Ahh damnit! There he goes again! Will this dude ever stop farting! Curse the Gods for making me suffer through his gas… Ugh… I can't even think properly…
Bakura remembered when he and Rianne were just children, playing by the side of the Nile river.
Bakura had just tripped on a rock and scraped his knee, tearing his sandal as well.
He clutched his knee, and doubled over in pain.
Rianne came running over from nowhere it seemed – he wasn't paying much attention – and kneeled down in front of him. "What happened?"
"I tripped on a stupid rock, that's what!"
"Are you okay?"
"Do I look okay to you?" he screeched.
The wound was hardly more than a scratch, for all the fuss he was making.
Rianne tucked her scarlet hair behind her ear, bent over a little ways, and kissed his scratched knee.
"There; feel better?"
"A little," he mumbled, though he was clearly comforted. Rianne just grinned and moved on to his sandal, re-threading the pieces together with ease, and handing it back to him.
"Thanks…" he grumbled under his breath. Though he would never admit it, he thought the gesture was rather sweet.
She just smiled again, and plopped down beside him, picking at her toes.
In an instant it seemed, she was sixteen again, and chained against the wall in a bloody heap, crying out in pain.
Bakura jolted awake with a start, covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily, restrained from further movement by his owns chains. He had hardly slept the entire night, and when he did, similar nightmares tortured his mind, always ending the same way; Rianne was being tortured in some way or another, and he could do nothing to help her. All of the worst possibilities of what the pharaoh could be doing to her flew before his eyes, and he shook his head to rid himself of the images.
He took a deep breath, and leaned against the cold wall in his cramped cell, twisting his wrists in the even colder chains in an attempt to re-establish circulation.
An incessant rat nibbled at his boot. He shoved it brutally, and it tumbled across the dirt floor and rammed into the guard's leg, causing him to shift in his sleep, and emit yet another fart that echoed off of the stone walls.
Ahh great, he thought, as if the air wasn't stale enough!
The rat merely got up, shook its head, and started trotting towards Bakura again.
What is it with this mangy thing and my boot! Damn!
Being a dungeon, naturally there would be rats, -among other unwanted parasites- but Bakura could swear that this rat in particular was screwed up mentally.
He heard a scuff, and looked up as a tall figure with sandy blonde hair, and pale lavender eyes appeared in front of his cell and smirked down at him.
"Took you long enough," Bakura grumbled.
"Are we going to do this or not?" the figure asked bluntly.
Bakura's bad mood and lack of sleep got the better of him as he snapped, "Where is she?"
"Rianne," he murmured with a growl.
"How am I supposed to know, when I just got here?"
Bakura merely glared at him.
"Alright, I'll go look for her." The figure made to walk off, but was stopped by his angry partner.
"Malik, get back here right now, and get me the hell out of here!"
"Fine, fine, but it's just so much fun to watch you squirm for once." He casually snatched the key from the heavily sleeping and farting guard, and slowly inserted it into the lock in a tantalizing manner, much to Bakura's annoyance.
"Would you hurry up already?"
"Not if you keep talking that loud."
Bakura continued glaring at him, and mumbled curses under his breath.
"So what's the deal with your girl anyway?" Malik asked, swinging the gate open as he spoke, and wiggling the key in the lock of Bakura's chains.
"Huh? What girl?"
"Rianne you idiot. Why isn't she here with you?"
"Oh, the pharaoh wanted her in his bedchamber. I can't imagine just what he would want her in there for." Bakura whispered sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Malik frowned. "Ah crap."
"My thoughts exactly."
"Well, yes, that too…" Holding up a small piece of the former-key, Malik said, "It broke."