Post by Rockinmuffin on Jun 26, 2006 14:26:27 GMT -5
Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Yugioh. Rub it in my face why don’cha?! JERK! *Runs off and cries in a dark corner*
Page 5
Deciding that you had been through enough for one night, you decided to take the bus home. The irritable chain-smoking bus lady grumbled at you as you stepped on the bus, but promptly shut her mouth when you pulled out a dollar from your duffel bag to pay the bus fare, accidentally letting her get a glimpse of your security tag and your gun. You snickered to yourself as you took a seat at the back of the bus, waving politely to the bus lady with an overly cherry smile.
Wow, first you shoot a man in the foot and now you’re already scaring poor bus drivers. You’re a scary person… But you make the authoress very proud! xD
Once the bus lady started driving again, though every once in a while she would look back at you through her rear view mirror to make sure you didn’t suddenly go on a murderous rampage, you sat back and relaxed against your seat. It had been a long night and you couldn’t wait to go home, eat half a carton of ice cream, and fall asleep while sitting in front of the television. Ah, the life of a slob; the most simple and envied life of all lives.
In no time, the bus arrived at your stop, less than a block away from your shabby apartment building. As soon as you stepped off the bus it sped away down the streets, never to be seen by the likes of you again.
You sighed and looked at the spot where the bus had been only moments before, a fake pout residing over your features. “Why do people run from me?” You chuckled to yourself as you started walking down the street, your shabby apartment building already in your sight. In no time, you reached the steps of the nearly rundown old building that (sadly) you called home. Searching through your massive duffel bag of goodies, you pulled out a shiny golden key which greatly contrasted with the pathetic excuse for a building that it unlocked.
You took a moment to marvel over the shininess of the key, looking over it carefully and etching every miniscule detail in your mind. You slowly broke out of your strange dream-like trance, then used the key to open the door.
After climbing seven flights of stairs (because it was just your luck that the elevator had broken down earlier that afternoon) you finally arrived in your own little shabby apartment room. Panting and sweating, you threw your duffel bag across the room (you ignored the loud smash that indicated you had broken yet another lamp) and collapsed onto the couch. With a great skill and grace that most people could only dream of, you slipped your shoes off and set them down on the floor using only your feet. Within seconds you were fast asleep.
You found yourself in the oddest of places; a bowling alley. You, being one to not question what was happening and just go with the flow, picked up a bowling ball and hurled it at the pins. Without warning, the pins turned into penguins and moved out of the way, glaring at you all the while.
“Aww man, gutter ball!” you growled at yourself, then crossed your arms and pouted.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but it appears you have my burrito on your head. May I have it back?”
You looked to your right to see a man with white hair and reddish-brown eyes. As you looked closer, you realized it was the man that tried to rob the Domino Museum. You then quirked your eyebrow as you pulled a strange object off your head.
You stared down at the object curiously, then turned towards the man. “This isn’t a burrito, it’s an enchilada.”
“Then you win the grand prize!” he screamed excitedly as he transformed into a magical chibi, throwing confetti in the air and blowing a cheap New Years party horn.
Your eyes sparkled excitedly. “What’d I win, what’d I win?!”
“You won a lifetime supply of chocolate pudding! And…” his chibified eyes suddenly took on a dangerous look as he smirked up at you. Your eyes widened as he pulled an overly-large axe out of his pocket. “Your doom!” he screamed as he swung for your head.
You screamed and just barely jumped out of the way in time to prevent your untimely demise by the sadistically adorable chibi-burglar. As you tried to run away, you slipped on a penguin and fell to the ground. This angered the penguins so they pecked your face off and the evil chibi laughed as he devoured your lifetime supply of chocolate pudding.
You came to with a start, your head snapping up off the couch cushion and your eyes darting back and forth as you searched throughout the room, trying to spot some sort of threat as your eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Once your weary eyes fully adjusted to the lack of light you realized that there was nothing there. All that was there was the broken lamp lying on the carpet from when you carelessly threw your duffel bag, the glass scattered around the floor. You sighed disdainfully, then allowed your head to collapse back on the couch cushion.
