sigh Now I know that I should really, really be working on 'Challenge your dreams' but I am at a standstill with that one until I can get a hold of the movie. So you'll all have to practice patience for a long time to come before you can see any updates.
Until then, I am going to start working on some other stories. Have thousands of ideas, some of them I've already started working on. Actually working on maybe six different stories right now --'' Maybe not the best of ideas to be working on so many at one time, but I think I can manage. If I can't, well then there's….mayhem and chaos!
Now, enough yapping about unimportant stuff and let us get down to business!
Disclaimer: Have you ever looked up the word 'disclaimer' in a dictionary. If not then go do it at once. Then maybe you'll see why the word is here and that I don't own anything but the plot of this story.
Title: Possession of the Soul
Chapter: 1 – Living Hell
Authors Note: Another AU story. Vampires this time. And a note on them. The vampires in this story have a special neural toxin, a serum that keeps their prey paralyzed while they drink. The fangs are sort of hollow, like a needle, through which they inject the toxin. Read and you'll understand.
-- means change of scene of p.o.v.
'text' is someone's thoughts
"text" is talking
"text" is talking mind to mind or regular talking in a flashback
Warnings: Vampires, blood-drinking, child abuse (both physically and mentally), bad language, shounen-ai (possible yaoi), cruelty, blood and gore etc. (Sounds nasty don't it! But it's not as bad as I make it sound.)
Pairings: Obviously it's going to be YamixYugi. Thinking of some other yamixhikari pairings, haven't decided yet. Give me your opinion please.
Descriptions/Summary: A young boy lives with his abusive parents with no hope of escape. Until that one day when a stranger enters his life to change it forever. Having been drawn there by the boy's strange aura, the man kills the parents and takes the child away to a close and trusted friend of his. He leaves the boy in his and his family's care, promising to return one day in the future. Before he leaves, he marks the child as his own, a clear warning to any who wish him harm.
Now years later the young boy, Yugi, has grown up. And with the return of the stranger his life is turned upside down. With the introduction to the demon world, and a strange prophecy regarding him and the strongest of vampires, can he accept his place in destiny or will he fight the claim another has over his life?
A sickening crack echoed through the room as the small body was slammed into the wall and then crumbled to the floor in a heap, to weak and beaten to even think about trying to stand and fight back. The boy stayed still, mind dazed, and waited for the agonizing pain to begin. It was always the same. It was all he'd ever known in his seven years of life.
No matter how high he screamed, no matter how much he pleaded and begged on bare knees, no matter how many tears he shed, the pain would not stop.
It would never stop.
But that was okay.
Having grown up in the middle of it he was used to it. Never had he known another reality, was there even something other than pain? The mere thought alone seemed strange and alien, as if something made up by his mind in a dream. So were there really something else out there?
There must be.
He had seen the other kids. The neighbour's kids. Kids at the playground. How they played and laughed in the company of others. The looked so far away on the other side of the glass window he looked out of. Like in a different world. And maybe it was a different world out there, for they looked so strange and sounded so strange to his eyes and ears. They would scream in delight when their parents joined the small kids, chasing and tickling them, playing their games.
They screamed. That much he could understand. But it was a strange scream they made. Not like the ones he heard and made himself. His screams were full of pain, an emotion he could easily identify, having lived with it every day all his life. But these kids didn't scream in pain. Their screams were sparkling with something else. An emotion he didn't know and had never heard before. It was something so alien to him that he saw those kids as a completely different race than himself. A complete mystery.
That was why he used to sit in the window to listen to their screams, to maybe hope that someday he could understand the emotion shown in the sound and why it was so different from his own. He was drawn to it somehow. Drawn to get closer to that bubbling sound created by light voices. He didn't understand.
The only time he could understand why they screamed as they did, was when one would trip and scrape their knees and hands or hit their head on the swings. Then they would scream in pain. They would cry loud tears until one of the adults would pick them up and hush them, soothe their hurt with comforting words he couldn't hear from his place one the other side of the glass.
Another thing he didn't understand. Why would the kids want the adults to come? Grown-ups meant pain. They meant screaming and yelling, tears and bruises, scrapes and blood. But the adults on the other side of the window glass seemed different, so very different from the ones inside these, his walls. The parents of the hurt child would pick them up and hold them, hug them and soothe them until the child would smile again. They would smile, with strange emotions shining in the depths of their eyes.
The first time he had ever seen a smile like that it had hurt him. It had hurt in his chest, in his heart. And it brought tears to his eyes.
He had tried himself to smile, to imitate that unfamiliar expression. Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom he had tried, and tried and tried again. But all he had managed was some strange grimace that had brought even more tears to his eyes. So frustrated and sad over his failure he had shattered the mirror against the floor. And consequently earned himself another beating for that. So he never smiled, it only meant pain.
But he still watched the kids and their parents smile, through the dirty glass of the window in the living room. Everyday he would watch them when they played their games, longing to be out there, but knowing that it would never happen. For he was not allowed outside. And if he was to be a bad boy and disobey his parents by sneaking out, they would beat him again, and again into unconsciousness.
