come back.
“It’d be better if you calmed your heart rate. Having your heart beat so fast will just increase blood flow through your body, which I’m sure you won’t like.” Ryou’s voice was harsh, and it cut sharply through his mind, making his head hurt with every syllable.
Clenching his teeth together, Mariku listened to what Ryou had said. It took concentration to keep his breaths coming steady and not raggedly. With his eyes closed, it made him feel a little bit better, not really feeling in the mood to look at Ryou’s horrible, mockingly young face. He was such a tormentor, kept damn straight on having the bit of sanity that he had to call his own crushed beneath his every glancing look. Keeping his mouth shut, Mariku breathed through his nose and tried not to concentrate on where Ryou’s hands wandered on him. Which was strange. His body was not fascinating. To him, to Mariku himself, his body was his ultimate prize for winning over Malik’s mind. But what reason would there be for Ryou to touch him? They were both male, the same age; he was nothing special to Ryou.
“It still hurts.” Trying to have his voice sound apathetic as possible towards the pain, Mariku would not give Ryou the satisfaction of admitting that the grip of the tourniquet still hurt him. But he did want the thing off of him so that, of course, he could strangle and kill him, so Mariku would sink down to admitting his discomfort. Maybe Ryou would take it off if he talked calmly enough.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like pain?” Ryou’s tone was again the one of his usual quiet self, and it took him a while to reply, still seeming fascinated by running his hands over his chest. “No, you love pain. So what reason would you have to want it gone? I know that you felt pleasure when I hurt you, and please, if it’s pleasurable at all, feel free to vocalize it and not hold back.” His voice was sickeningly sweet as he mocked him with a smile.
Frowning at him as Ryou shifted to sit upon his lap so that they were directly eye level, Mariku narrowed his eyes in hatred, and in confusion. “I never said that-”
“You did, Mariku. You told Bakura all about it, you fucking masochist, pervert.”
“How-?” It was only confusion that he felt now as his mind tried to work over what Ryou had said. How had Ryou witnessed his duel with Bakura and Malik when he had not been there? Nothing with Ryou ever made sense anymore. He chose to ignore the ‘pervert’ comment for the time being. It was just another tick on the list of reasons he would have to kill him.
“Through our mind link.” Ryou gave his twisted grin and tapped his head with one finger to emphasize his point. “You have one with Malik, too, but I suppose it wouldn’t be the same as the one between me and my yami. After all, you are Malik, the part of Malik who hates the world and all that it’s done to him, a split personality created to help you deal with your initiation. But still, you are Malik.” He paused for a second, seeming to think over his words, and Mariku too, did the same. It was all true, what Ryou had said. Too much true that Mariku didn’t want to think about it, and never had. It was too hard, and it hurt. “I’m sure that you can find the part of you that was the old Malik and speak to him as I do with Bakura. Try it, Mariku. It won’t hurt anything.”
Ryou’s words were beginning to bring up unwanted thoughts, the ones that he had tried desperately to hide beneath hatred ever since he had created this split personality. He was not ready to deal with the idea that he was one person, that everything he had done was nobody’s fault but his own, that he had created this demon called Mariku, himself. The thoughts made his mind real with confusion and fear. Fear. A new feeling; he never wanted to experience it again. With thinking of his psyche, the part of himself that was Malik began to resurface, and Mariku tried desperately to shove him back into the corner of his mind, scared of having him replace himself in their mind and to go back to the dark, relinquishing the hold and control over their body. It was his own personal battle as he sat restrained and hurting in Ryou’s white hell.
“I can’t. Fuck it, I can’t. I won’t.” Fearing his own fear, Mariku was afraid when he heard his voice waver a bit, again afraid of having the control of being strong and unbreakable being taken from him.
“Do it!” Ryou was angry at his words, when he refused to obey his command. Eyes glinting with the now new look of insanity, Ryou hissed his threat. “You do it,” his voice was a whisper, and Mariku strained to hear it “and I don’t turn the pressure all the way up. You don’t do it, and I’ll say ‘fuck it’ to the damn LOP, and your suffering will be multiplied ten times worse when it comes time for me to rid you of your arm. A first of many lessons: you will learn to do what I say.” Narrowing his eyes at him as he stared hard at him, his eyes did not leave his own until Mariku unwillingly gulped, still shaken from his thoughts of accepting that he and Malik were the same. It both amazed and angered him that Ryou could make him so horribly confused and…scared. He hated him for making him confront his own humanity.