Your head immediately shot up again as you realized the cushion was now covered entirely in your drool. You growled to yourself as you used your arm to wipe off the drool that now covered your chin. Then you turned the pillow over so you could lie on the side that wasn’t drenched in your slobber.
“No more potato chips late at night for me” you grumbled as you shut your eyes and tried to relax, though your body seemed intent on disobeying your request. Your body remained tense, alert, and prepared for anything.
Which, in hindsight, was a good thing, considering it enabled you to roll out of the way just in time to dodge the knife that would’ve embedded itself in your skull if your body had been too relaxed to move. Instead, the sliver of sharpened metal ripped a rather large hole in your couch.
You rolled away from the couch, getting at a safer distance away from your attacker, then stood up. You glared at the darkened figure of a man and crossed your arms as you pouted childishly, despite the seriousness of the situation. “That couch was expensive…” Your eyes darkened significantly and the right side of your face twitched. “I certainly hope you have enough money to pay for it” you hissed.
Though you couldn’t see the figure’s face, you knew he must’ve been confused by your behavior. Your life was in danger yet all you could think about was your damaged couch? Perhaps you should rethink your priorities…? Then again, that was a pretty awesome couch, and your odd behavior has not only proved to be entertaining but it has also successfully distracted your assailant. Ha! See! Your weirdness is useful after all! And your parents wanted you to go to therapy! Pfffffft! You sure showed them!
Let this be a lesson to all of you who think you may be insane. Remember kiddies, you don’t suffer from insanity… you enjoy every bit of it! xD Besides, sanity is overrated anyway.
Now, back to the problem at hand…
The figure seemed to gather up his wits and you saw the gleam of his sharp canines as he smirked sinuously at you, the thin layer of saliva on his teeth enough to make his incisors shine in the darkened room. “Don’t worry, my dear; that damaged couch of yours is the least of your worries.” You couldn’t help but gulp as the man lifted his blade, allowing the moonlight to reflect off its surface and provide it with a dangerous luster.
Seeing your reaction, he smirks. It’s obvious that the mere sight of your fear brings him some strange sort of excitement, one that only a psychotic madman could understand. Whether he did it to increase your sense of fear or to add dramatic tension, the man stepped closer to you, allowing the moonlight that filtered through your windowpane to envelop him in its glow.
He truly was a dangerous, terrifying man. He stood tall; you were never good with measurements but you were more than sure that you probably would only reach up to his chest. His skin had a dark, caramel tan that looked quite nice over his tight, well-toned body. His eyes were the most peculiar lavender color and no matter how hard you looked you failed to find any sign of his pupils. His features were very sharp; a pointed nose, thin cheekbones, strange dark markings around his eyes; if it weren’t for the strange veins on his face he would’ve looked extremely young. Last but not least, his hair was a mass of sandy blonde spikes that stuck up dangerously like a porcupine when threatened. It seemed that even the laws of gravity dared not to mess with this man and his hair was proof of this theory.
“…I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?”
The man nodded his head, a bemused look taking over his features as he stared down at your frightened figure. His lavender eyes flashed with bloodlust as he soaked in your fear like some sort of evil porcupine sponge of doom. “Indeed.”
The strange man started to walk closer and closer; you felt sweat start to trickle down your forehead in nervousness and you frantically backed away, thinking of any possible way you could stall this man and delay the inevitable. “Uhhh… before you carve me up like a Thanksgiving Turkey, could you at least tell me your name?”
“Marik” he stated without hesitation and without faltering in his relentless trek towards you.
One step back.
“Wouldn’t you like to know my name?” you rasped out nervously.
One step closer.
“I don’t care.”
One step back.
“It’s _____, you know, just in case you were curious…”
One step closer.