So he stayed inside and watched from the shadows. Watched them playing and laughing and smiling.
His own parents never smiled.
They never laughed.
Instead they would scream. Scream at each other, or scream at him. Always screaming. Never would they comfort him when the tears flowed down pale cheeks or when bad images would wake him in the middle of the night. Images in his sleep of darkness, blood and pain. In fact, the only time they ever touched him were when they were beating him, hurting him. Punishing him, as they said, for being a bad boy.
And he believed them.
They always told him how bad he was, and having never heard anything else, that was the only truth he knew. Even though he didn't understand what he did wrong, he must be doing something wrong for them to be saying so and being so angry with him.
A foot connected heavily with his side and pushed him into the wall again. Head swimming and with blurring sight he fought the urge to cry out or let the pent up tears out, knowing that it would only lead to more pain.
But it was hard. So very hard.
For some particular reason the pain was worse today. Today they were extra vicious in beating him. They were in a really bad mood. Usually it was quiet when they got home from work. The mood would be neutral. For once not full of anger and hatred electrifying the air. It was calm, or as calm as it could be, until it was time for dinner. Then it would start in an argument over anything and everything, often it concerned money or him, and the voices would just get louder and louder, increasing in volume and strength. Then the yelling would start. They would yell at each other until one would leave and lock themselves in the bedroom and the other would turn to him to deal out his punishment for just being there. Other times they would both turn on him. Those times were the worst. For then it would be twice the pain. And when the yelling started if he would try leaving inconspicuously they would get even angrier, calling him a coward who couldn't take what he deserved, and beat him even more often so much that he couldn't move for a few days time. He knew from experience having tried to do so before.
Today they had been yelling even before entering the house. He had heard them from outside and, even if the words were indistinguishable, the tone in which they were spoken, or yelled for that matter, held a crystal clear meaning to him. Enraged was almost too weak a word to use for a description.
Again the foot connected with his side, making his ribs ache even more when a crack was heard. A whimper escaped past his tightly guarded lips.
He had been unable to hide, however much he wanted to, knowing that they would get really mad at him if he wasn't waiting for them at the door when they entered. So as soon as he heard them he had rushed to the door and got into the all too familiar position of standing with his head bowed and hands tightly clasped behind his back, showing his submission. And then he would wait. But today was one day he wished he hadn't obeyed his parents. Today he wished that he hadn't been waiting by the door. The cold glares he got from both his mother and his father had chilled his soul. Whatever had made them so angry he didn't know, but he desperately wished it didn't had to happen today. He was still very sore from the beatings he received the day before. But Lady Luck never smiled in his direction. And why should she smile at such an insignificant little boy like him?
They had lashed out instantly, shoving him backwards. His back right into the corner of the hallway table, and his head smashing into the mirror placed above it. The force of the shove was enough to break the mirror and sliding down, he could feel pieces of glass stuck in his hair and the fresh wound in the back of his head causing blood to run down his neck. Having not expected the sudden shove and the pain he'd called out in surprise. He'd known his mistake the moment his parents had halted their movements of hanging their coats on the rack and looked towards him. Suddenly it was as if they had forgotten that they were mad at each other and decided that they would take it all out on him instead.
His father stepped forward and slowly pressed down with the heel of his shoe on his left hand. He bit his lip, hard enough to bleed, to not cry out or whimper even as the bones broke. Then it would hurt even more. A swift kick from a ladies shoe forced his head to the side, the sharp heel grazing his temple causing the skin to break and small droplets of blood to trickle forth. Dizzy and losing a little control of his reactions, he moaned pitifully and a few drops of tears overflowed his eyes to run down pale cheeks. Next he felt his whole body loose contact with the floor as the father picked him up by his neck, strong fingers wound in a tight grip around his throat, cutting of any and all air trying to get in or out of his lungs.
"What's this? Crying?" the man's voice hissed, low and threatening. "What have I said about crying!"
The boy frantically shook his head and tried to speak up, to apologize, to say he didn't mean to, but in vain. The grip was simply too tight. He looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing, but like the fish he got no air and his lungs were starting to protest. A shiver of fear ran down his spine. Were they trying to strangle him? Did they want him to die?
"Stupid brat. Crying is all he's good for." His mother spat viciously.
"And who's to blame for that?" his father taunted the woman. "Probably inherited your weak-minded brain." The fire in his mother's eyes grew, as did her rage.
"Any bad genes he's got, he has after you. Don't forget that he's your son!" she yelled at him.
"Shut up you stupid bitch! Him being born is all your fault! I never wanted a child, and such a measly one at that!"
"I never wanted him either!"
"Then you should never have gotten pregnant! Or gotten rid of him before he was born!"
"I would have, had you not taken all our money and spent it on your drinking and buying whores!"
"If you would just do your job as a good wife and keep me satisfied here at home I wouldn't have to look elsewhere!"
"That's bullshit, and you know it!"