Again trying to hide his shaken expression, Mariku wore the one of apathy as he closed his eyes again. Maybe what Ryou said was true, and it wouldn’t hurt him to at least try to contact Malik. He was in the mood to use him as a scapegoat for his hatred, anyway.
Concentrating on trying to will him to appear, Mariku growled in frustration when he heard nothing. “It doesn’t work.”
“Whenever I speak to him, it comes naturally, like he’s standing in my mind right next to me. It’ll come if you try hard enough. Don’t force yourself to concentrate, just relax.” Mariku found it unnerving how Ryou’s could be yelling and making threats of amputation one minute, and be soft and sweet the next. But unnerving was too soft of a word than what he felt when Ryou stroked his skin gently then. Was he gentle, or was he not?
He listened to Ryou’s words, telling himself that maybe, he needed to try and speak to the part of him that was Malik. Making himself forcefully relax, his face let up from his previously frustrated expression. His mind was blank, and he felt a bit ridiculous, trying to contact Malik when he knew that nobody would answer. They sat quietly for a while, the only noise the soft whirring of the machine next to him, and Mariku dully noted a sort of heavy feeling in the back of his mind. It was a mass of space in his head, and he could almost feel its physical weight as it grew, and with it, grew a soft sound of static. Frowning at the noise, Mariku gasped as a sharp pain was felt in his mind, and with it, came memories. They flashed against his subconscious, each one resurfacing feelings he had never had wanted to feel again. Memories of his imprisonment in hell, in the back of Malik’s mind, where he watched silently as Malik suffered and he was unseen. They were the terrible memories that he had lived through, the ones where he begged to die, where he begged Malik to recognize him, where he slowly grew and learned to live off of hatred.
Bombarded with feelings, Mariku let go of a quick breath when everything went suddenly silent and his mind was plunged into numbness. Faintly, he could feel small tremors where his hand would tap against the floor quickly from shock of what he had been forced to remember. There were so many feelings now as he recovered from his onslaught of memories. Fear, anger, loneliness, sadness, hatred, he remembered feeling them all, but they were so foreign, the only emotion Mariku had hung onto being hate as he made the feeling his own, his way of living life. But he felt them all again now, and he remembered. He remembered the horrible, aching loneliness of his dark imprisonment, remembered the way that his creator, Malik, himself, did not even recognize his existence. The emotions were multitudes worse now as he relived them, and Mariku could not cope. Like an addict, ending those feelings had been the hardest thing he had ever done, being born, and reliving them again was all too easy. It hurt. Mariku ached with the reminder that he was human. Malik, it must have been Malik who did this to him, who made him remember his childhood. Malik was getting revenge for him taking control of their body. Damn him… would he ever be rid of his weak side?
“I can’t hear anything.” Struggling to keep up the normal, flat tone of his voice, Mariku voiced what both he and Ryou knew.
“You must have killed him. To not be able to feel the other half of yourself-… you’re a murderer.” Ryou’s words were harsh, and they played upon an idea that Mariku was very familiar with.
Death.
He had always known of death. Death was his fickle lover who he played with promiscuously. It had been their father first, when he had first felt the adrenaline of killing, of freedom, of revenge. He had seen it, mused upon it, lived it. After all, Mariku had never truly been alive before only such a short time ago. He was only a shadow, a fleeting thought in the back of their mind. He had been dead. And he had been prepared to kill Rishid, too, and Mariku growled inwardly at the reminder of who had stopped him. Mai, she would be dead soon, and Mariku felt himself smirk a little at the thought that he would be her murderer in due time. And Malik. For so long he had wanted to be rid of him, to kill him, and yet, he couldn’t, and he even if he could physically, he…didn’t think he could do it. It would be heresy to kill the original part of himself, his creator. Mariku wanted acceptance.
But now, death seemed like an untouchable thing, a enigmatic thing. It was no longer so welcome in his mind. Ah, another feeling; the feeling of being lost. Without living close to death, what did he have? Mariku was human, Mariku was nothing, and he could be killed easily. Ryou, Ryou had been the one to make him see this, and it scared him. He was not a god and he could die just as easily as he could kill. He was not immune from death, him nor Malik.
“-Or he cut ties from you. Poor Mariku, all alone. No one wants you. Nobody ever wanted you.”
He paused at the thought, blinking his eyes open to look at Ryou as he spoke to him, confused when his expression felt not cold and angry, but…despondent. Because…it was true, and he knew it. He had always known it.