“I still don’t care.” He glared at you, telling you with his eyes that he was growing tiresome with your shenanigans. Of course, you figured that it was better to be alive with a tiresome psycho than dead with a satisfied one.
But you were running out of ideas...
One step back, your back pressed against the wall.
…And you were already out of floor space.
You stared up into those dark eyes of his and you felt as if you were staring at the face of death itself. He looked down at you with a sickening expression, licking his lips in sadistic anticipation as he fed on your fear with his eyes alone. You gulped nervously and your vision became blurry as your eyes started to water. Tears of fear tried to slide down your cheeks but you made sure to hold them in; you didn’t want to give Marik the satisfaction of knowing how utterly terrified you felt. Instead, you decided to concentrate on your anger.
“Why are you doing this?!” you shouted, glowering at his amused sneer. “What is it that you want with me?!” You fought the urge to smash your back even further against the wall as he stepped closer to you, his face so close to yours that your noses were nearly touching. “Or maybe you’re just some sadistic bastard that has no reason to kill and you just do it for fun…”
He snorted disdainfully, the rush of air coming from his nostrils strong enough to blow your bangs gently. “Oh puh-leaze! Everyone has a reason to kill; some people just have better reasons than others.” He now made sure to hold the knife up high, drawing your attention towards the glinting instrument of death. “Just consider this a favor for a friend. He would take care of you himself but he’s currently incapacitated at the hospital due to that little stunt you pulled off at the museum.”
Your eyes widened. “You’re killing me because I shot your friend in the foot?!”
“Well… yes, more or less.”
“…I hate karma” you grumbled to yourself which caused Marik to chuckle darkly at your predicament.
“So, _____, any last requests?”
“Let me live?” you questioned hopefully, your eyes shining brightly.
He laughed; a cold, mocking laugh. “Besides that, but nice try.”
You sighed mournfully. You were running out of options and running out of time. …And by the look of the faint scowl on Marik’s face and the ever-closing gap between you and his blade, Marik was running out of patience.
So, oh-so-clever one, how are you gonna get yourself out of this one?
Seduce Marik on page 10
Fight for your life on page 11
Page 5
Deciding that you had been through enough for one night, you decided to take the bus home. The irritable chain-smoking bus lady grumbled at you as you stepped on the bus, but promptly shut her mouth when you pulled out a dollar from your duffel bag to pay the bus fare, accidentally letting her get a glimpse of your security tag and your gun. You snickered to yourself as you took a seat at the back of the bus, waving politely to the bus lady with an overly cherry smile.
Wow, first you shoot a man in the foot and now you’re already scaring poor bus drivers. You’re a scary person… But you make the authoress very proud! xD
Once the bus lady started driving again, though every once in a while she would look back at you through her rear view mirror to make sure you didn’t suddenly go on a murderous rampage, you sat back and relaxed against your seat. It had been a long night and you couldn’t wait to go home, eat half a carton of ice cream, and fall asleep while sitting in front of the television. Ah, the life of a slob; the most simple and envied life of all lives.
In no time, the bus arrived at your stop, less than a block away from your shabby apartment building. As soon as you stepped off the bus it sped away down the streets, never to be seen by the likes of you again.
You sighed and looked at the spot where the bus had been only moments before, a fake pout residing over your features. “Why do people run from me?” You chuckled to yourself as you started walking down the street, your shabby apartment building already in your sight. In no time, you reached the steps of the nearly rundown old building that (sadly) you called home. Searching through your massive duffel bag of goodies, you pulled out a shiny golden key which greatly contrasted with the pathetic excuse for a building that it unlocked.
You took a moment to marvel over the shininess of the key, looking over it carefully and etching every miniscule detail in your mind. You slowly broke out of your strange dream-like trance, then used the key to open the door.
After climbing seven flights of stairs (because it was just your luck that the elevator had broken down earlier that afternoon) you finally arrived in your own little shabby apartment room. Panting and sweating, you threw your duffel bag across the room (you ignored the loud smash that indicated you had broken yet another lamp) and collapsed onto the couch. With a great skill and grace that most people could only dream of, you slipped your shoes off and set them down on the floor using only your feet. Within seconds you were fast asleep.