The boy, who seemed to have been forgotten in all the loud shouting, was struggling to get even the slightest amount of oxygen into his now screaming lungs. He could feel the darkness closing in and see the dark spots scattered over his vision. Some part in the back of his mind wished for the darkness to take him away. On instinct his hand clawed at the thing stopping the air's passage, his father's rough hands. It was never his intention, right then he was more focused on surviving, but his nails accidentally pierced the skin on the hands enough to draw blood. That was the moment he was thrown across the room and straight into the wall. Had there been any air left in those lungs it would have surely been knocked out of him.
"You little bitch!" The man screamed while nursing his scratched hand. And it was then his father advanced on him, lying defenceless against the wall, trying hard to breathe. A heavy foot slammed into his ribs. One time. Two times. Three times. Again and again it descended on the aching bones of his chest.
Being born with a lithe frame and being undernourished for a long time resulted in frail bones. And being subjected to that kind of brute force, naturally they break.
His body jolted in a new wave of pain. A pain burning its way from the inside out. If he could have screamed he would have. But the moment he opened his mouth to release the sound his lungs collapsed, transforming the would be scream into a coughing fit instead. His throat felt like it was on fire as he coughed out blood. Desperately he opened and closed his mouth, like a fish out of water, to try to get some air into his systems, but his body couldn't hold it in, resulting in him coughing even more and thus increasing the pain and the blood falling from his mouth.
Panic wrapped itself tightly around his mind. He couldn't breathe! He was suffocating!
'I don't wanna die!'
Another kick was aimed at him, but before it could reach its target the window exploded inwards showering the room with glittering shards of glass and the air was filled with the screams of, not his for once, but his parent's fear.
He did not know what had made him go to this neighbourhood. It was not the ideal place for catching prey, with no dark alleys where he could hide like in the more central parts of the city.
Even though it wasn't really the right time for hunting yet, it was just afternoon going on evening with the sun barely touching the horizon, but he sometimes enjoyed coming out of hiding earlier than normal to watch the humans hurrying home to their families after a day of hard work. Seeing how they were greeted by loving partners and enthusiastic children with hugs, kisses and sweet words. The picture of a perfect family idyll, even if all cases weren't that perfect it was still peaceful to watch the gentle feelings that existed between members of a family. It awoke a feeling deep within his cold heart, a feeling of longing for someone to love just like that. Someone to share immortality with. But even after all the hundreds of years he'd lived he had never found anyone who could catch his interest more than a fleeting glance. Except now.
Something had called him here. A strange aura of something very different, like a new smell in the air. A feeling of destiny, that he was supposed to be here, in this place right now. But why? What was he to do or find here?
He sighed. Destiny works in mysterious ways, his mother had once told him, a long time ago when he was still a mortal. She was gone now, murdered, but he still remembered her and her wisdom, and how true her words were.
So he had no choice but to wait until destiny decided to reveal its reasons. He could always ignore the sensation and calling too, but his curiosity had been awakened by that subtle tug in his mind and eternity did not often give one these unexpected events.
He settled down on a rooftop close to a small park to watch the children playing and laughing. The feeling was stronger here. Closing his eyes and opening all his other senses he concentrated, trying to locate the source of this mysterious calling.
He reached out with his mind only to suddenly be bombarded by feelings, impressions and thoughts that were not his own. So it was a person who was the source of it all. He delved deeper. So deep he could feel this person's, apparently a boy's, feelings. Pain, longing for something out of reach, sadness, loneliness…and then…confusion…awareness. That shocked him and made him draw back. This boy could feel him!
Tentatively he reached forward again, to brush gently and questioningly against the boy's mind. Small tendrils of thoughts greeted him.
This boy was talented. To be able to control his own conscious mind that well was something most humans could never do. With intensive training for years they could learn, but most never had the energy to learn something that most didn't believe was real anyway. So who was this child?
As an echo to his own thoughts a small quiet voice asked softly in his mind; "Who are you?"
Surprisingly enough he detected no fear of himself from the boy. Would he still be as fearless if he revealed himself to the mortal?
Suddenly his mind was attacked by millions of thoughts of fear. But not his fear. The boy's fear. The child was afraid. Deathly afraid of something. But not of himself. Something else. Then, there was pain. Mind consuming and heartbreaking pain.
His eyes darkened. Someone dare hurt this child? They would pay.
Keeping his connection with the boy steady he started running in the direction in which the feeling were at it's strongest. And sure enough, it strengthened for each step he took. But with each step closer he could also feel more and more of the boy's emotions and pain.
A house. There! He could see it now. That was where the boy was!
A scream resounded in his head as the pain suddenly sky-rocketed, followed by a blind panic.
'I don't wanna die!'
Almost of its own accord his body increased it's already blinding speed. People he passed on the way never saw more that a slight breeze ruffling the grass.
And it was at this neck-breaking speed that he burst through the window spraying glass all over the living room floor and furniture. In less than a millisecond his eyes and mind had taken in his surroundings and the situation.
The boy near death, bleeding on the floor. The foot rushing forward, aimed at him from the man and the woman who stood a few steps away and approaching with another tool, no doubt to join in the beating.