“Your father didn’t want you, he hated you. Malik didn’t want you, he hates you with everything that he has. You ruined his life, after all. He wants nothing more to have you dead, that is, of course, if he’s still alive and you haven’t killed him yet.” Ryou smiled as he mused over this, and Mariku felt the familiar feeling of hatred, and it was a comforting thing. He hated him. Hate. But a part of him listened to his words and realized them for the truth. Could he hate Ryou for something that was not his fault? …Yes, he could. He could hate whoever he wanted! But if that was true, why did the feeling of sadness not leave him now? It had left him so long ago, but with remembering his childhood, it stayed, and would not leave. Ryou’s words made it grow. “You don’t even want yourself, Malik. You created the part of you, Mariku, to rid you of yourself, to take over so that you never had to live again. That’s it, isn’t it? You hate yourself. Even when you created Mariku, you hated him. You tell yourself that you hate Mariku for killing your father, but you know that’s not the real reason. You hate him for doing what you could not, for being the you that you could not be, and so you shunned yourself, Mariku. You are Malik, you are Mariku, and you hate yourself.” His eyes narrowed in a fake softness, leaning in closer to him so that their skin touched, separated only by layers of clothes. And Mariku again was confronted with the very facts of his being. These were things that he could not deal with. Malik didn’t want to accept himself.
Wrapping one arm around him, Ryou held him tight against his chest, his other hand groping his chest and thighs and anywhere he could reach. Molestation. His hands were not wanted, his touches were not consensual; just as he touched him and his body responded, Ryou’s words were shaping his mind into what he wanted it as. Weak. “But I want you, Malik, Mariku. I think you’re beautiful. With me, you’re wanted. You are needed with me, and I plan on showing you this to my fullest extent. But you will never be loved. Love is not for a thing like you. I am not here to love you, but I want you more then anything else I have ever laid my eyes on. You are my prize, my grand token as I become god over the world with the sennen items. You were competition, Mariku, with your ambitions to rule over the world, and I couldn’t have you jeopardizing my goals.
“But I promise that when the world is mine, you will be able to taste that power. I’m going to keep you, I won’t let you die. You’ll be my pet, wanted, but not loved. It’s you who believes that emotions are weak, and if I gave into them, well…” Ryou lowered his head to the side and laughed lightly, glancing up to him with his damned eyes and dark expression, small smile accenting his now believable insanity. Mariku was not so sure that this was a joke anymore, “I believe that you would be the one to do me in at the end.” Eyes glinting with a knowledge that went beyond his understanding, Mariku was once again surprised as Ryou held the back of his neck, kissing him.
It wasn’t harsh like the other had been, but more soft, gentle, contradicting the words that he had just spoken. Ryou’s kiss mimicked the way that he had said his life would be like, a pet, his pet. His lips were soft against his own, and there wasn’t even a flick of his tongue against them. And this time, he kissed back, even if it was just as softly. There was a sort of desperation in the back of his mind that said to cling to this affection that Ryou was giving to him. After all, nobody had ever touched him so kindly as he was now, and he ached for his touch as he ran his hands down his back. But his words were not reflected over. Mariku knew that it was all a joke. And if it wasn’t-
“Maybe I’m already fucked,” Ryou’s voice was breathy now as he drew away, speaking close to his ear as he rested his head on his shoulder, “because I love your body already.” He paused for a while as Mariku was left to experience the feeling of disgust; he had kissed him back.
“Do you feel this?” Ryou was excited now as he spoke.
“No.” Mariku was relieved when his voice came out cold, hoping that his moment of weakness was leaving.
Ryou’s face was in front of him now as he grinned at his reply, the grin that he gave when he spoke of amputation. “For the past two minutes, your arm has been under severe pressure, and yet, you have felt nothing. You’re ready for what I’ve brought you here for. I think it’s time that you’re ready to be rid of that arm.”
There was no reason to be horrified of Ryou’s words. After all, you laughed at a joke.
As a pimp, the ‘go’ button is your bitch. Feel free to click it aaaaall you want. Yes, just like that, baby.
Mariku felt his jaw go lax, and he stared at Ryou dead in the eyes. He hadn’t heard that. There was no way he had heard that right. Mariku had heard every word that he had said.
He couldn’t deal with this, with the thought of what Ryou had said was going to happen to him, what he had no choice in letting happen to him. Without the rod, he had nothing. This was so fucked up. Mariku had to get away. He had to. Frantically, he struggled in the chains, listening to them clank against one another as he hyperventilated, repressing the urge to scream. This was crazy, this was absolutely absurd, and there was something so animalistic in his attempts to escape from his tormentor that scared him further. Mariku had to get out of here.
