Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh, nor do I own the concept of Yami no Malik defeating Yami no Yuugi in the final duel. I read too many Yami no Malik fanfics in the last few days, and he's been lurking around in my mind. Needless to say, I want him out, so I wrote this. I don't know if I'll bother continuing it or not. Read and review!

Author's Note: I've gone back and revised this chapter, since I just wasn't all that happy with it. Parts were too redundant or just plain silly, and it was painfully obvious that it was meant to be a one-shot. Hopefully I've smoothed things out a bit.

The Darkness was closing in. Shizuka couldn't breathe. She pressed herself tighter against the wall, amber eyes trained on the locked door leading out into the hallway. The Battle Ship was silent without even the gentle hum of electronics and machinery to keep her company. The ship was nothing but an empty shell.

Dead. They were all dead. Jounouchi had been literally torn from her arms and broken like a doll right before her eyes. Kaiba's slender body had been pitched off the side of the tower once the Darkness had finished with him, falling and falling and falling, his screams trailing off into the inky blackness of night. Otogi had pushed her into motion, coaxing her to run as far away as she could, and as she turned the corner, she could hear his agony.

Yuugi had been the first to go, screaming as he was consumed by darkness, falling before the might of Ra, flames licking at his body. His cries still echoed in her mind, mirroring Otogi's and Jounouchi's to form a gruesome cacophony of sound and emotion, and she could not escape the final terrified look Yuugi's eyes had shone with as his body was destroyed. It was almost too much, just knowing that Yuugi – who had seemed almost unbeatable – was gone. Combined with the loss of her brother, Shizuka knew sheer adrenaline fueled by fear was the only thing that kept her going.

She didn't know exactly what had happened to the others. Otogi had made sure she wasn't around to watch. Somehow she knew, deep in her heart, that they were all dead, and that he was coming for her now. She had fled the tower, rushing back to the blimp and its promised safety – if there was anywhere safe on the entire island. However, the ship had been abandoned, and she hadn't even been able to find Isis or Rishid anywhere, and that was when she'd discovered Mai's fate. The blonde's unconscious body shriveled up like an empty husk, her hair turning dry and brittle and falling to the floor strand by strand until there was almost nothing left of the beautiful duelist.

She was completely alone on the ship, unable to work the radios and not knowing how to fly the thing to the mainland. The empty corridors seemed to laugh at her. No one was left to save her, to pick up the frail little princess and carry her to safety, to kiss away her tears and tell her it had all been a nightmare.

She didn't know why he had left her for last, hunting down her friends one by one before finally turning his attention to her. He had watched her often, his emotionless eyes alight with a terrible something that frightened her to her core. Yuugi and Jounouchi had sworn to protect her, to keep the madman away from her.

Her knights had fallen in battle.

She was alone, so alone, and the feeling of solitude and helplessness choked her, left her lying motionless against the wall, watching, waiting. She knew she was waiting to die like everyone else despite the fact that she hadn't seen them all die. If there was anything she'd learned from the movies, it was that without a body, one could never write off a character as really dead. But then, this wasn't a movie, and a part of her knew they had met a horrible fate, and she was next. Her final moments would be spent huddled against a wall, trembling, crying, wishing that more had been said so she didn't have this awful feeling of regret pressing upon her almost as heavily as the fear.

She had never told him how she felt, and now she never would. So many things were left unsaid, but that pressed upon her the hardest. Her mother had frequently told her to live every day as if it would be her last, and even in light of her surgery and potential blindness, she had laughed that idea away. She was young; what could possibly happen? Now she wished she had listened, and told him everything.

Laughter echoed in the hallways, breaking into her room and bouncing around in her skull, invading every sense, though it was not evident where the sound was coming from. She stiffened, eyes darting to and fro frantically, her breath quickening, hands clutching at the wall behind her as if its cool surface could save her.

He was close. She could almost feel his presence approaching slowly, languidly, a predator toying with his prey.

She tore her eyes away from the door, gaze falling to her blood-splattered shirt. Blood; she was covered in it. It coated her like a sick shroud, staining her clothes and her skin and her hair, and in the back of her mind she absently wondered if it would ever wash out. She didn't even know who it belonged to.

She lifted her trembling hands in front of her face, taking in the sticky liquid drying beneath her nails, slipping into the minute cracks in her skin. The trembling increased as she heard screams in her mind, the remembered and imagined screams of her friends and her brother in their final tortured moments. Portions were still wet, gleaming in the faint light and giving off a faintly metallic odor. Before she could catch herself she let out a wail, agonized and pitiful, loud enough to pierce the silence like a blade.

The light in her room flickered and went out.

She clapped her hands over her mouth, smearing the blood on her pale skin, staring at the door in horror. Had he heard?

The light flickered again and gave out, bathing the room in darkness. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing rapid and harsh. She licked her dry lips as her eyes slowly, so slowly, adjusted to the darkness, ears straining to pick up sound. She didn't notice the inky shadow spreading through the room, completely coating the floor and roiling anxiously.

Strong, warm arms slipped around her waist from behind, from the wall, the arms came right through the wall, and she shrieked. She pulled away and managed to stagger a few feet but the grip never loosened, and she soon felt a warm body press against her tightly, holding her still. A scream tore from her throat and was answered by a deep, husky chuckle.

"Found you," a voice breathed in her ear. One hand trailed from her waist to the bottom of her shirt, slipping under, fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. Something hard and cool pressed against her hip; the Sennen Rod. "Poor little Shizuka, all alone…"

"D-don't touch me," she stammered, too frightened to struggle.

He laughed, fingers dancing along her belly and rising. The other hand shifted, the pressure against her hip lifting, and something sharp pressed against her skin hard enough to draw blood. The blade from the Rod moved as his free hand moved, cutting a line in her skin and slicing clean through the fabric of her shirt. The pieces fell to either side, and she felt rather than heard him give a low moan.

His hand rose to her chest, stroking, caressing, the sting of the cut dancing down the center. Her mind felt muddled, almost as if he'd stuffed it full of wool, thoughts sluggish, panic suppressed. Something attempted to smother her fear, whisper reassuring little nothings, promising that if she just submitted, everything would be all right. All she had to do was close her eyes, and later she would wake up in Mai's room, curled up in the uncomfortable chair, rubbing the nightmare from her eyes.

He chuckled, and the blade dug in.

The illusion shattered. Pain exploded in her brain as she screamed, trying desperately to get away, thrashing in his grip and crying and yelling and pleading for him to stop, for the pain to stop; he only laughed in response. She could feel her blood spill from her slender body, trail down her shorts and fall to the floor, creating a small puddle at their feet. A tangy scent reached her nose and she wailed louder, teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After what felt like an eternity the pain vanished, leaving her whole and unblemished and panting. Faint whispers of the pain danced in her memory, just at the edge of her awareness, a phantom pain like something experienced long ago. Weak, she collapsed against him, and only his strong grip held her up. Though blood slicked her skin, there were no visible wounds on her.

"Onii-chan," she whimpered, praying for the dead to come and save her. When she recalled that he couldn't save her, no one could, she slumped further, shaking her head.

"Giving up so soon?" he purred, running his tongue along her neck. He groaned at the taste of her blood, so fresh and sweet, the liquid trapped beneath her skin begging for release. "The game's not over yet, little Shizuka. I'm not finished playing." Sharp teeth dug into her flesh, and she cried.

"The game will never be over."