The world was no longer full of different colours. All he could see was red. Everything was red! From the blood trickling down the boy's skin and the mans face red from rage to the woman's lipstick and the stains of old dried blood of the walls.
Everything but him seemed to move in slow-motion as he rushed forward quickly and easily breaking the man's leg and throwing him across the room and calling forth shadows that bound the woman in place so she couldn't flee.
And then it was as if the world had gone back to its normal pace.
The man crashed into the television set with a loud pained cry and then fell to the floor in a whimpering heap.
The woman screamed in pain as the shadows that bound her around the wrists, the ankles, the neck and the waist, burned their way into her skin.
But causing them pain was not enough to satisfy his burning rage. No. To do that, they would have to die!
The man lifted his head from the floor to stare at him with scared little eyes as he approached. Killing this man would be sweet bliss. But first he would take great pleasure in torturing this one. To turn his own torture of another against himself and show exactly how it felt to be scared.
More dark shadows came forward to wrap around the man's spine. Then they pulled, and hard. The man screamed as each of the vertebraes was slowly crushed, starting at the caudal vertebra at the base of his spine all the way up. For each vertebrae that was crushed the man would give another agonising scream. The only thing keeping the man from going unconscious from the pain was the stranger forcing the man to remain conscious to feel it all. But that ended when his neck was finally snapped. Slowly he got up as the body of the man sagged to the floor.
Next he approached the woman. She was crying and whimpering in fear while desperately tugging on the bounds that kept her from running away. But all that only caused her more pain as the bonds cut deeper into her flesh.
"W-who..a-…a-are y-you?" she cried in a small voice. Did she feel as scared right now as her son must have felt before? He hoped so.
He did not answer her question. It didn't matter. She wouldn't be alive much longer. And who would she talk to when she was dead.
A silent command and the shadows around her wrists tightened their grip to the point of slowly breaking the bones.
She screamed in pain.
He sneered disdainfully.
Being careful to make sure she felt as much pain as possible he sank his fangs into her neck, making sure she could feel the pain from every drop of life leaving her body. The second the blood touched his tongue he had to hold himself so as to not spit it out, it was such an ungodly horrible taste. Fowl blood from a fowl soul.
When he pulled out he ripped her skin a little, or a lot, more than was necessary. Dispersing the shadows he let the body fall limply like a rag doll to the floor, spilling from the neck the small amount of blood left.
The red rage left his mind and he stood there staring at the remains of his handiwork. The two bodies, the broken window, scattered glass and the fresh blood were all proof of his anger. He couldn't believe he had lost so much control like that. He always had better control over his feelings than that. But now that control had snapped like it was never there in the first place. What had caused him to be so very angry? It was only a child, one who was not the only one suffering in this world.
His head snapped up and he hurried across the room to kneel beside the small figure. In his blind destruction he had completely forgotten about the boy.
Careful hands turned the child from laying face down on the floor to rest him gently against his own chest. Droplets of tears was sliding down damp skin and the small body was trying vainly to breathe. He frowned and reached out with his senses to see what damage had been done.
It took only a minute to realise that one of the boy's lungs had been punctured by one of his broken ribs causing it to flood with fluid from ruptured blood vessels. He was slowly drowning in his own blood. If the child didn't get medical attention soon he would die, and even then, there was a chance he might not make it. And the stranger didn't want the child to die. He couldn't let him die. And to the question why he couldn't and didn't want to answer.
See there really was no other choice for him but to heal the boy. Healing this way was tricky, but it was his only option.
As gentle as possible he bit down on the pale skin of the neck, letting the blood drop into his mouth. This blood was sweet. Far sweeter than anything he'd ever had before. It was pure and strong, even though it was laced with a salty and bitter taste of pain. He wouldn't drink much, but a small amount was necessary for the exchange.
So even though it was hard to stop he had to. He was only supposed to take as little as possible and no more. So reluctantly he stopped drinking, but did not pull away. A vampire's fangs were hollow, sort of like a needle, and held a special neural toxin in them, a serum that was injected into their prey to keep them paralyzed while the vampire fed. It could also reduce the pain of the bite, but only when the vampire chooses it to. But now, in order to heal, he used his fangs to, instead of the serum, inject a smaller amount of his own blood directly into the bloodstream of the boy. Transition of blood this way wouldn't change a person, for that to happen they would have to drink the blood of a vampire to become one, but his stronger vampiric blood would speed up the healing process and replace much of the blood the boy had lost. There was a possibility the blood would have additional side effects as the boy grew up, but that was a thought of no importance right now.
He kept injecting his blood until he could feel the bones ends fusing together again. Only then did he stop and removed his fangs from the boy's neck. While the new blood did its job at healing the wounds, both old and new ones, he took the opportunity to study the strange child's appearance.
Even though he was very thin, too thin to be normal, and his pale skin giving off an unhealthy glow, he was still beautiful in his own way. His hair was actually similar to his own, with the black centre with red tips and yellow bangs, even though the boy's hair was limp and had a dull shine – another sign of the mistreating he'd been subjected to. Well-nourished and healthy with a happy home this boy would probably grow into a natural beauty. Other than the hair they were totally different, he was still too young to draw any further similarities.
