Yes, yes, I know, I know, but the new ideas won't leave me alone!! I am working on Helpless, and Indecent Proposal (which you all REALLY like ::beams proudly::), and Romantic Night and...and...the others...GAH!! You know, some of my fav authors don't update as quickly as I do!! ::takes in deep breaths:: Ok, ok...I'll get to them.
This fic, I dunno where it came from. I can't remember what I was reading, what I was looking at or watching when it cam to me, but came to me it did, and so here it is.
Summary: Bakura wants the Pharaoh to pay for his past and future crimes, and pay he shall...dearly!
Warnings: Yaoi, non-con.
Some Info: In this fic, Bakura tells a short story to Atemu, and the story is not very well described of whatever, but that is because it's being told as it's being spoken...in other words, if you think it's crappy, it was meant to sort of be that way, coming from a thief's mouth, not an affluent story teller. Oh...please do not ask me to continue this fic...it is a ONESHOT!!!!!
Eye for an Eye
Prince Atemu walked slowly through the halls of the palace looking left and right. It was deadly silent, only the sound of his sandals on the marble floor could be heard. 'Hello?' he called out hoping for some sort of answer. There was nothing. He continued walking and stopped dead when he heard very soft laughter. A chill ran up his spine. It wasn't a laughter of mirth, but of evil.
He began to walk a bit faster, heading for the throne room. This was all wrong. The palace was usually buzzing with activity, but he could find no-one since waking no more than two hours ago to find no servants waiting to dress him. Consequently, he'd thrown on a simple tunic and gold belt and left his room.
The laughter sounded closer and he gasped turning around swiftly only to find no one there, still moving towards the throne room. He had to find someone to find out what was happening. His gait quickened and before he knew it, out of fear, he was running as fast as he could through the long halls.
He burst through the doors expecting to find his father on the throne in the middle of an audience. What he wouldn't give right then to find that and be scolded for the interruption. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
'Father!' he shouted. 'Set? Isis?' He looked frantically and irrationally behind each pillar, in case the entire court were playing trick on him. 'Mahado?'
The evil laughter sounded all around him. 'Who's there?!' he demanded to the room. 'Show yourself!'
The laughter stopped. 'Good morning, Princeling,' the voice mocked.
Atemu spun round and round trying to locate the voice. 'Who are you?'
'Ah, that is the question, isn't it? You don't know me, but I am well acquainted with your father and his guards.'
The voice seemed to echo throughout the throne room. 'Where are you?' Atemu asked looking around wildly.
'I'm over here.' Atemu spun to face behind him. 'No, I'm over here.' He spun back around. 'No, here.' 'Here.' 'No, over here!'
'Stop it!' Atemu cried. He could not pin the voice down. He was dizzy from trying to find the location. 'What do you want?'
A very localised chuckle made him turn one last time. Out from behind one of the pillars he thought he'd looked stepped a man, not much older than himself, dressed in a red robe, with white hair and a horrifying scar across his right cheek overlapping his eye. He grinned at the shocked Prince.
'The Thief King!' Atemu breathed stepping back involuntarily.
'Ah, so you have heard of me.' The thief leaned against the pillar on one hand, the other on his hip. 'So, what sorts of things have you heard?' Atemu kept silent, eyes darting around the room for an escape. 'Ah, I see. Let me guess.' He pushed off the pillar and walked slowly over to where Atemu currently stood. 'You have only heard rumours, such things like 'Thief King...ruthless...murderer'...am I right?' Again, Atemu said nothing, but backed away several steps. 'Well...' A chuckle. '...they're all correct.'
Atemu tripped up the few stairs that led to the throne and was forced to sit down hard. He winced and then gasped when the tomb robber was no more than a hair's breadth away from his face. He stumbled up onto his feet but the thief gave him a push and he sat on the throne. 'Ah, that's better. A new Pharaoh on the seat of power.'
'What do you want?' Atemu asked not daring to move again with the killer so close. 'And what's going on? Where is everyone?'
The thief chuckled. 'All will be revealed later, but first, I want to tell you a rather disturbing story. Would you like to hear it?' Of course, the boy did not react. 'It starts a few years ago, in the village of Kul Elna, a village known on the outskirts of the Pharaoh's influence, and well-known to be a haven for thieves and killers...'
...A little boy, about ten-years old, was playing happily with some of his friends a distance away from the main centre, when the Pharaoh's guards attacked. With swiftness and the force of a hurricane, they destroyed all the houses and shops and slaughtered everyone there.