“Do you believe me now, Mariku Ishtar!?” Ryou’s voice was choppy as he tried to get him to calm and not accidentally break his arm out from whatever was elevating it, “Do you still believe that I am quiet and kind!?” Ryou was cruel as he laughed, and Mariku wondered faintly if this was still the same person. His laughs stopped short though when he realized that he was jerking his arm away from its binds. “Stop moving.”
He must have been crazy to think that he would not become frantic when he told him flat out that he was going to hurt and mutilate him. Ryou had to be insane, completely insane. …Actually, that sounded just about right, right now.
“Get the fuck off of me!“ He tried kicking his legs to get Ryou off of him, but it did little good as he slid up his body, out of the way from his kicks. What he needed to do was hurt him, kill him, show him that he was MARIKU, and he would not give in and let somebody try and do ANYTHING to him. He would kill this boy. Yes, Mariku wouldn’t fear him, fear was for the weak, and he was no where near weak; Mariku would fight him, destroy him.
Suddenly, his struggles stopped, the only noise his labored breathing and the soft whirring of the machine attached to the cuff around the junction of his arm and his shoulder. Ryou sighed, and moved to sit back down onto his legs, hands moving from his hair to his chest where he felt it rise and fall with his breaths.
“That’s good, Mariku, just be calm. I have a lot more to talk to you about. Yes…like that.” He smiled softly, though with the same eerie expression he had worn earlier.
“Don’t you fucking dare patronize me.” Hissing, Mariku glared at him, earning another amused look.
“Oh, I thought you had gotten over cursing at me. But I guess all in time…” Ryou’s voice faded off, leaving behind only a twisted grin as he looked down at him, pressed up against his chest.
Mariku’s dead eyes stared down at him, and while looking at his white blonde hair, he felt a laugh rise up in his chest. How had he been so stupid? Ryou, being anything other than the weak host of Bakura… Hah. Mariku laughed suddenly out loud at the thought, making Ryou glance questioningly up at him. Honestly, to think that he had gotten worried over what Ryou had said. Laughing harder, he threw his head back and let his laughs make his shoulders shake with the effort. He was going to cut his arm off! Like hell! Ryou was just bluffing, and he couldn’t believe he had fallen for it!
“You’re right, Ryou,” he said, calming down a bit, “you’re not just quiet and meek; You’re also funny as hell!”
Ryou looked up at him and frowned, but he didn’t appear very angry, which was a bit odd. Or maybe, it was because of that smug look that was still plastered on his face. “Am I really? Tell me how, I mean, I’d love to know.”
“Don’t you play smart with me.” Mariku growled, coming off of his high of laughing. He hated being talked to like a child. But his face lost its angry expression when he remembered that this person was of no threat to him. “…But to have me fall for an act like that…bravo. The thought is hilarious. Now untie me, and maybe I’ll spare your life. I can’t honestly believe that you’d thought that you’d get away with such a trick like that without being punished.” Mariku smirked, gently letting the nervous flutters in his chest ease away. He was glad for their absence, and what all they represented. Really, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions so fast. Amputation. Yeah, right. But, even still, there was still something that remained in his chest that kept him wary, remembering the way that Ryou had…kissed him.
“You’re going to punish me, hmm?” Ryou grinned and tilted his head to the side, rubbing his hands against his chest. “I’ll be interested to see how far you’ll get with that.”
“I swear to whatever god that’s up there, that if you don’t stop this right now, I really will fucking kill you.” Mariku growled and bared his teeth, bucking up against Ryou’s body, trying to get him off of him. Really, he didn’t like him so close. “And wipe that damn smile off of your face.”
Looking amused, Ryou tilted his head up at a haughty angle. “What, you’re growling at me, now? Do you think that makes me scared? You sound like an animal.” He paused for a moment, but shook his head, the smile plastered on his face never leaving. “And, but oh, Mariku. I have a lot to smile about. -…Would you like to hear?”
“Not particularly.” Mariku only bared his teeth more at Ryou’s remarks, trying to hide the flush that crept up his face when he commented on him being animalistic. Ah. Embarrassment. He had never felt that before… Mariku didn’t like it, it made him feel weak. But, emotions generally did that. He didn’t need them to plunge the world into darkness.