He watched as the young one's breathing evened out with the healing ribs and the blood in his lung being transported away. A few moments later and pale eyelids fluttered and fought against the pain of moving and heavily open to let bleak lilac eyes peer at the unknown man holding him against his chest. The stranger smiled gently, a strangely comforting smile, and one of his hands came up to caress the boy's cheek. Not used to contact, except painful one, he flinched and weakly struggled to get further away from that hand.
"Shh…" the man soothed. "Don't be afraid little one. I won't hurt you. I would never hurt you. I promise."
He could see in those eyes that it would take more than a few words to convince the child that he meant no harm. And he couldn't really blame him. Having to grow up with such parents would make him untrusting too. But it was not that he was really untrusting, more like he was so used to pain that he expected nothing more than that from another being.
But through all that fear he still had the courage to speak up.
"Promise?" a small light voice asked. The stranger frowned, but the look immediately softened when the child flinched at the hard face he was making. That was not a normal question as in one asking another if they really mean they would promise something or if they meant it. No there was something else behind that question...Of course…The child was not asking him to make a promise; he was asking what a promise was!
"You don't know what a promise is?" He raised an eyebrow.
The boy frantically shook his head with wide scared eyes, afraid he'd done something wrong by asking that question.
"Okay…How to explain…A promise is sort of an assurance, a vow, that a person will or will not do something. So if I promise to never hurt you that mean that I will never, ever do anything that can harm you…Do you understand?"
The boy nodded and relaxed slightly, either from tiredness or from the small comfort the words offered. He guessed it was the former.
"Good." He said smiling, relieved that he wouldn't have to explain it again – he really was not good at explaining things. "Now young one, would you tell me your name?"
Curious and intrigued eyes blinked at this confusingly strange man.
The eyebrow rose again even higher this time. 'He doesn't have a name?'
"A name is what others call you. What did your parents call you?" He hated to use the word parents about the now no longer existing individuals, they didn't deserve to be parents to this poor child in the first place, but he didn't have any other word to use for them that was proper for young ears to hear. But he wished he had given them any other name when the boy seemed to shrink a little in his arms, trying to hide his face in his chest, seeking comfort at the haunting memory of pain. His arms snaked across the small frame, careful not to startle him, hugging the little one closer and shielding him from the outside world, and hopefully some of the inner torment as well.
'So scared he is.'
Voice half muffled by the shirt he got his answer; "Masters says brat. Is that my name?"
Now it was his turn to blink. "Masters?" he echoed stupidly and watched as the child flinched as if hit and nodded, while still trying to hide in his shirt. "Brat?"
"No that is not your name." He surprised himself with how cold he sounded. But he couldn't really help it. His hate for the people he had killed only got stronger for every second. "No, brat is a fowl word used to tease or taunt. It is not a name, and certainly not your name." 'He really doesn't have a name. Poor child.' He smiled kindly while loosening one of his hands to caress the soft, pale cheek again. "Would you like me to give you a name little one?"
Wondrous eyes peeked out of their hiding place to stare incredulously up at him, the hand never loosening their death grip on the fabric of his clothes.
"Would you like a name?" he asked again, still keeping that smile on his face. He actually felt a little excited about getting to name this child. Why he didn't know, but he did. And so he was overjoyed when the child nodded.
"A good name for you…" he said and tapped the boy on the tip of his nose making him go cross-eyed trying to follow the finger. "…would be Hikari, which means light. What do you think of that?"
The beginning of a smile tugged at small lips and the boy nodded. A silent cheer from the stranger as the child relaxed a little more.
"Then Hikari it is. That will be your name from now on and no one can take it away from you. It's all yours."
The smile spread until it had lit up the boy's entire face, like a flower spreading it's petals for the first time towards the sun. It made such a difference that he was almost stunned. But what did shock him was when the little one wrapped his arms around his neck, just like he had seen the children on the other side of the glass do, in a heartfelt hug. The man smiled and without hesitation hugged the boy, now named Hikari, back. No one had ever offered such kindness towards either of them before. One for being a lost, neglected, forgotten child and the other for being what he was.
People unconsciously shied away from his kinds aura, even if they never found out exactly what he was they naturally made the choice to stay away. That was a reason to why his kind stayed secret, for fear of rejection from the world. It was one lonely existence. But this child accepted him without fear, well not completely without fear but almost, which was extraordinary considering his experience with others. 'You are something else Hikari. Something very special. I will make sure you are protected.'
Slowly he released his hold and backed away enough so he could see Hikari's face.
"What your name?" came the sudden question and the man just had to smile at the honest curiosity shown on that young face.
"My name little one, is Yami."
"…Yami…" Hikari whispered, as if sampling the name on his tongue.
"It's time to go Hikari."
Surprise and confusion showed in those large eyes.
He stood, sweeping his cape around and picking the boy up in his arms, taking extra care to not aggravate one of his still healing wounds, and started walking towards the door while being careful that the little light would not see the bodies of his once parents.