Hearing the commotion, the boy and his friends ran into the flaming streets and cries could be heard as they found their dead parents. The boy was actually in time to see the guards raping his mother in front of his father before decapitating her and then running a spear through his father's heart.
The boy, stricken with grief, didn't notice that several guards had come up behind him. They grabbed him, and decided to play with him. As if watching the deaths of his mother and father weren't enough, he was forced to watch as his friends found the same fate as the rest of the village.
The blood of his friends flew through the air and splattered against his face for he was held so close to the brutality. It was at that point that the world seemed to stop for the boy. All he could hear was the blood rushing around his body, thumping in his ears.
It is said that the boy became a force against which ten grown men could withstand. He took up arms and slashed and hacked in absolute fury, blinded by the blood of his friends and the men whose lives he was mercilessly taking. Unfortunately for the boy, he was still relatively weak and an additional thirty of the Pharaoh's guards fell upon him. He was disarmed and contained. The boy was beaten until he was semi-conscious, but awake enough to hear one of the Pharaoh's high-priests telling the guards to take him into custody. That was the last the boy heard before blackness claimed him.
The boy spent years in the dungeons of the palace, the days bleeding into one another, beaten and tormented, unable to grieve for his fallen family and friends, until one day, the Pharaoh himself visited him in that dank place.
'So, this is the boy that managed to kill ten of my best men?'
'Yes, my lord,' one of the pigs said.
'Open it up.'
'Do not question me!'
The door was opened. 'So, boy...tell me your name.'
The boy, now thirteen, naked and chained to the damp wall, looked up, criss-crossed scars on his face from countless attacks. 'My name?' he asked with a sadistic grin on his face. 'I will tell you mine if you tell me yours.'
'Do not make demands on me, boy. You will show me some respect or suffer the consequences.' The boy's head dropped and the Pharaoh thought it was in despair, but laughter bubbled up from him. The laughter turned maniacal and the Pharaoh gripped the boy's head by his hair lifting it sharply. 'And just what is so funny, boy?' he demanded.
The laughter stopped and the boy's slate grey eyes stared directly into those of the Pharaoh's, much to the old man's annoyance. 'You think that I could suffer any more consequences? My family killed, my village burned to the ground, and I've been locked in this god-forsaken hell-hole for god knows how many years. I couldn't suffer any more, you lowest of the low, may rats eat your heart, your eyes and your testicles, withered excuse for a human being!' He then spat in the Pharaoh's face.
Several of the guards drew their weapons, but the old man put his hand up to still them. He wiped the spittle from his face and smiled at the teen. 'You really think your life couldn't get any worse? That this is the lowest you can be?' He laughed and began to dis-robe and the young man's eyes widened. 'My boy, you have no idea how much worse it can get, and I will now show you.'
It was then that the Pharaoh brutally raped the boy. He took him roughly, his large erection piercing the boy's anus without preparation, making him bleed and scream for him to stop, and writhe whilst his men watched, each aching to have their turn.
The Pharaoh finally released himself within the boy's hole and pulled out, pulling his robe back on and stepping aside for his guards to have a go. There were so many that the boy lost count; in his mouth, in his ass, cum spurting all over him and inside of him, but eventually, each had been one round with him, and the Pharaoh was ready for another. This time, he was slow and steady, and the boy was forced to enjoy it.
Just as the Pharaoh was getting ready to leave the cells, he heard the boy utter something.
'What was that, boy?'
The boy lifted his head, eyelids drooping from exhaustion and cum dripping from his face and body. 'Bakura. My name...is Bakura.' The boy then grinned like the devil himself. 'I suggest you remember it, for it will be your undoing.'
It was only a few days later that the guards found the cell empty, and from then, the search for the boy that escaped the dungeon was on...
The thief grinned. 'Four years on, and your father's guards still haven't been able to catch that boy, Bakura, known as the Thief King.' He bowed. 'And, in case you hadn't caught on, I am that boy.'
Atemu's grip on the throne made his fingers ache, but he couldn't relax. The tale he had heard growing up about the savage village of Kul Elna was very different to the one he had just been told. 'No,' he said, tears falling from his face. 'You're wrong! My father would never do any of what you said. He would never allow the slaughter of innocent people, let alone children. And I know that in the last five years, he has had no-one in the dungeons. And he would never rape a child, never!'