You found yourself in the oddest of places; a bowling alley. You, being one to not question what was happening and just go with the flow, picked up a bowling ball and hurled it at the pins. Without warning, the pins turned into penguins and moved out of the way, glaring at you all the while.
“Aww man, gutter ball!” you growled at yourself, then crossed your arms and pouted.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but it appears you have my burrito on your head. May I have it back?”
You looked to your right to see a man with white hair and reddish-brown eyes. As you looked closer, you realized it was the man that tried to rob the Domino Museum. You then quirked your eyebrow as you pulled a strange object off your head.
You stared down at the object curiously, then turned towards the man. “This isn’t a burrito, it’s an enchilada.”
“Then you win the grand prize!” he screamed excitedly as he transformed into a magical chibi, throwing confetti in the air and blowing a cheap New Years party horn.
Your eyes sparkled excitedly. “What’d I win, what’d I win?!”
“You won a lifetime supply of chocolate pudding! And…” his chibified eyes suddenly took on a dangerous look as he smirked up at you. Your eyes widened as he pulled an overly-large axe out of his pocket. “Your doom!” he screamed as he swung for your head.
You screamed and just barely jumped out of the way in time to prevent your untimely demise by the sadistically adorable chibi-burglar. As you tried to run away, you slipped on a penguin and fell to the ground. This angered the penguins so they pecked your face off and the evil chibi laughed as he devoured your lifetime supply of chocolate pudding.
You came to with a start, your head snapping up off the couch cushion and your eyes darting back and forth as you searched throughout the room, trying to spot some sort of threat as your eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Once your weary eyes fully adjusted to the lack of light you realized that there was nothing there. All that was there was the broken lamp lying on the carpet from when you carelessly threw your duffel bag, the glass scattered around the floor. You sighed disdainfully, then allowed your head to collapse back on the couch cushion.
Your head immediately shot up again as you realized the cushion was now covered entirely in your drool. You growled to yourself as you used your arm to wipe off the drool that now covered your chin. Then you turned the pillow over so you could lie on the side that wasn’t drenched in your slobber.
“No more potato chips late at night for me” you grumbled as you shut your eyes and tried to relax, though your body seemed intent on disobeying your request. Your body remained tense, alert, and prepared for anything.
Which, in hindsight, was a good thing, considering it enabled you to roll out of the way just in time to dodge the knife that would’ve embedded itself in your skull if your body had been too relaxed to move. Instead, the sliver of sharpened metal ripped a rather large hole in your couch.
You rolled away from the couch, getting at a safer distance away from your attacker, then stood up. You glared at the darkened figure of a man and crossed your arms as you pouted childishly, despite the seriousness of the situation. “That couch was expensive…” Your eyes darkened significantly and the right side of your face twitched. “I certainly hope you have enough money to pay for it” you hissed.
Though you couldn’t see the figure’s face, you knew he must’ve been confused by your behavior. Your life was in danger yet all you could think about was your damaged couch? Perhaps you should rethink your priorities…? Then again, that was a pretty awesome couch, and your odd behavior has not only proved to be entertaining but it has also successfully distracted your assailant. Ha! See! Your weirdness is useful after all! And your parents wanted you to go to therapy! Pfffffft! You sure showed them!
Let this be a lesson to all of you who think you may be insane. Remember kiddies, you don’t suffer from insanity… you enjoy every bit of it! xD Besides, sanity is overrated anyway.
Now, back to the problem at hand…
The figure seemed to gather up his wits and you saw the gleam of his sharp canines as he smirked sinuously at you, the thin layer of saliva on his teeth enough to make his incisors shine in the darkened room. “Don’t worry, my dear; that damaged couch of yours is the least of your worries.” You couldn’t help but gulp as the man lifted his blade, allowing the moonlight to reflect off its surface and provide it with a dangerous luster.
