--- New fic for ya, this is the fic for Zoo-chan's contest. Why are they still letting you write? Because I am not dead yet. Ryou is still mad at me because I have been incredibly mean to him lately. I would write about Seto but then Mikari would kill, and Malik's next on my list.
I come up for the idea for this story one morning when I was reading the dictionary and came across all the 'blood' words. Interesting, yeah.
Warnings: Violence, blood, abuse, and attempted suicide
Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh! Or the Ryou's poem at the end.---
By: Laria Kaiba
A short gust of wind rustled the leaves out side the house of Ryou Bakura. The house itself was dark and quiet. For right now, Ryou Bakura was not home. He had offered to help his friend, Yugi Muto, rake leaves. Even so, the house was not completely empty.
Dark clouds covered the sky as the ancient spirit of the Millennium Ring slumped down on the couch. He had been waiting for two hours for his mortal counterpart to get home, two hours too long. Ryou knew all too well that he was supposed to come home right after school, no exceptions.
It was not the first time Ryou disobeyed the spirit. Of course he, like everyone, no matter how perfect they are, slip-up. Usually when that happens the spirit would take control and put the boy back on the right path.
The spirit was not going to do that this time. It had been a while since the boy had been allowed some freedom. It was going to cost him though, dearly. The spirit grinned viscously at that thought. He loved that about his lighter half. The fact that he would disobey him, even though he knew the torture he would go though once the spirit got his hands on him.
You have to come home some time...
The spirit shot though the link he shared with Ryou. The spirit chuckled as he felt the light shiver in fear though the link. Every minute that went by just adds to the mortal's pain, and the dark spirit had no problem with it.
The spirit loved nothing more then to see Ryou in anguish. He loved it even more if he was the one that caused it. Nothing could be more thrilling then seeing that innocent light cowering before him. It gave him a strong surge of power, even if Ryou was such a weakling.
However, that was not the only reason for hurting the light; oh, no. the spirit had a much better reason for his torment. He was slowly breaking the boy down, spiritually and mentally. He was hoping to gain some physical mentality from the mortal. Nevertheless, Ryou was still as weak as ever.
The spirit was trying to break the boy. He would have done so by now, but no one said he could not have fun in the process. Nevertheless, that was beside the point, the point was that if the boy was broken, soulless, heartless, he'd be so much easier to manipulate, without having to waste energy taking control of him. Only then would he be able to gain the true power he desired.
The dark spirit looked down at the knife in his hand. He stared at into his own cold eyes in the reflection. Oh how it reminded him of the countless times he had drawn blood from Ryou. That had to be his favorite part about the mortal boy, his blood.
The fact that no matter how small the cut is it will still draw blood. The way it just flows evenly from that pale skin of his, staining everything it touches red. However, the most wonderful part of it had to be the taste. It had the same coppery taste that other blood has, but Ryou's had a certain sweetness to it.
The spirit grinned sadistically as he licked the cold metal of the knife. He could not wait for the light to get home.
The spirit looked up from the knife as he heard foot steps outside on the porch. He got up and went over to the door, opening it to reveal a very terrified looking Ryou.
"Baku-sama!" he squeaked.
"Why weren't you home after school, boy?" the spirit glowered.
"You see I..." the light began but we interrupted.
"Do you not know the rules?"
"I do but..." the spirit interrupted him again.
"You do? Then you should have been home" the spirit grabbed the boy by his shirt collar and held him off the ground. "No exceptions!"
"I... I..." was all Ryou could choke out. The spirit growled and dropped the light on the porch.
"Gomen nasai Baku-sama." Ryou said quietly not looking up at his dark counterpart.
"Sorry!" the spirit yelled. He grabbed the mortal by his hair and threw him into the house. Ryou shrieked with pain as he skidded a crossed the carpet inside the house. He heard the door slam and he looked up at the spirit he shared his body with. The spirit who had a death glare right on him. "You're not sorry."
Ryou continued to watch the spirit as he slowly advanced on him. Well actually, he was watching the knife in his hands.
"I know you are far from sorry," the spirit disdained, "you're glad I finally let you... 'Hang out'. What, did you think I have changed? That I am a nice, protective Yami now. Did you think I would let you have some freedom... without a cost?" A deadly silence fell over the room. The spirit kneeled down so that he was face to face with the light. He placed the knife under the left side of his face. He put pressure on it so Ryou would look up at him. The spirit looked into Ryou's frightened eyes.