"Yes, we are going. I am taking you to a friend of mine and his family."
The stranger looked down at the tilted head and questioning eyes.
"You don't…ahh, never mind." 'The child doesn't know what a promise is, doesn't have a name and here I am, surprised over that he doesn't know the word friend.'
They had made it out the door, into the light outside. Or the rapidly disappearing light since it was sunset. He walked past the park where a few children was lingering until their parents would come to take them home for dinner. He pointed to them.
"See those kids playing together?"
"They are friends with each other. Friends are people close to you, people you can trust and have fun with."
He continued walking down the path, away from the house and the playground, until they reached a more secluded corner of the park where no one could see past the thick trees and dense foliage of bushes and leaves.
"Hang on tight little one. Wouldn't want to drop you now."
And with that he spread his leathery black wings wide and with a small running jump took off from the ground. Casting a spell to keep them unseen from prying eyes he flapped his wings to climb higher. The view if the city at sunset spread out below, and they could see further and further away with the increasing altitude. The light from the last dying rays reflected in the windows of the highest buildings, making them sparkle and glitter a fiery red. Amazed amethyst eyes strained, trying to take all of the new things they saw in at once. He giggled happily, the feeling of flying bringing a comfortable lightness to his soul. Having heard the happy sound the man looked down to study the smiling face of the boy in his grasp. The sun's light reflected in those big pools, making them glow ethereally and seem very beautiful. At that moment it was as if he could see into the soul of the boy. A soul shining as bright as the sun, if not brighter in just that moment through all the years of torment.
'A true light. So very rare. I see I picked a good name for you my Hikari.'
His eyes travelled to the mark on the boy's neck, placed at the spot where he had bit him. Instead of two points where his fangs had pierced the skin there was a small tattoo-like mark in a pale white colour, shaped like a stylized eye with a small teardrop in the right corner. His mark. The mark that would warn all other supernatural beings to not touch or harm this boy unless they wanted to face his wrath and die an unpleasant death by his hands. The mark that showed his claim over the child, that he belonged to him, and only him.
'You are mine sweet Hikari. All mine.'
The day gave way to night and the sun disappeared past the horizon to be replaced by a bright moon and shining stars. All over the city they were now flying over street lights, neon lights, lamps and disco lights came alive, making the city shine in it's own artificial light. The boy in his arms had long since succumbed to darkness, sleeping peacefully against his chest. He must have been totally exhausted to be able to fall asleep so easily in a stranger's arms. He smiled at the cute sight, and with the smile still on his lips turned forward again and continued to fly through the night.
The darkest hour of the night had long since descended upon the world when he finally reached his destination and softly landed on the ground, so to not disturb his charge's peaceful rest. Throwing a cautious glance around, just to make extra sure there weren't any people out that could see them, he took down the invisibility spell and retracted his wings. He adjusted the cape-covered bundle in his arms before starting to walk up towards the house which lawn he'd landed on.
The neighbourhood around was one of the little wealthier styled ones, but still far from the snobbish looking billionaire houses with their giant estates. Even though these estates was a fraction larger than the average home, it was by no means that really big. The particular house to which door he was walking was a fairly large two storey red toned brick building with a small garage. Trees lined a simple driveway up to the building and half visible around the back was a small pond with a few cherry-blossom trees and also a small greenhouse. The estate was on the front surrounded by a medium high brick wall in the same colour as the house itself and towards the back was a smaller forest. A small door lamp was lit on the porch and with determined steps the stranger walked up to the door and knocked resolutely. They might be asleep, but he doubted it. They were real night creatures in this family, in more sense than one. Demons for example. Never would he entrust something this important to a mere human, even if at least some of his closer friends were humans. Suddenly the door opened and in the opening now stood a man, seemingly in his early thirties with dark blond hair and a pair of deep brown eyes. When he saw who exactly stood outside his door those eyes lit up in pleasant surprise.
"My Lord!" he exclaimed. "This was certainly a surprise. Come in, come in." and he stepped aside with a small bow and gestured into the house with a hand.
"Long time no see my friend." The 'lord' replied and graciously stepped inside. His friend smiled and shut the door outside.
"Indeed my Lord." A mock-dramatic sigh and a sarcastic roll of the eyes came from his guest.
"How many times have I told you to call be by my name Ted. I get enough of that annoying grovelling at my feet from those petty nobles." The lord scolded friendly. "Backstabbing bastards, all seeking to cure favour with me." He added in a dark muttering that clearly shoved his desire to break all of their necks just to be rid of that pesky nuisance.
His friend laughed. "So you did Yami. But it's always so fun to tease you."
"Well don't." Yami grumbled. "It makes you almost s annoying as the Tomb Robber."
"Speaking of him, have you seen Bakura lately?"
"No. And I am damn glad I haven't. Otherwise I might have strangled him for what happened last time. Why do you ask?"
"Oh it's nothing really. Just Selene sensing some strange activity lately." Here he paused and eyed his guest. "I bet you know something about it." A questioningly raised eyebrow from him and his guest answered with a curt nod. "Mind clueing me in? And also tell me what you have there?" he gestured toward the bundle in Yami's embrace. It was still covered but he could see enough of the outline as to conclude it was a person. A small person, most probably a child. But why would Yami bring a child here?