Seeing your reaction, he smirks. It’s obvious that the mere sight of your fear brings him some strange sort of excitement, one that only a psychotic madman could understand. Whether he did it to increase your sense of fear or to add dramatic tension, the man stepped closer to you, allowing the moonlight that filtered through your windowpane to envelop him in its glow.
He truly was a dangerous, terrifying man. He stood tall; you were never good with measurements but you were more than sure that you probably would only reach up to his chest. His skin had a dark, caramel tan that looked quite nice over his tight, well-toned body. His eyes were the most peculiar lavender color and no matter how hard you looked you failed to find any sign of his pupils. His features were very sharp; a pointed nose, thin cheekbones, strange dark markings around his eyes; if it weren’t for the strange veins on his face he would’ve looked extremely young. Last but not least, his hair was a mass of sandy blonde spikes that stuck up dangerously like a porcupine when threatened. It seemed that even the laws of gravity dared not to mess with this man and his hair was proof of this theory.
“…I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?”
The man nodded his head, a bemused look taking over his features as he stared down at your frightened figure. His lavender eyes flashed with bloodlust as he soaked in your fear like some sort of evil porcupine sponge of doom. “Indeed.”
The strange man started to walk closer and closer; you felt sweat start to trickle down your forehead in nervousness and you frantically backed away, thinking of any possible way you could stall this man and delay the inevitable. “Uhhh… before you carve me up like a Thanksgiving Turkey, could you at least tell me your name?”
“Marik” he stated without hesitation and without faltering in his relentless trek towards you.
One step back.
“Wouldn’t you like to know my name?” you rasped out nervously.
One step closer.
“I don’t care.”
One step back.
“It’s _____, you know, just in case you were curious…”
One step closer.
“I still don’t care.” He glared at you, telling you with his eyes that he was growing tiresome with your shenanigans. Of course, you figured that it was better to be alive with a tiresome psycho than dead with a satisfied one.
But you were running out of ideas...
One step back, your back pressed against the wall.
…And you were already out of floor space.
You stared up into those dark eyes of his and you felt as if you were staring at the face of death itself. He looked down at you with a sickening expression, licking his lips in sadistic anticipation as he fed on your fear with his eyes alone. You gulped nervously and your vision became blurry as your eyes started to water. Tears of fear tried to slide down your cheeks but you made sure to hold them in; you didn’t want to give Marik the satisfaction of knowing how utterly terrified you felt. Instead, you decided to concentrate on your anger.
“Why are you doing this?!” you shouted, glowering at his amused sneer. “What is it that you want with me?!” You fought the urge to smash your back even further against the wall as he stepped closer to you, his face so close to yours that your noses were nearly touching. “Or maybe you’re just some sadistic bastard that has no reason to kill and you just do it for fun…”
He snorted disdainfully, the rush of air coming from his nostrils strong enough to blow your bangs gently. “Oh puh-leaze! Everyone has a reason to kill; some people just have better reasons than others.” He now made sure to hold the knife up high, drawing your attention towards the glinting instrument of death. “Just consider this a favor for a friend. He would take care of you himself but he’s currently incapacitated at the hospital due to that little stunt you pulled off at the museum.”
Your eyes widened. “You’re killing me because I shot your friend in the foot?!”
“Well… yes, more or less.”
“…I hate karma” you grumbled to yourself which caused Marik to chuckle darkly at your predicament.
“So, _____, any last requests?”
“Let me live?” you questioned hopefully, your eyes shining brightly.
He laughed; a cold, mocking laugh. “Besides that, but nice try.”
You sighed mournfully. You were running out of options and running out of time. …And by the look of the faint scowl on Marik’s face and the ever-closing gap between you and his blade, Marik was running out of patience.
So, oh-so-clever one, how are you gonna get yourself out of this one?
Seduce Marik on page 10
Fight for your life on page 11
Ever notice how the word "therapist" is just "the" and "rapist" put together? Think about it. 