“Well you’d better start becoming more compliant,” Ryou’s voice took on that dark tone again, and Mariku wondered if he really was volatile. Shaking his head a little, he cleared it from his mind. Of course he wasn’t. It had just been an act. “Because right now, you’re at my mercy, and if I don’t like what you do, or say, I can make your life a living hell.” Slamming his hands down on the wall on either side of his head, Ryou emphasized his statement and leaned in close to his face so that their foreheads were almost touching. “And right now, I don’t exactly appreciate you calling me a liar or an actor. If I’m such a fucking actor, if I’m so fucking hilarious, I want to hear you applaud me.” Frowning deeply at him, Ryou’s frown turned into a glare. Coupled with the artificial fluorescent light in the background, his pale face took on a eerie glow.
Mariku was at a loss for words, feeling his mouth go a little dry. But, he didn’t understand. He wasn’t scared of Ryou, he knew that this was all a big joke, and that he was just taking this too far, but… the facts made him question that idea. What reason would Ryou Bakura have to do this to him, if it was just a joke? They had never once spoken, and he had only seen him through Malik’s eyes. And…he had killed Bakura, hadn’t he? That had been Ryou’s body, as he was his host. They had never met, and yet, Ryou knew him by name. Ryou had been quiet and kind, his face smiling in a cute way. There was nothing cute about this now as his arm was trapped in a tourniquet, Ryou claiming to prepare him for amputation. Maybe, it wasn’t a joke at all, and he had just used that idea to comfort himself. Or maybe, all he needed to do was kill this boy.
“Well maybe I would,” leaning in the rest of the way so that their foreheads did touch, Mariku’s voice was a hiss as he grit his teeth an narrowed his eyes, “if you’d get this fucking thing off of my arm-Ah!” Eyes widening suddenly, Mariku gasped and recoiled so fast away from him that his head hit with a ‘crack’ against the wall. A sudden searing pain pierced through his arm and shoulder where the tourniquet was positioned. Pain…he loved pain. It made him feel alive, reminded him that he was living. But that was when he willed it. Pain… he did not love pain when someone else was in control. Mariku did not feel so self assured now. Faintly, he heard Ryou’s harsh and mocking laugh.
“Why are you gasping, Mariku!? Are you in pain!? I thought you said that I was hilarious! So come on, I want to hear you laughing instead if I’m so damn funny! Its rude to scream at someone’s performance!” He hadn’t noticed Ryou reach over to the machine, but he felt it now as the tourniquet tightened to an unbearable pressure around the junction of his upper arm and shoulder. It was as if he could feel the tissue underneath being compressed into his muscle, the arteries and veins being trapped underneath it as they pressed against the bone, squeezing them closer and closer together until he feared that his flesh would be either forced out through the openings of the tourniquet or be crushed and deformed in the process. The pain was unlike anything he had felt before. Shadow games, illusions… they weren’t real, even if he could feel it. When Mai had cut his head off, he could feel the blade slice through his skin, tearing the muscle and mutilating his flesh as it went all the way through, cutting through his neck and spinal cord, but he had loved it. Because he knew that he would kill her in the end. It hadn’t hurt, then. It just gave him a rush of adrenaline. This was real, though, and Mariku wasn’t so sure if he would be able to still believe that Ryou was joking - and survive.
“F-Fuck, turn it off, turn it off!” His teeth ground together and his eyebrows furrowed in exertion as he fought off the urge to scream, kicking his feet against the floor in a desperate attempt to portray that he was serious. It wasn’t begging or pleading, it was persuading. Mariku would never beg. Ever.
“Then do you think I’m still lying?! Do you think that what I’m doing to you is just a big joke!?” He couldn’t even feel Ryou anymore, or the pain in his head when he had jerked back, through the haze of agony in his arm. Was Ryou still straddling him anymore?
“N-No! Just stop it, stop it! You’re serious, it’s not a joke!” Mariku didn’t actually know if he believed that or not, he just wanted the pain to go away.
“That doesn’t sound quite sincere enough.” Ryou’s words were sadistic as he felt his hands in his hair once again. “But in favor of having you not pass out so early, I’ll ease up a little.”