Bakura resumed his position as close to the young prince without touching him as possible, and took pleasure in the look of fear on his tear-streaked face. 'It is very true. All of it. So, to answer your earlier questions, I am here to exact my revenge on your father for his wrong doings.'
'He didn't do anything!'
'Do you have any idea why the guards marched on Kul Elna?' The boy shook his head. 'It was because of the creation of the Millennium Items.'
Atemu's eyes widened. How did he know about the Items? The only way anyone knew was if they were present at their conception.
Bakura smirked. 'Confused? First, let me explain something you may not know about the Items. In order to create them, evil is extracted from a person as Ka and transferred into the molten gold out of which seven Items were made. That's why Kul Elna was attacked, to gain their Ka, being a haven for criminals who sought sancutary. And once the Items were created, they were given to six high priests and one to the Pharaoh himself. Each Item has much potential in the hands of someone who knows how to use them.'
'H...how do you know all of this?' Atemu asked.
Bakura stepped back, still smiling. He opened his robe, not only showing off his bronzed chest and abdomen, but the Millennium Ring as well. Atemu gasped. His friend and tutor, Mahado was the bearer of that Item. 'How did you get that?'
'Let's just say that your friend has a weakness for pretty apprentices. When I threatened his female companion, he was putty in my hands.' He began to laugh. 'And that will now answer another question of yours. We are not actually in your lavish home. With this Item, I have brought us to the realm of shadows. Oh, we are still in the palace, but no one can see us, and you can't see anyone.' He looked around. 'Right now, your father's priests have gathered trying to figure out how to find me to get the Ring back. This throne room is a flurry of activity, but for my purposes, I wanted us to be alone.'
'Your...purposes?' Atemu asked looking round the room to see if his vision could penetrate the illusion.
'Yes, my dear Prince, my revenge against the Pharaoh, which is two-pronged.' He stood with his hands on his hips, the Millennium Ring glowing softly against his skin. 'My plan is to do to him what he did to me. But since I am but one person, I will need to gather some power.' He put one foot on the bottom step and leaned forwards, his elbow bent and resting on his knee. 'I intend to gather all seven Millennium Items and release their powers. They will culminate into one mass of evil spirits, which I will control, and with that power, I will destroy the Pharaoh and his followers and become the new Pharaoh.' He threw his head back and laughed.
Atemu was shaking now. He had to figure out how to get away, but if they were in the Shadow Realm, he may not be able to get out until Bakura released him...if Bakura released him. 'You...you said your plan was t...two-pronged. What's the second prong?'
Bakura stopped laughing and focussed his icy-grey eyes on the pale ruby of the Prince's. 'Your father raped me of my innocence in more than one way. I intend to do the same.' His smile faded and his voice turned deadly sinister. 'The time for talk is now over. Time to scream.'
'No!' Atemu shouted when he realised the thief's intentions as Bakura lunged forwards and grabbed his arm. The much stronger male pulled him up off the throne and threw him down the few steps to the marble floor. Atemu grunted as he landed heavily on his left shoulder and hip. When the white-haired man did not immediately pounce again, he tried desperately to scramble back onto his feet, but in his fear, his hands were sweating, and they slipped on the smooth surface of the floor.
'There is no point in trying to escape,' Bakura was saying. 'I control the shadows here, and they will aid me.'
Atemu turned onto his back to try and get up, and gasped when black tendrils snaked around his waist, holding him to the floor. He felt the coldness seeping into his body through his tunic and he shivered. 'Please, don't do this. My father would never do what you said.' More tendrils wrapped around his ankles and wrists.
'Still trying to preach against his involvement?' Bakura asked rhetorically walking towards his prone captive. 'I know what happened to me, what he did to me, what happened to my family. So now you, as his only heir, will at least suffer a fraction of what I did.'
The tendrils lifted Atemu from the floor and upright until he was eye level with the thief. His arms were extended outwards and upwards until they were stretched above his head, and his legs were spread apart, his tunic riding up his thighs slightly.
The grin was back on Bakura's face. 'Let's see...you must be about sixteen now, am I right?' Atemu didn't answer him, and looked away as the thief went to lick his cheek. The tongue slid up to his ear instead. 'Yes, you must be. I remember being told I was only just that much older than you, so you're at least sixteen. Well, you've had three years grace, but that is about to change.'
The tendrils suddenly vanished and Atemu yelped as he was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Bakura was on him like a shot, situating himself between Atemu's legs and was ripping at the tunic until it tore, and was left hanging off the Prince's body. Lifting the bottom of the tunic, Bakura was pleased to find the prince naked below. 'Well now, do you often go walkies without anything on to hide your shame?'
