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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora	By : NeonTiger Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 12173 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Aurora

By Neon Tiger and
Yuki Ryu

Chapter Thirteen

----

�� It seemed as
if it were a bad omen, or that the Gods were mocking him, for that night Malik
had been made to go to not one, but two of the places on Earth that he never wanted
to see again.� His chase for Bakura had
led him across the desert to the most damned place that the blond had ever had
the misfortune to know: Kuru Eruna.
�� Malik felt a
chill enter his very bones as he approached Kuru Eruna on foot. Moonlight refused to even go near the city,
instead choosing to stay near a cluster of rocks on the outskirts. She paced
unhappily, neighing her distress at the situation.
Malik briefly considered tying her up to prevent her from escaping but then
agonized over what might happen to her if jackals attacked.
�� The decision
was made for him, however, as Dusk had chosen that time to trot up and 'greet'
the mare. Relieved that Bakura's horse was there to watch over his, the young
boy hurried to the dead city while leaving the thief's horse to get to know his
own.
�� Unfortunately
such feelings of relief soon bled out of Malik's body as he went further and
further into the dead town.� During the
day Kuru Eruna was horribly
frightening, but at night it was much, much worse.� The clouds that hung overhead in the sky
blotted out all of the stars, so that bare streaks of moonlight that shone
through were the only source of light.
�� Or rather, the
lavender-eyed boy hoped that it was only streaks of moonlight illuminating the
town.� The light seemed to move in and
out of the edge of his vision in a somewhat unnerving manner, but he dared not
look to see if it was only his imagination.
�� Malik hurried
through the dead streets, trying to find Bakura without looking at anything
else - particularly the bleached bones covering the ground. The entire town
terrified him down to his very core and he wanted to spend as little time there
as possible.
�� Unfortunately
for Malik, Bakura was nowhere in sight.
�� Just when it
seemed like Bakura had simply disappeared into thin air, the young boy heard
voices inside one of the buildings. Relieved at hearing the
first sign of life since he left his horse, Malik hurried to the building and
peered inside.
�� However, it
seemed as if what the blond had thought was a building was simply the remains
of one, with barely more than one wall remaining standing.� This both confused and unnerved him, until he
noticed the set of stairs leading downwards into darkness, which seemed to be
where the faint voices were coming from.
�� Malik
hesitated, a feeling of dread forming deep inside his stomach. However, he knew
the voices could only belong to two people: Bakura and his captive. Thus, the
young boy took a deep breath and ventured into the depths
�� The stairway
led deep down into the earth, so far that the eerie moonlight could not reach
the bottom.� This forced the blond to
step cautiously and keep one hand pressed against the wall, lest he trip and go
tumbling down into the darkness.� The
oppressive, frightening feeling that poisoned the entire village seemed to grow
stronger with each downward step.� It
felt as if his heart were being squeezed slowly as his
senses prickled and his instincts were all but screaming at him to run back up
the stairs and flee from the village now before it was too late.
�� After what
seemed like an infinite amount of steps, Malik arrived at the bottom of the
stairs in a large, dimly lit room. Timidly, the boy peered around the
underground room for any sign of Bakura and his captive. He wanted to find the thief
quickly, so he could leave just as quickly. The weak light trickled through the
shadows, casting barely any light at all.
�� However, Malik
didn't need much light in order to see where there were two people standing
within the massive room.� One sat upon an
altar, which rested atop a set of steps far across the chamber, while another
was writhing at the bottom of those steps awkwardly, likely due to some sort of
bindings.
�� The
lavender-eyed boy also didn't need much light in order to identify the people,
for the one sitting upon the altar seemed to be surrounded by wisps of light
that streaked by him, illuminating his unmistakable silver hair.� The man on the floor was also instantly
identifiable, for when he spoke, it was a voice that Malik would never forget.
�� "I demandthat you
let me go this instant!"
�� Malik felt his
blood run cold as he immediately recognized the voice.
�� It was his
father.
�� "Oi, old man," Bakura laughed lowly, his words barely
reaching Malik's ears from across the expanse of the chamber.� "How many times are you going to repeat
yourself?"
�� "You
can't treat me like this!" the old man roared indignantly.� "Don't you know who I am?!"
�� Malik was
unable to be sure due to the distance that separated him from Bakura, but he
was almost certain that the thief was smiling sinisterly when the silver haired
boy next spoke.