"Oh how wrong you were" the spirit said barely above a whisper. He pressed the blade harder into Ryou's skin. Ryou snapped.
"NO!" Ryou cried thrusting the spirit back on the floor. He ripped the knife out of the spirit's hand. Ryou pressed the knife to the spirit's throat and straddled his chest. He froze glaring down at the spirit underneath him. The spirit chuckled.
"Think you're going to kill me?" the spirit said, "think you can get rid of me?"
Ryou did not say anything. He just continued to glare.
"You can't," the spirit said grabbing the wrist that held the knife, "It's not in your character to kill someone. You are too nice, too innocent, too. Weak."
Ryou screamed again as the spirit tightened the grip on the wrist and spun them around so that his arm was at a painful angle behind Ryou's back and the knife was now to his throat.
"S-stop." Ryou whimpered.
"Oh, not so confident now, are we?" the spirit said, increasing the pressure on the light's arm, causing him to cry out some more. The spirit grinned as removed the knife from the light's throat and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the boys shoulder. Ryou began to struggle against the spirit. It did not work too well because every movement caused pain to shot though his arm.
Ryou whimpered as the spirit licked his shoulder before placing the cold blade to his skin. He slowly moved the knife down his arm, producing a long, deep cut. The spirit smirked evilly as he watched the blood flow from the wound and down the boys arm. He heard Ryou sob as he leaned forward to lick the wonderful blood from the perfected skin.
The spirit sat up and licked some of the blood off his lips. He laid his head on Ryou, enjoying his blood with sadistic pleasure. There was nothing better then that coppery-sweet taste. Some times the spirit wondered if he was addicted to the light's blood. Not that he cared. As long as he had it.
About an hour later, Ryou laid alone. His arm was sore, his eyes were red, and most of his pale skin was covered in dry blood. He slowly sat up. It was dark now in the house, none of the lights had been turned on. Ryou could still see well enough because of the streetlight just outside the window.
Ryou looked around. There were dark spots on the carpet beneath him from the blood. However, something else caught his eye. Reflecting the light from out side, lying on the floor, was the knife. Ryou slowly crawled over to the knife and picked it up. It was tinted with his blood. Ryou licked the blood off it and grinned at himself in the blade.
The spirit of the Ring, on the other hand, was in his soul room. It was not a room really; it was just where he resided inside his counterpart's mind. In addition, as all soul rooms do, it suited him perfectly. It was nothing but a dark void, like is heart. Cold like his soul, and empty, like the many years he had been trapped inside the Ring.
The spirit grinned as he felt a twinge of pain. The boy was up. Because of the link he shared with his lighter side, it allowed him to feel everything he felt. This included pain. The spirit loved pain, so feeling it while he tortured the boy made it more worthwhile.
There was another twinge of pain coming from... the spirit looked down at his wrist. He did not remember cutting the boy there. The spirit knew better, one wrong move and it would all be over. However, if he had not cut him there then why... the spirit gasped as he felt yet another twinge of pain, a cool blade was piercing the skin.
The spirit materialized out side his soul room and looked around. He was in the bathroom. Ryou was on the floor; knife in hand, blood dripping down his arm. The boy did not even realize the spirit was there. The spirit did not care how much he loved the light's blood and pain, this was bad. If Ryou succeeds in killing himself then the spirit would be trapped in the Ring again.
Ryou smiled at the blood that poured from his wrist and dripped down onto the cold tile below him. The spirit had never seen the innocent light like this before. Ryou placed the knife to his wrist again. The spirit could tell he was weak.
"Ryou!" the spirit hissed. The boy jumped and looked up at the spirit surprised. He had never heard the spirit call him by his name before.
"What the hell are you doing boy?" the spirit spat. Ryou continued to watch him.
"What does it look like?" Ryou said nonchalantly pressing the knife deeper into his wrist "I'm getting rid of you."
"Don't do it boy, I swear I'll..."
"You'll what!" Ryou yelled with what energy he had left, "What are you going to do to me! Are you going to cut me again! That sounds good to you does it not! Spill some more blood from the stupid mortal's body!"
The spirit watched as Ryou tried to get up but was to weak and just slumped back down again. The knife fell out of his hand and slid a crossed the floor. The spirit picked it up. Ryou looked up at him, tears in his eyes.