Atemu put his hands to his face to hide his blush and the fresh tears pricking in his eyes. 'Please,' he begged. 'Please don't do this.'
In response to his pleas, Bakura pulled Atemu closer to him. He took one of the Prince's hands and lifted his own skirt. Atemu tried to pull his hand away, but soon found himself being forced to grip something that should be so familiar to him, but at the same time so foreign. At his touch, the already hardening flesh began to swell. Bakura forced the Prince's fingers around the shaft and used his hand to force-stroke him. 'Oh yes, that feels great.'
When Bakura let go, Atemu immediately whipped his hand out from under the skirt. In a flash, Bakura had both his hands trapped above his head with one hand, his other slowly jerking himself to full hardness. He then guided himself towards Atemu's entrance.
'No! Oh Ra, please no, don't!' the heir to the throne cried writhing in the thief's iron grip.
Bakura chuckled and pressed against the tight hole. He could feel the frightened boy tensing. 'No mercy,' he growled and shoved forwards. Atemu's cry of pain pierced the silence in the realm that Bakura had brought them to and echoed around the room.
Bakura felt a sudden rush of immense satisfaction at what he was doing. He let go of Atemu's wrists and lifted the boy's legs over his shoulders. He pulled back and thrust forwards again, eliciting another shriek from the Prince. A few more thrusts and the movements became smoother. Bakura saw droplets of red liquid falling to the throne room floor from between Atemu's legs, his erection coated with blood.
Atemu's cries turned into soft whimpers as the thief continued to thrust hard and fast into his abused entrance. He still pleaded softly with the thief to stop, but the words seemed to fall of deaf ears. Through his tears and half-lidded eyes, he looked up at the man claiming his virginity. Bakura's face expression was sheer determination laced with lust and vengeance. When the man caught sight of him looking, he grinned and leaned forwards thrusting especially hard. Atemu grunted and pushed futilely on Bakura's shoulders.
'If only I'd been able to get you to my hideout so that my men could have a go with you too, like your father allowed his men to do as well. I will never forget the look in his cold blue eyes as he watched his guards following his actions.'
Atemu had only been half listening to the teen pounding into him as he was losing consciousness, but his last words had him struggling to stave off the blackness in his vision. 'Blue...eyes?'
Bakura paid him no mind. He was close to his end and his thrusts became sloppy and frantic. He leaned further over the boy and with a final thrust, he came hard into the torn hole, growling like an animal.
'My father...' Atemu was saying as Bakura leaned on his arms to steady himself. 'He has...eyes like...mine.'
This time, Bakura listened to what was said. 'What?' he panted. He lifted himself a little to look into Atemu's eyes. He had noticed they were an unusual colour, and he was sure if he'd seen them previously, he would remember them. But the Pharaoh's eyes, the man who had raped him all those years ago, had blue eyes.
'My uncle...' the boy continued. Darkness was calling to him.
Bakura stared in astonishment at the Prince below him, still impaled on his softening cock. Was he right? Did the Pharaoh have red eyes like he did? 'No, this can't be.'
Atemu lifted his hands unsteadily. They rose, ghosting over the still robed arms of the man who had raped him. They travelled slowly up the arms and along his neck, slim fingers hooking onto the rope of the Millenium Ring. 'Not...my...father,' he whispered.
Bakura, still coming down from his high and stunned by the revelation that perhaps it had not been the Pharaoh, but one of his priests, his brother in fact, didn't notice the Ring being slipped off his neck.
The fantasy of the empty throne room crackled and faded. Bakura realised too late what was happening. The illusion shattered and he found himself, cock still embedded within the Prince, in a room full of the most powerful people in the country.
The noise in the room suddenly died down as they became the centre of attention. 'Shit,' Bakura hissed and pulled away from the broken and bleeding boy. He grabbed the Millennium Ring from Atemu's weak grip.
'It's the Thief King!' someone shouted.
'And he has the Ring!'
'The Prince!' a female voice shrieked. 'He has been...'
Bakura smirked. 'Well, this has been fun.' He put the Ring on and began to fade into the shadows. 'I'm sure I'll be seeing you again, my Prince.' And then he vanished.
The last things Atemu saw before he lost consciousness were several of the high priests rushing over to him. He heard a muffled 'You'll be okay,' by Karim, and saw his uncle standing off to the side with a horrified expression on his face, realising what had happened, and why...