�� "Oh, I
do," Bakura said in a voice that sent shivers up Malik's spine, and not in
a good way.� Slowly the thief rose to his
feet, his gaze never wavering from the bound man.� "I know exactly who you are."
�� Malik crouched
close to the ground and slowly made his way deeper into the temple, trying to
get closer to Bakura. He had a sinking suspicion that Bakura would be angry if
he knew the slave was there - likewise, he had no desire to see his father
again. Still, he had many questions he wanted answered. First and foremost,
what was the thief doing with his father in such a horrible place?
�� The young boy
darted behind a pillar before creeping through the shadows to where the other two
were. He wasn't sure why he didn't just shout out Bakura's name and run to him,
but something inside him told him not to. Instead, he tried to get as close as
he possibly could without being seen.
�� Neither father
nor friend noticed Malik, as both were too focused upon one another.� "You what?" the old man sputtered,
apparently caught off-guard by what the silver-eyed boy had said.� "If you know, then why
have you dragged me out to this gods-forsaken place?!"
�� Now Malik was
close enough to see for certain that his suspicions were correct; Bakura was smiling, but it wasn't simply a
sinister smile.� There was something to
the thief's expression that horribly disturbed the former slave.� The feeling was further compounded when his
friend spoke once more.
�� "Justice."
�� Malik felt as
if his blood had turned to ice water, causing him to tremble all over. His
feelings of dread increased dramatically, just from Bakura's expression.
�� "Justice?"
the old man repeated, utterly baffled by such a statement.� However, confusion quickly became overtaken
by rage again.� "What does this have
to do with justice!?� You broke into my home in the middle of the
night, hit me over the head, kidnapped me, and dragged me out to this
gods-forsaken place!� How is this justice!?"
�� Bakura didn't
answer the elderly man's rant; simply content for the moment to watch Malik's
father's face turn red with anger.� Those
strange foggy wisps of light continued to streak around the room, moving around
him in particular, which seemed to accent the frightening expression on his
face more than the darkness did.� In that
light there was an unmistakable tinge of madness that Malik had never seen
before reflected in Bakura's eyes.
�� Malik felt
incredibly terrified, as Bakura's face was both horrifying and hauntingly
familiar. It reminded him strongly of that one night that seemed like ages ago,
when he was Bakura's captive. It
suddenly made him wonder what Bakura had intended to do to him in this city
before changing his mind.
�� Did he really
want to know?
�� "Answer
me, damn you!" Malik's father shouted as he jerked, struggling as hard as
he could to escape the ropes that bound him.�
He winced then and cringed, as he had moved so hard that he pulled a
muscle in his shoulder.
�� A low chuckle
escaped Bakura, which slowly grew louder and more crazed until he was cackling
with such volume that it echoed everywhere within the massive temple.
�� Malik covered
his ears, as if he thought he could block out the laugh and stop his fear from
bubbling over.
�� The old man instinctively
cringed, as fear started to fill him as well, in spite of his anger and
confusion.
�� Eventually
Bakura's frightening laughter died down, but that terrible demented smile of
his still remained.� "You have no
idea, do you?" he asked, amused in some twisted sort of way.� "Do you even remember your son?"
�� "My son?" Malik's father repeated, taken back by
the question.
�� "Malik."
�� Malik tensed,
eyes widening. Had Bakura seen him!?
�� The elderly
man's eyes widened drastically at the name.�
"What-?" he began to sputter before trying in vain to regain
his composure.� "What are you
talking about?� I have no son!"
�� Malik
flinched, eyes wide. He felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. He
trembled, his head spinning, and slowly slipped to his knees.
�� Bakura slowly
tilted his head as he gazed at his captive, his mad smile becoming a slight
smirk.� "I had a feeling that you
would deny him," he said, giving no indication that he was aware that the
object of their conversation was in the room listening.� "You never treated him like your son
after all.� He was just your
slave."� He paused for a moment as a
peculiar expression crossed his face.� "No, worse than a slave.� He was your 'mistake'."� His
frightening smile returned at this point.�
"Isn't that right?"
�� Malik trembled
all over, covering his mouth lest he make any noises that might alert Bakura to
his position. He felt so confused and sick inside.
�� "I have
no idea what you're talking about!" the abusive father protested, though
his guilt was obvious in his alarmed expression.� "I have no son!� I've only had one child: my daughter,
Isis!"