"Once again you seem to have lost that rebel in you now that I have the sharp pointy object." Ryou sniffed as the spirit continued, "Don't you realize boy? No matter what you do, you'll never get rid of me."
The spirit glowered at the light on the floor. He was shaking in fear as silent tears fell down his cheeks.
"Nothing can save you from me, Ryou. Nothing..."
"P-please God..." was all Ryou managed to say before slipping into unconsciousness.
The spirit stood by the light as he lay in his bed. He had cleaned the boy up and bandaged his cuts. He might not care for the boy, but he sure as hell did not want him to die. He still needed him.
The spirit scowled down at his counterpart. The light was becoming too troublesome. He decided he would have to break the boy now. After all, the light might think he had gone soft if he was to save his life every time he tried to kill himself. The spirit closed his eyes and was about to go back to his soul room when Ryou gave out a low moan.
The spirit looked down at him. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around, dazed. His chocolaty brown eyes fell on the spirit.
"Baku-sama?" Ryou questioned, "W-what happened?"
"What do you think happened?" the spirit scoffed, "You had to go and do something stupid and I had to save you."
"You-you saved me?"
"Yes, I saved you, and you should be thanking me on bended knee," the spirit narrowed his eyes, "But let me guess, you don't have the strength. I expected that from a weakling such as you."
And with that, the spirit went to his soul room. As soon as he got there though, he felt strange presences. There was something different... something had changed. He turned around and saw a door. He stared at it. What was it doing there? There had never been anything in his room, just like his life.
However, no, there it stood. The spirit walked around the door. That is all it was, a door. Then his thoughts of 'Where did it come from?' changed to 'Where does it go?'. He placed a hand on the golden doorknob. Taking a deep breath, and bracing himself for what ever lies beyond, he opened the door.
The spirit stepped over the threshold and found himself in a dark corridor. Both ways seemed to go on forever, or maybe that was just because it was dark. Before him stood another door, just like the one he had just come from, black with a golden doorknob.
This had to be the door to his lights soul room. Hm, this was interesting... he would finally get to see what was in the mind of his innocent little light. He opened the door to the room and was instantly blinded by a white light. Once he could see again he looked around the room.
The walls were pure white, much like everything else in the room. A desk sat by one of the walls. Neat piles of paper covered most it. In the far corner stood a bookshelf. It was almost completely full of books like Charlottes Web, Redwall, and Harry Potter. On the top shelf, there were little pictures of all Ryou's friends in gold frames. Hanging on the other wall was the Millennium Ring, polished and shining like new.
Because of all the white and gold everything seemed to blend, the only thing that stood out was a black mirror that hung on the far wall. All and all, nothing about the room surprised him about the light. However, the mirror was puzzling mostly because it was black against all the white.
The spirit walked into the room and stepped in front of the mirror. He saw his same cold features glaring back at him. He reached out to touch the mirror, but when he did, a black shadow fell over the room. All off a sudden, the spirit was caught in a whirlwind of dark and light. As fast as it had come, it stopped. The spirit opened his eyes and looked around.
The walls were now black and splattered with bloodstains. The mirror in front of him was broken. The bookshelf no longer had as many book on it, but the ones it did have had black covers and were written by some guy named Edger Allen Poe. The other books were on the floor. Pages ripped out along with the shattered remains of his friends' picture frames.
The desk was now cluttered with paper. The spirit walked over and picked up one of the pieces of paper it was a poem written in red ink. He scanned over it.
...Like the wind
It flies from my veins
As the crimson rose...
The spirit put the paper back and looked over at the Ring. It was still hanging on the wall. It was tarnished now; blood slowly trickled down the wall over it from a crack near the ceiling. The spirit smiled. The innocence the boy had shown was just a mask. On the inside, he was as dark and twisted as the spirit.
The spirit picked up a blank sheet of paper from the desk along with the red pen. He simply wrote 'Good, Ryou. Good...' and placed it on top so that the light would be able to find it. With that, he left the room to return to his own, still smiling and filled with a great sense of accomplishment.
---Yeah well that was my twisted little fic. I would like to thank the Webster Dictionary for giving her the idea for the story, Daren for proof reading her written copy and for a better poem for the end, and Sam for finding the one mistake no one else caught.
Do not forget to press that little button down there and send nice comments to psychotic and sadistic authoress---
Do not forget to press that little button down there and send nice comments to psychotic and sadistic authoress---