"Where is Selene? I think she needs to hear this too." Ted frowned at the evasive question. Whatever troubled his friend was seemingly serious.
"She is upstairs putting our youngest one to bed. She should be down any minute. We can sit down in the living room while we wait." Another nod was the only answer to his suggestion and so he led the way. The television was on when they entered, showing some random cartoon show. Sprawled out on their belly's in front was two identical looking boys. Both had short hair in a light blond colour and when they turned to see who had entered the room you could see that they each had one brown and one blue-grey coloured eye indicating their heritage of mixing gifts.
"Yami!" they exclaimed happily when sighting just who it was following their father into the room. In an instant they were on their feet swarming around him. He chuckled.
"I see you still remember me."
"Hai, hai." They chorused together. Isn't it funny that twins always seem to speak together or finishing each others sentences. "Have you got something for us?"
"Did you bring us anything?" the bubbling excitement in their bodies made them hyperactive and bouncy. He laughed at the cuteness of it all.
"Daisuke! Kai!" a sharp voice from the stairs scolded. "Behave boys. That is no way to great a guest is there?" even though her voice was firm and scolding the effect was softened with the twinkle of good humour in her blue-grey eyes when Selene entered the room. Immediately the two boys quieted down and muttered a quick 'Sorry mum'. Yami chuckled.
"I see you have good discipline over them Selene."
"Yami." She greeted warmly with a smile, coming to stand next to her partner. "It's good to see you again. The boys were looking forward to your next visit, which I am sure you could tell already."
"Really now. That was so hard to tell." He said jokingly with a small wink to the twins who smiled mischievously and perked up.
"So did you bring anything?" they asked again and giggled at the reprimanding look their mother gave them.
"Boys!" she hissed.
"It's alright Selene. I don't mind." Yami said. "In fact I did bring something." The twins smiled excitedly. "But it won't be what you expect." At the others questioning looks he gestured with a small nod of his head over to the couch. "Why don't we sit down and I will explain." He walked over and made himself comfortable, adjusting the bundle so that it now sat in his lap leaning against his chest. Selene sent the twins to the kitchen to fetch cups and tea. After everyone was seated; Yami in the couch, Selene and Ted in two armchairs across from him and the twins on the floor, and the tea served he started speaking: "I can imagine you have a lot of questions to ask me." Twin nods from the married couple. "Alright, earlier this day I was in Kagoshima, a –"
"Kagoshima! But that's in Kyushu!"
"I should know considering I flew all the way over here."
"But why so far?"
"Because I had to find a safe place for him and I thought here would be best."
"I'm getting there." He cleared his throat and continued; "As I was saying; I was in Kagoshima, sitting on a rooftop, and watched the humans running by on the streets below. I had not eaten anything for almost two weeks so I lay in wait for the night when I would hunt whatever unsuspecting idiot there was wandering the streets." Ted held up a hand and stopped him.
"Wait. You mean to tell me that you flew all the way over here, for five hours, without having fed before. How come you're not exhausted?"
"In a minute." He had to settle for that answer as Yami did not offer anything else. "Now, as I was sitting there I felt something. I had no idea what it was but it was drawing me to something. Curious I decided to see where it would lead me. So I followed whatever it was to a small house in a quiet neighbourhood on the outskirts of the town. And there I found this." And with that he gently folded the cape back to reveal the sleeping child. Quietly they took in the child's appearance, from the tri-coloured hair, the bleak skin, pale thin lips to the bruises and cuts marring his face and most likely the rest of his body which they couldn't see for the moment.
"Sweet Heaven." Selene breathed. "What happened to him?"
"He was dying when I found him, getting beat up by what I guess was his parents. He had several broken bones and a punctured lung along with internal bleeding. If I had not healed him he surely would have died."
"You healed him?" Ted asked. In response Yami gently slipped two fingers under the child's chin and raised his head to expose the fresh mark on the neck.
"And marked him!" Selene exclaimed.
"He would have died." Was the calm response. "And as for the marking…" Blood red eyes darkened, glowing with a possessive fire, and his voice dropped to a low growl. "No one hurts what is mine." He snarled. Small shivers travelled around the room and the twins unconsciously scooted closer to each other. Slender fingers caressed a pale cheek and Yami's glare softened and eventually disappeared when he looked upon the treasure in his arms. Voice back to normal he said; "I can't let anyone hurt him. I won't let anyone hurt him. He is to be happy and protected at all times, as is befitting a Light." There was silence. Then…
"He is a Light?"
"How can you be sure?"
"Because his blood tells me so. And also the fact that he can control his mind well enough to mind talk." A proud smile graced his face. The twins sitting on the floor who had been slightly forgotten during the conversation until now was suddenly brought to the adults attention when Daisuke spoke up. "What's a Light?"
Selene closed her mouth, having been about to ask Yami a question of her own, when her son interrupted, and turned to the pair of curious eyes belonging to her children. Stumped over the sudden question the best answer her mind could come up with was a small; "I don't know." Which only served to make the children look even more confused. She threw a helpless glance at her partner, hoping he could explain it, both since her mind was not cooperating and since he was better at explaining things in a language that the younger could understand. Fortunately he had been somewhat prepared having anticipated an inquiry like that. With a smile he leaned forward.
"The truth is boys," he began. "that no one really knows what a light is. There are some small clues, gathered over the centuries, which we can make some guesses from. But that's all there is – guesses. The lights are so rarely born that no one has had a chance to prove if anything is correct or not. And they are often, for some unknown, reason, killed before they can grow up. That's why we know practicarly nothing about them. We don't even know if they are human or not. All we know is that they are creatures, humanlike in appearance, with a lighter soul who have a link to another plane." Maybe the boys were still too young to comprehend some things, but they could still understand the basic meaning. But as all young children they had an insatiable curiosity, and their eagerly glowing eyes showed the strong urge to find out more. And if they hadn't been interrupted by the softest of sounds, maybe they would have given voice to all their wonderings. But that softest of whimpers from the resting boy stopped them. Yami tightened his hold on his young charge and raised a hand to stroke it through his hair making soothing noises. He smiled when the child snuggled closer and relaxed into sleep again.
"Why did you bring him here Yami?" his friend asked. Yami sighed, almost sadly.
"I have some business I need to take care of, and as much as I would like to, I can't bring him along. He is still a child and deserves a stabil upbringing, which I cannot give him. So I came here in hopes of finding someone willing to take care of raising him until I return." He looked up to them, to look into their eyes, and if they didn't know any better, if they didn't know this was Yami and he would never do anything like it, they might have thought his eyes looked pleading. But since this was Yami, and his pride was something else, they quickly ruled that out. But it was still clear that what he asked of them was really important to him.
"I am asking this of you, since you are one of my closest friends and I know that I can trust you with something this important; to give him a loving home as well as protection." Silence reigned for a few minutes while the couple processed their friends strange request and what the consequences of their answer would be. After all, taking in this unfamiliar and strange child into their little family was not something to be taken lightly or decided without thinking things through. And they also had to take their children's thoughts into consideration. After all it was their home too. Their youngest one was no point in asking as she could hardly speak to begin with being only three years old and would probably not understand much of the situation. But the twins they could ask. So they would be the ones to decide.
"Boys, what would you think of getting a little brother?" Selene asked. At their enthusiastic nodding she smiled and turned to Yami. "We accept then. He can stay. We'll take care of him for you." Just like that all of the tension in his frame seemed to run out of Yami and he slumped back in the couch with a relieved smile.
"Thank you." His movement had disturbed the young one's slumber, and now he was waking up. Dark eyelashes fluttered and pale eyelids pulled back to show a set of bleak amethyst orbs. Lightly confused they travelled around each visible corner of the unfamiliar room and the unfamiliar faces.
'Adults.' His mind registered fearfully, and he curled even further into Yami's protective embrace with a small piteous whine. 'Don't let them hurt me.' He formed the thought and sent to his guardian and since both Ted and Selene was listening in they had heard it too.
"Don't worry little one," Yami assured. "there is no need to be afraid. These are some very close friends of mine and they would never hurt you." Slowly, to not seem so intimidating, Selene slipped down from the armchair and crawled on her knees towards the couch with the kindest smile she could muster on her lips.
"That's right sweetie," She cooed to the scared boy. "We would never hurt someone as sweet as you. I promise." He visibly relaxed at the words 'I promise', more from exhaustion than anything else, and even though he was still tense and vary he had taken his first step towards trusting his new family. And now when the fear was slowly diminishing, no one had hurt him thus far and didn't seem to want to do so at all, his curiousness grew. Having never been out in the world and meeting other people than his parents everything was so new to him, and so he reached out with a small hand to touch that kindly smiling face. It was so amazingly different from anything he had ever seen. Afraid of scaring him with any sudden movements Selene remained perfectly still during his quiet exploration. Fingers ghosted over her eyes, cheeks and following the curves of her smiling lips. Finally satisfied, and happy that they hadn't gotten angry and decided to punish him, he drew his hand back and leaned back in Yami's body with a small yawn.
"Tired little one?" Yami asked and he nodded drowsily with slowly sinking eyelids. He was struggling to stay awake, not really trusting these new people yet, but it was fighting a loosing battle. "Then go to sleep, sweet one and I will see you again some day."
"Promise?" even his voice was laced with sleep and Yami smiled at the sheer cuteness of his half-asleep charge.
"Yes. I promise." And then he slipped away into a comforting darkness.
Don't you dare think of killing me for putting Yugi through all that, for if you do that – not only will I never be able to write the next chapter, but I will also haunt you for a long time to come.
So that was it. What did you think? God, bad…totally horrible and I should never write anything again? Go ahead and tell me, or yell at me, in your review. And I'd really appreciate constructive criticism on this one, it will really help me when I get around to writing my book.
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Don't forget – 5 reviews Chapter 2
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