�� Malik felt hot
tears form in his eyes, his hands moving from his mouth to cover his entire
face. His own father not only disowned him but also denied he was even born?
�� Bakura's smile
grew until his fangs could be seen, even from a distance, which made his
expression rather vicious.� "Is that
so?" he asked before hopping off of the altar.� "You never had a son who your wife gave
her life to give birth to?� A son who you blamed for her death and abused until he was
broken?"
�� "Of
course not!" the old man answered a bit too quickly, his tone vehement.
�� Malik hunched
forward, trying hard to get control over himself.
�� "You're
lying," Bakura said lowly as he moved to stand at the very top of the
stairs.
�� "You're
insane!" Malik's father shouted, trying to gain some control over the
situation.� "A man of my standing
would never do something as horrid as that!�
I treat my servants and slaves well, better than most!� I love my daughter dearly, and if I did have a son like you say I would love
him just as much!� I would never do
something as abhorrent as you accuse me of!"
�� Malik wanted
to curl up and die in a corner somewhere, for all the good it would do.
�� "Liar,"
Bakura said, his voice cold, as he gazed down at Malik's so-called father as if
the man were an insect.� "You and I
both know that you treated him like an abomination.� You forced him to hide his appearance.� You told him everything he touched became
unclean.� You made him work his fingers
to the bone for you, and you used your whip on him every chance you
got!"� By this time his expression
was contorted and filled with barely controlled rage.� "You broke him!� You scarred and stained him!� Now that he's gone you're pretending that he
was never born!� Didn't you ever feel any
guilt at all, even when your daughter asked what happened to her
brother?!"
�� Malik had to
admit he wanted to know the answer as well.
�� "Well, I,
I, I..." the old man stammered, completely stunned by how much the thief
knew.� "How do you
know all this-!?"
�� Bakura was
silent for a number of moments, save for his heavy breathing, as he forcibly
calmed himself down.� One hand rose to
rest against his head, gripping it tightly, as he looked at his captive with a
most peculiar expression.� "I think
you're forgetting... who is in charge
here," he said rather ominously, his voice initially wavering unnervingly,
as he started to descend the stairs.
�� The bound man
started to panic as his captor approached him and tried his best to move away,
though the best he could manage was to squirm like a worm.� "S-st-stay
back-!"
�� Malik peeked
around the pillar to stare at Bakura and his father, tears streaming down his
face. He wasn't sure what was going on anymore, or what Bakura meant, but he
had a feeling he was about to find out.
�� "I
wonder... how many times did you come at Malik with this whip?" Bakura
mused as he pulled out from his robes the whip that he had stolen from Malik's
father.� "Probably
too many times to count." �He
snapped the whip taunt between his hands for emphasis.
�� Malik
instinctively cringed, ducking back behind the pillar away from the hatefully
familiar tool.
�� "Stay
back!" the old man shouted as his struggles became more frantic in
response to the obvious threat Bakura was presenting him with, causing his arms
and legs to ache further due to struggling against their bindings.� "I'm warning you!� Whatever you do to me, you'll get back
tenfold!� My daughter is a priestess to
the Pharaoh himself!� She can send an
entire army after you!"
�� Malik peeked
around the pillar again, eyes wide. What was Bakura going to do to his father?
�� Bakura stopped
moving at the bottom of the steps.� He
stared at the man, and the wisps of light seemed to move faster, as if agitated.� "What?"
�� Sensing that
he had finally gotten some sort of leverage with his captor, Malik's father
tried to sit up, even though his bindings made that nearly impossible.� "That's right," he said with
renewed confidence.� "My daughter is
a priestess to the Pharaoh!� High
priestess in fact!� She was recently
received that honor and one of the seven Millennium Items: the Millennium Torq!� Why, she's
probably already used its power to see the future and probably has already
rallied the entire army to save her beloved father as we speak!"� Finally he managed to get upright, feeling
certain that he now had the upper hand despite his captivity.� "You better let me go unharmed if you
hope to receive any mercy from her or
the Pharaoh!"
�� Malik furrowed
his eyebrows, wondering what his father was talking about.
�� Bakura was
silent, as what he had just been informed of sank in.� Suddenly he began to laugh, much to the
surprise of both Malik and his father.