Grinding his teeth together in one last final effort to not scream, Mariku almost didn’t comprehend it when Ryou reached over to his left once again and turned the knobs back to their original position. The pain left him numb to any feeling (almost exactly like the rod had), and Mariku’s back stiffened up against the wall. He felt the pressure slowly let up on his arm to the point it had been originally, and Mariku let his head fall back, breathing deeply, his eyes closed. He could feel his breaths come in quickly, yet they were labored, and once or twice he coughed when the air didn’t enter his lungs correctly. Mariku felt weak, and he couldn’t stand it. Ryou had hardly even done anything and yet this is how he reacted? Like he had just been brutally abused? How had the pain spread so quickly if it was just in his arm? It was…because he was human. He was human, and he could die. His life could be lost so easily, and there would be no way back. He was not like Yami Yuugi. He was not like Yami Bakura. If he died, he would never come back.
“It’d be better if you calmed your heart rate. Having your heart beat so fast will just increase blood flow through your body, which I’m sure you won’t like.” Ryou’s voice was harsh, and it cut sharply through his mind, making his head hurt with every syllable.
Clenching his teeth together, Mariku listened to what Ryou had said. It took concentration to keep his breaths coming steady and not raggedly. With his eyes closed, it made him feel a little bit better, not really feeling in the mood to look at Ryou’s horrible, mockingly young face. He was such a tormentor, kept damn straight on having the bit of sanity that he had to call his own crushed beneath his every glancing look. Keeping his mouth shut, Mariku breathed through his nose and tried not to concentrate on where Ryou’s hands wandered on him. Which was strange. His body was not fascinating. To him, to Mariku himself, his body was his ultimate prize for winning over Malik’s mind. But what reason would there be for Ryou to touch him? They were both male, the same age; he was nothing special to Ryou.
“It still hurts.” Trying to have his voice sound apathetic as possible towards the pain, Mariku would not give Ryou the satisfaction of admitting that the grip of the tourniquet still hurt him. But he did want the thing off of him so that, of course, he could strangle and kill him, so Mariku would sink down to admitting his discomfort. Maybe Ryou would take it off if he talked calmly enough.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like pain?” Ryou’s tone was again the one of his usual quiet self, and it took him a while to reply, still seeming fascinated by running his hands over his chest. “No, you love pain. So what reason would you have to want it gone? I know that you felt pleasure when I hurt you, and please, if it’s pleasurable at all, feel free to vocalize it and not hold back.” His voice was sickeningly sweet as he mocked him with a smile.
Frowning at him as Ryou shifted to sit upon his lap so that they were directly eye level, Mariku narrowed his eyes in hatred, and in confusion. “I never said that-”
“You did, Mariku. You told Bakura all about it, you fucking masochist, pervert.”
“How-?” It was only confusion that he felt now as his mind tried to work over what Ryou had said. How had Ryou witnessed his duel with Bakura and Malik when he had not been there? Nothing with Ryou ever made sense anymore. He chose to ignore the ‘pervert’ comment for the time being. It was just another tick on the list of reasons he would have to kill him.
“Through our mind link.” Ryou gave his twisted grin and tapped his head with one finger to emphasize his point. “You have one with Malik, too, but I suppose it wouldn’t be the same as the one between me and my yami. After all, you are Malik, the part of Malik who hates the world and all that it’s done to him, a split personality created to help you deal with your initiation. But still, you are Malik.” He paused for a second, seeming to think over his words, and Mariku too, did the same. It was all true, what Ryou had said. Too much true that Mariku didn’t want to think about it, and never had. It was too hard, and it hurt. “I’m sure that you can find the part of you that was the old Malik and speak to him as I do with Bakura. Try it, Mariku. It won’t hurt anything.”
Ryou’s words were beginning to bring up unwanted thoughts, the ones that he had tried desperately to hide beneath hatred ever since he had created this split personality. He was not ready to deal with the idea that he was one person, that everything he had done was nobody’s fault but his own, that he had created this demon called Mariku, himself. The thoughts made his mind real with confusion and fear. Fear. A new feeling; he never wanted to experience it again. With thinking of his psyche, the part of himself that was Malik began to resurface, and Mariku tried desperately to shove him back into the corner of his mind, scared of having him replace himself in their mind and to go back to the dark, relinquishing the hold and control over their body. It was his own personal battle as he sat restrained and hurting in Ryou’s white hell.
“I can’t. Fuck it, I can’t. I won’t.” Fearing his own fear, Mariku was afraid when he heard his voice waver a bit, again afraid of having the control of being strong and unbreakable being taken from him.
