Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ That Devil ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

“Wow…” the breathless word drifted in the air with amazement. Alone the emotions stood, and alone the teen stood. He stared with coffee eyes into the horizon, gazing at the canvas painted with beautiful shades and tints of orange and gold. Splashes of red were rubbed in, fading into a light pink. The half circle that was the bright orange sun fell from the sky slowly, the darker part of the painting behind him.

 

The wind blew away stray locks of sandy-blond hair from his face, and his lips parted into an awed gasp. As the sun began to descend lower and lower and the moon ascend higher and higher, he couldn't help but wish he was with somebody. His darling, treasured sister came to mind, but she was with their mother. His would-be girlfriend strode in after her, but she had given up on getting him after his confession. Sighing, he sat on the grass, leaning back on his hands.

 

I' would be nice t' `ave some on' `ere t' talk ta... he thought, sighing again, lowering himself to lie on his back. He stared up, waiting for the darkness to take over. His eyes closed, deciding to wait more comfortingly. Slowly, he drifted off into a sweet slumber, every so often turning to a different position. He didn't know that there was already a Darkness looming over him, grinning madly at his vulnerable form.

 

~~~~~~

 

“Little Jounouuuuuuchiiiii!” a voice called tauntingly. Jou blinked, wondering who the voice belonged to. He couldn't immediately place who it was, only that it felt like a memory. A scary one, at that. He tried to sit up, but cold shackles bound his wrists and neck, holding him down to the ground.

 

“Come out and pllaaaaaaaaaay!”

 

Jou's lips parted, gasping tiredly at the darkness that surrounded him. Everything was pitch-black, no light anywhere in sight or in mind. He turned his head to the right then the left, searching for the owner of the voice, hearing the chains shift beneath him.

 

“Where aaaaaaaaaaaare yooooooou?”

 

Jou strained out his answer.

 

“'Ere…”

 

Why had he answered? Was he really that desperate for a companion in this darkness? What was it about the voice that attracted him so, yet made him quiver and shake like a brittle leaf?

 

“Oh, chained up, I see, Little Jounouchi?” the voice observed mockingly. Jou nodded, not sure why he was still answering to the wickedly spoken words. There was no sign of life as far as he could conclude, but the voice did seem to near.

 

“Right...'ere...” Jou choked, hitting himself mentally for wanting the torturer to come closer to him. Staring straight up with wide-open eyes, not seeing anything but black, he could...feel someone bend over him, peering with wonder down at him.

 

“Do you want to be let free, Inu-chan?” the dark voice chaffed. Jou growled with annoyance.

 

“I ain't no dog.” he spoke sternly. A feeling of regret came over him at the words, as if he were a slave who had disobeyed his master. And like that slave, he—somehow—knew that he would be punished for it.

 

“And you dare argue against me, Jounouchi?” the voice asked daringly. Jou sensed someone kneel next to him, and could feel sharp eyes carving into his skin.

 

“No. I ain't arguing, I'm tellin' ya that I ain't no dog!” he declared with anger in his tone, struggling against the shackles. He would've been kicking the guy's ass if he wasn't chained down...

 

“Stubborn, aren't you?” the voice asked, a demonic smile creeping upon unseen lips. How Jou knew the being was smiling, he had no idea.

 

“Ya bet I'm stubborn!”

 

“I wish not to wager bets, Jounouchi, but for you to merely be a good dog and stay still...” the voice said emotionlessly, trailing off. Jou, with a now-realized, newfound sixth sense, felt the entity move down closer, a part of its body hovering above his face. A steady, lukewarm breath fanned over him, and he deducted that a face was looming above his own.

 

“I ain't no—”

 

“Shut up, mutt.”

 

And then, he was silenced. By what, he had no clue. He couldn't feel anything anymore, but something in his mind made him think that there was pressure on his mouth; his lips, to be more precise. He could no longer feel the calm sighs against his skin, or the strands of his own hair on his forehead. He could no longer use his “sixth sense” to spiritually reach for the being kneeling beside him.

 

Nor could he feel the beat of his own heart within his own chest.