�� "Wh-what
are you laughing at!?" the old man demanded, his face turning red with
humiliation and anger.� "You won't
be laughing once the Pharaoh's army and his priests arrive!� A wretch like you can't stand up to even one
of the Millennium Items, let alone all seven!�
You better untie me and surrender right now!"� He ground his teeth angrily as the thief
didn't seem to be listening to him anymore.�
"Stop laughing and let me go
right now!"
�� Malik trembled
all over, feeling rather confused and afraid. He was afraid of Bakura as well
as afraid for Bakura - what if his father was right?
�� "I demand that you stop laughing at me now
or I'll-!" the old man started to threaten.
�� "You'll
what?" Bakura suddenly interrupted, ceasing his laughter almost as
abruptly, as he leaned forward towards his captive with that frighteningly demented
expression once again on his face.�
"What will you do to me?"
�� The elderly
man was taken back momentarily at the suddenness, and particularly because of
how the thief leaned in so close, which caused him to instinctively lean
backwards.� "I...� My daughter will-!"
�� "Die," Bakura interrupted once
again, smiling so widely that his fangs were particularly noticeable to the
bound man.
�� Malik's eyes
widened.� However, before he could even
react beyond the initial disbelief, it happened.
�� The mysterious
eerie lights that illuminated the temple seemed to all at once move to converge
upon the old man, swirling about him and even going through him at times.� Malik's father howled in agony as he started
to convulse on the ground, teeth gritted, and eyes wide, as a horrible biting
cold tore at his insides.
�� Malik squeaked
in surprise and jerked back behind the pillar, landing roughly on his rump. "YAH-!?"
�� Fortunately
for the blond, neither his friend nor his father heard him over the sounds of
his father's screams.
�� Bakura
straightened upwards as he took a step back and after a few moments raised one
hand into the air while the other held the whip loosely at his side.� "Not yet, not yet," he said in a
particularly pleased manner, his expression one of perverse pleasure.
�� Shockingly
enough the wisps obeyed the thief's command and ceased their assault, instead
circling Malik's father like a miniature whirlwind.
�� The elderly
man coughed up blood as his body continued to shudder.� He stared up at Bakura with wide, horrified
eyes; more terrified of the thief than anything he had known before.
�� Malik pressed
up against the pillar, trembling all over in fear. He peered around to where
his father and Bakura were, his breathing ragged. His
mind was warring with itself, with part of him wanting to stay hidden while
another wanted to rush to his father's defense. As cruel and horrible as the
man was, he was still his father - even if he denied it.
�� "N-no... st-top-p!" the elderly man croaked as the thief took a
step towards him, his voice weak and rasping due to his screams and the
difficulty he had breathing.
�� "It's
funny," Bakura said, his voice laced with a
twisted sense of amusement as he looked down at his captive.� "If you had shown Malik the slightest
bit of kindness, I would have let you live."
�� "N-no-!" Malik's father shouted, blood dribbling
from his mouth. "P-pleas-se!"� Franticly he tried to think of some way to
save his own life.� "Wh-why ar-re y-you... d-doin-ng th-his?� Wh-hat-t d-do y-you w-wan-nt?"
�� "Justice,"
Bakura said simply, smiling so widely at the wounded man.� "I told you that before."
�� "H-how-?"
the abusive father tried to ask before he broke off, coughing up more
blood.� Every breath was agony for his
damaged body, and each word he spoke multiplied that pain.
�� Malik
trembled, breathing unevenly. His mind was shrieking at him to both rush to his father's side and to stay right where he was.
The problem was, he had no idea what voice to listen
to, so he inadvertently remained still.
�� Bakura watched
the old man vomit blood onto the floor, enjoying the man's suffering
immensely.� "How is it
justice?" he guessed, knowing that his captive likely wasn't going to be
able to finish speaking.� "How is it
justice to torture a son for his mother's sacrifice?� How is it justice for you to treat your
daughter as if she's the sun and your son as if he were the darkness?� How is it justice when a Pharaoh orders his
priests, like your daughter, to slaughter an entire village he rules?"
�� The elderly man
was unable to answer, as his coughing grew more labored.
�� Bakura's
expression seemed to become notably more crazed.� "You will never understand," he
said as he raised the whip into the air.�
"You, the Pharaoh, and all of his people, don't understand the meaning of justice!"� With that he brought the whip down, lashing
at the hated man before him.
�� Malik flinched
back and covered his head, trembling as the sound brought back memories he
really wished he could forget.
