Hey everyone! Tis ferris!

A one-shot here taken from Malik's (Yami Malik's) perspective while trapped in the Shadow Realm after his banishment at the end of the Battle City Tournament. It actually turned out better than I thought it would. Yay for me! -hugs self-

Malik: -grumbles- ...and I probably die at the end...

-rolls eyes- Anyhoo, the rating is more for language than anything else. Onward!

Cruelty is a part of nature, at least of human nature, but it is the one thing that seems unnatural to us. --Robinson Jeffers


I hate this sound.

That barely perceivable howl made of thousands of millions of screams of the mute.

The sound of emptiness.

I pull my legs tightly against my chest, eyes darting back and forth within the dead gray fog. The heavy moisture coats my skin like translucent mucus. A shiver passes through me but it doesn't leave, and it doesn't just linger...it jolts...it shocks...it stings...

I'm all by myself here. But then you're here too, aren't you? And I'm not here...

I miss your eyes.

I miss looking into them and seeing deep into your mind. Your eyes are just like mine. There's always been that longing in them for something just within inches of your fingers that you cannot quite grasp. My 'light', they call you. My 'other half'. My 'hikari'. My 'landlord' --as if the body belonged solely to you and I were nothing more than some obtrusive parasite. But what if our fusion is different than those of the Pharaoh, the thief, and their counterparts?


No whatifs. You and I are different from them.

Isn't that funny? Marik and I.

I even think of us as separate entities now, as if I were like the other yamis; possessing a past of my own—detached from yours. From ours.


And you wouldn't listen. Not to me anyway. You didn't listen as I opened your eyes to the abuse being inflicted upon our very body by our own family. Our own fucking family! You pushed me back every time anger threatened to take hold—every time we were subjected to another ancient 'ritual'. An honor, our father called it. And so, since you wouldn't make it stop, I did. I was sick of the lies and the pain and the helpless feeling...the weakness.

We killed him.

But where I told you this, you became enraged and locked me away in the shadows again. Called me the monster even as his corpse had yet to stiffen. You were seething. Was it because you loved him, as you have since claimed? It's easy to say that now...now that he's gone and cannot hurt us anymore. Did you really care for that bastard that beat us and controlled us and locked us down in the dark to crush our hopes?

...or is it because I beat you to it?

A smile twitches on the corners of my mouth even as the empty noise threatens to deafen me. That's it, isn't it? Oh Marik, don't you see? We're not like the Pharaoh and his light nor the thief and his silent puppet. I didn't kill him. We killed him.

And you liked it.

You relished the fear in his eyes that reflected the look in our own for those wretched eight years. Deep inside, you still savor the memory of the final death rattle; just thinking of it lulls you to sleep at night.

And what of our quest for control of the world? Why did you forfeit so easily to that bastard Pharaoh? He doesn't even remember who he was. For all we know: it's all a hoax. He insists on protecting this world but...

...what if this world isn't worth protecting?

You and I have both seen the darker side of this planet. Tell me, Marik, just what do the Pharaoh and his little posse know about pain? Know about hatred and suffering? Just because they haven't had it bad means they should defend such a place as this wretched existence? They've been lucky that the worst they've endured has been manageable. They've only seen a small shade of the world—one of the few better shades of the world.

But what about the rest of the colors? What about the people trapped within them that are doomed to suffer and never experience a moment without true fear and agony?

What about us?

I tell you now, Marik, they would change the world if given the opportunity; the Pharaoh and his little minions opting for staying safe in the confines of their blissful little dream realm, leaving the rest of us to the harsh cruelty of reality.

They say I am the pure evil—banished so the true you could come forth and be free. Pure evil? Is such a thing even possible? 'Pure' indicates an innocent morality. So is this 'innocent evil'? Was murdering that fiend 'pure evil'? Was giving us a chance at freedom—a chance at life—'pure evil'?

You know you wanted it too. Even as you surrendered the final match to the Pharaoh, banishing me to this miserable wasteland, I could see it in your eyes.

We are me. We are I. We are you. We're a severed soul, not 'light' and 'dark' or 'good' and 'evil'. You'll come to realize this soon enough.

Lips now curling upwards into a satisfied smirk, I lay on my back on the cold ground, enveloped in the mist. The banging harsh shrieks of the silence cannot bother me now. I've no need to worry. You'll come back. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But you'll come back for me nonetheless. You need me. You can't fight it. After all...

You are me.

Malik: I...I didn't Die!

Baku: No wonder I didn't like it

Malik: Shut up you! -tackles-

Baku: Ack! Get him offa me! -fight pursues-

ferris: -rolls eyes- Anyway, I currently have two jobs and multiple personal things going on. Needless to say, I haven't finished any chapters for my others stories yet; though I have been working on them all!

readers and characters: le gasp!

ferris: -nod nod- Truly I have! And I'll update as soon as possible on each! Promise!

Review! -kowtows-