“Do it!” Ryou was angry at his words, when he refused to obey his command. Eyes glinting with the now new look of insanity, Ryou hissed his threat. “You do it,” his voice was a whisper, and Mariku strained to hear it “and I don’t turn the pressure all the way up. You don’t do it, and I’ll say ‘fuck it’ to the damn LOP, and your suffering will be multiplied ten times worse when it comes time for me to rid you of your arm. A first of many lessons: you will learn to do what I say.” Narrowing his eyes at him as he stared hard at him, his eyes did not leave his own until Mariku unwillingly gulped, still shaken from his thoughts of accepting that he and Malik were the same. It both amazed and angered him that Ryou could make him so horribly confused and…scared. He hated him for making him confront his own humanity.
Again trying to hide his shaken expression, Mariku wore the one of apathy as he closed his eyes again. Maybe what Ryou said was true, and it wouldn’t hurt him to at least try to contact Malik. He was in the mood to use him as a scapegoat for his hatred, anyway.
Concentrating on trying to will him to appear, Mariku growled in frustration when he heard nothing. “It doesn’t work.”
“Whenever I speak to him, it comes naturally, like he’s standing in my mind right next to me. It’ll come if you try hard enough. Don’t force yourself to concentrate, just relax.” Mariku found it unnerving how Ryou’s could be yelling and making threats of amputation one minute, and be soft and sweet the next. But unnerving was too soft of a word than what he felt when Ryou stroked his skin gently then. Was he gentle, or was he not?
He listened to Ryou’s words, telling himself that maybe, he needed to try and speak to the part of him that was Malik. Making himself forcefully relax, his face let up from his previously frustrated expression. His mind was blank, and he felt a bit ridiculous, trying to contact Malik when he knew that nobody would answer. They sat quietly for a while, the only noise the soft whirring of the machine next to him, and Mariku dully noted a sort of heavy feeling in the back of his mind. It was a mass of space in his head, and he could almost feel its physical weight as it grew, and with it, grew a soft sound of static. Frowning at the noise, Mariku gasped as a sharp pain was felt in his mind, and with it, came memories. They flashed against his subconscious, each one resurfacing feelings he had never had wanted to feel again. Memories of his imprisonment in hell, in the back of Malik’s mind, where he watched silently as Malik suffered and he was unseen. They were the terrible memories that he had lived through, the ones where he begged to die, where he begged Malik to recognize him, where he slowly grew and learned to live off of hatred.
Bombarded with feelings, Mariku let go of a quick breath when everything went suddenly silent and his mind was plunged into numbness. Faintly, he could feel small tremors where his hand would tap against the floor quickly from shock of what he had been forced to remember. There were so many feelings now as he recovered from his onslaught of memories. Fear, anger, loneliness, sadness, hatred, he remembered feeling them all, but they were so foreign, the only emotion Mariku had hung onto being hate as he made the feeling his own, his way of living life. But he felt them all again now, and he remembered. He remembered the horrible, aching loneliness of his dark imprisonment, remembered the way that his creator, Malik, himself, did not even recognize his existence. The emotions were multitudes worse now as he relived them, and Mariku could not cope. Like an addict, ending those feelings had been the hardest thing he had ever done, being born, and reliving them again was all too easy. It hurt. Mariku ached with the reminder that he was human. Malik, it must have been Malik who did this to him, who made him remember his childhood. Malik was getting revenge for him taking control of their body. Damn him… would he ever be rid of his weak side?
“I can’t hear anything.” Struggling to keep up the normal, flat tone of his voice, Mariku voiced what both he and Ryou knew.
“You must have killed him. To not be able to feel the other half of yourself-… you’re a murderer.” Ryou’s words were harsh, and they played upon an idea that Mariku was very familiar with.
Death.
He had always known of death. Death was his fickle lover who he played with promiscuously. It had been their father first, when he had first felt the adrenaline of killing, of freedom, of revenge. He had seen it, mused upon it, lived it. After all, Mariku had never truly been alive before only such a short time ago. He was only a shadow, a fleeting thought in the back of their mind. He had been dead. And he had been prepared to kill Rishid, too, and Mariku growled inwardly at the reminder of who had stopped him. Mai, she would be dead soon, and Mariku felt himself smirk a little at the thought that he would be her murderer in due time. And Malik. For so long he had wanted to be rid of him, to kill him, and yet, he couldn’t, and he even if he could physically, he…didn’t think he could do it. It would be heresy to kill the original part of himself, his creator. Mariku wanted acceptance.
But now, death seemed like an untouchable thing, a enigmatic thing. It was no longer so welcome in his mind. Ah, another feeling; the feeling of being lost. Without living close to death, what did he have? Mariku was human, Mariku was nothing, and he could be killed easily. Ryou, Ryou had been the one to make him see this, and it scared him. He was not a god and he could die just as easily as he could kill. He was not immune from death, him nor Malik.
“-Or he cut ties from you. Poor Mariku, all alone. No one wants you. Nobody ever wanted you.”
He paused at the thought, blinking his eyes open to look at Ryou as he spoke to him, confused when his expression felt not cold and angry, but…despondent. Because…it was true, and he knew it. He had always known it.
“Your father didn’t want you, he hated you. Malik didn’t want you, he hates you with everything that he has. You ruined his life, after all. He wants nothing more to have you dead, that is, of course, if he’s still alive and you haven’t killed him yet.” Ryou smiled as he mused over this, and Mariku felt the familiar feeling of hatred, and it was a comforting thing. He hated him. Hate. But a part of him listened to his words and realized them for the truth. Could he hate Ryou for something that was not his fault? …Yes, he could. He could hate whoever he wanted! But if that was true, why did the feeling of sadness not leave him now? It had left him so long ago, but with remembering his childhood, it stayed, and would not leave. Ryou’s words made it grow. “You don’t even want yourself, Malik. You created the part of you, Mariku, to rid you of yourself, to take over so that you never had to live again. That’s it, isn’t it? You hate yourself. Even when you created Mariku, you hated him. You tell yourself that you hate Mariku for killing your father, but you know that’s not the real reason. You hate him for doing what you could not, for being the you that you could not be, and so you shunned yourself, Mariku. You are Malik, you are Mariku, and you hate yourself.” His eyes narrowed in a fake softness, leaning in closer to him so that their skin touched, separated only by layers of clothes. And Mariku again was confronted with the very facts of his being. These were things that he could not deal with. Malik didn’t want to accept himself.
Wrapping one arm around him, Ryou held him tight against his chest, his other hand groping his chest and thighs and anywhere he could reach. Molestation. His hands were not wanted, his touches were not consensual; just as he touched him and his body responded, Ryou’s words were shaping his mind into what he wanted it as. Weak. “But I want you, Malik, Mariku. I think you’re beautiful. With me, you’re wanted. You are needed with me, and I plan on showing you this to my fullest extent. But you will never be loved. Love is not for a thing like you. I am not here to love you, but I want you more then anything else I have ever laid my eyes on. You are my prize, my grand token as I become god over the world with the sennen items. You were competition, Mariku, with your ambitions to rule over the world, and I couldn’t have you jeopardizing my goals.
“But I promise that when the world is mine, you will be able to taste that power. I’m going to keep you, I won’t let you die. You’ll be my pet, wanted, but not loved. It’s you who believes that emotions are weak, and if I gave into them, well…” Ryou lowered his head to the side and laughed lightly, glancing up to him with his damned eyes and dark expression, small smile accenting his now believable insanity. Mariku was not so sure that this was a joke anymore, “I believe that you would be the one to do me in at the end.” Eyes glinting with a knowledge that went beyond his understanding, Mariku was once again surprised as Ryou held the back of his neck, kissing him.
It wasn’t harsh like the other had been, but more soft, gentle, contradicting the words that he had just spoken. Ryou’s kiss mimicked the way that he had said his life would be like, a pet, his pet. His lips were soft against his own, and there wasn’t even a flick of his tongue against them. And this time, he kissed back, even if it was just as softly. There was a sort of desperation in the back of his mind that said to cling to this affection that Ryou was giving to him. After all, nobody had ever touched him so kindly as he was now, and he ached for his touch as he ran his hands down his back. But his words were not reflected over. Mariku knew that it was all a joke. And if it wasn’t-
“Maybe I’m already fucked,” Ryou’s voice was breathy now as he drew away, speaking close to his ear as he rested his head on his shoulder, “because I love your body already.” He paused for a while as Mariku was left to experience the feeling of disgust; he had kissed him back.
“Do you feel this?” Ryou was excited now as he spoke.
“No.” Mariku was relieved when his voice came out cold, hoping that his moment of weakness was leaving.
Ryou’s face was in front of him now as he grinned at his reply, the grin that he gave when he spoke of amputation. “For the past two minutes, your arm has been under severe pressure, and yet, you have felt nothing. You’re ready for what I’ve brought you here for. I think it’s time that you’re ready to be rid of that arm.”
There was no reason to be horrified of Ryou’s words. After all, you laughed at a joke.
As a pimp, the ‘go’ button is your bitch. Feel free to click it aaaaall you want. Yes, just like that, baby.