�� Malik's father
flinched back as well with a choked cry that caused him to cough and convulse
further.� If he weren't already in so
much agony due to the damage done inside of his body, he would have noticed
that the whip had struck the floor in front of him and never even touched him.
�� "Now you
have a taste of the fear you scarred Malik with," Bakura growled as he
glared at the man before him.� He then
muttered quietly under his breath, and sudden the whip caught fire in his hand
before he dropped it onto the floor in front of his captive.� "You can take this with you to
hell.� The spirits of Kuru
Eruna will escort you there."
�� With that the
wisps of light immediately converged upon the elderly man, filling the temple
with his screams once again.
�� "I would
say that at least you're going to see your precious wife again, but that would
be a lie," Bakura said, his smile returning and steadily growing, as he
watched the spirits rend the hated man before him apart, devouring his life,
and sending his blood flying in all directions.�
This caused quite a bit of it to splatter onto the thief due to his
close proximity, but he barely noticed, and didn't care.� "When you are judged Ammit
is going to eat your sinful soul."
�� Malik cringed,
covering his ears again. He gasped for breath, though it felt like his lungs
weren't retaining any of it. It was as if he were hyperventilating.
�� The screaming
seemed to go on forever and at some point Bakura began to laugh again.� Eventually the screams died, as the man who
made them did, so that all that remained was the thief's insane cackle echoing
off the walls.
�� Malik gasped
heavily as he stared blankly at the wall, his mind still warring with itself
before finally coming to a single thought: his father was dead. His father was
dead and he had done nothing to stop it. His pupils shrank in size as his eyes
widened, tears still pouring down his cheeks.
�� Something
bubbled up inside of him, from the depths of his stomach up through his chest
to his throat. He felt a small noise escape him, which quickly turned in to a
loud scream.
�� Malik held his
head as he screamed, curling up in to a ball as he snapped his eyes shut.
�� He was lost
within his screaming, driven temporarily insane by his father's death.� So he didn't notice the sudden intense cold
that hit him as the spirits that devoured his father came for him, now aware of
his presence because of his scream.� He
wasn't aware that Bakura cried out for them to stop and rushed over to him as
they retreated.� He wasn't even aware
that his friend was holding him, even shaking him slightly to try and return
him to awareness.
�� It wasn't
until he received a sharp slap to his cheek that he finally stopped screaming.
�� Malik jerked,
his eyes snapping open as his mouth snapped shut. He stared blankly at nothing
for a moment, before his eyes slowly started to focus. Almost immediately, the
face of Bakura came into view from the haze.
�� Bakura felt
relief, as his friend seemed to start coming back to himself.� "Malik?" he asked, still uncertain
if the blond was fully coherent yet.�
"Are you alright?"
�� Malik made an
unintelligent noise, as he grew more aware of himself. He paused before
staring, gawking at the red fluid - his father's blood - that coated Bakura's
clothes.
�� Bakura had a
fairly good idea of why his lover was so stunned, and he was certain that Malik
had witnessed his father's death.� The
only thing he wasn't certain was when his friend got there or how Malik knew to
find him in Kuru Eruna in
the first place.� Those minor details
could wait until later, however, as he had to make sure to keep the blond from
snapping again.� "Malik!" he
said firmly as he moved so that he was gazing closely into Malik's lavender
eyes, hoping that by making his friend concentrate on his eyes that the other
boy wouldn't focus so much on the blood.�
"Are you hurt?"
�� Malik tensed
slightly, breathing heavily as he stared at Bakura. He muttered something
incoherent as his body started to tremble again. He couldn't articulate any
real words, as only the sounds of his father's dying screams echoed in his mind.
�� Bakura let out
a frustrated sigh, realizing that his lover was still in shock, traumatized by
what had just happened.� "Come on,
let's go home," he said as soothingly as he could before he reached out to
take Malik into his arms.
�� Malik grasped
Bakura's shirt as he was picked up off the ground. He made rather distressed
noises as he felt the blood ooze between his fingers, a literal reminder of
what was going through his mind.
�� "Just
keep looking at my face," Bakura murmured soothingly as he carried Malik
towards the doorway.� "Don't think
about what happened."� Unfortunately
he knew that it would be impossible to keep his friend from thinking about it.
�� Malik simply
whimpered, snapping his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see the blood or the
horror of the room anymore.
�� Bakura sighed
quietly, but said nothing, as he carried his lover up the stairs and away from
the site of death.
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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora