Dark Light

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Really!

Warnings: Gory yummyness, bad language, yaoi... And, what you've probably all been waiting for! Yup, lemon scene ahead. Mwahah.

Author: Koneko Shido.

A/N: It took me ages to get into the right mood to write this last chapter, but meh, keeping you guys in suspense is FUN!! I know, mean, cruel authoress, right? Heheh. Also, as mentioned above, this chapter contains a LEMON!! Enjoy!

Dark Light 10
[Ryou POV]

"I'm calling the police!" The man growls, snapping back to his senses when I don't make a move from my little spot on the grass. Must everyone jump to conclusions? Although, if this were to ever go to court, the evidence against me would be overwhelming, and my chances of getting off would be about zero.
"Please, you don't understand-" I try, standing up and taking a few steps toward him, the knife still in my hand, dripping blood in slick little droplets onto the grass. He has to believe me, if I get caught at the scene of another murder there's no way the police will let me go. And who will believe my story? I can't exactly tell them a guy who looks just like me and can appear out of thin air is the murderer, can I?
"I don't fucking care!" The man snarls, his eyes fixed on the bodies littering thoundound. "How the hell could you do something like that?!" He continues to keep his horrified eyes on the bloody corpses sprawled on the floor, and I take another step closer.
"It wasn't me, I swear!" I cry, my knees weak. I just want to curl up and die, what the hell does Bakura expect me to do? How could he just drop me in it like this? This way they'll arrest me, I'll get the death penalty, and he'll get off scott f The The man walking his dog snorts at that and looks disgusted.
"You take me for an idiot?" He growls, then turns to walk away towards the nearest houses on the other side of the park.
"Please, wait..." I whisper, but he can't hear me, and he just begins to walk off. Something snaps. I can't let him go, I can't! Suddenly I understand what Bakura wanted me to do, why he gave me this knife. He wants me to kill the witness. He wants me to be like him. I can't... I take another step forward, towards the man, who is walking slowly away because his dog is growling at something, and he has to pull hard on the leash to get the animal to move at all.
If I do this... I'll be just like Bakura. Not insane, because if I were I wouldn't care. Not evil, because that word means nothing now. Just... Free. Free to do whatever the hell I want. I pause, staring down at my bloody reflection in the knife, and see that it looks just like Bakura. I can't see any other way out. If I don't do it, I get the death penalty. If I do it, I'll be with Bakura, always. I suddenly want to see what this man's blood looks like. Is it the same colour as the others? He's older, perhaps it fades in time. That thought strikes me as oddly funny, and I laugh softly into my hand. If I kill him, I'll be leaving behind everything. There will be no more school, friends, no need to stay rooted to this city... I can be free, and all I have to do is beca mua murderer. Everything rides on this. It's life or death for me. Bakura's words echo in my mind again. 'It's all about survival.' I'm not going to die in some disgusting jail for this. I briefly wonder what someone else would do in this situation. Maybe Yugi, or Anzu. What would they do? The right thing, of course. Well I'm not them. I suddenly have a whole new outlook on what the right thing is, and in this case, the right thing to do is be with Bakura. I don't care about anyone else. I think in this moment, I could kill all of them and I wouldn't give a damn. The thought of having nobody to tell me what to do ever again is wonderful. If there is no heaven, why waste my life being a 'good person', when I could give in to my human instinct and do as I please? We're animals, in the end. Predators. n't n't be the prey anymore.
I narrow my eyes, and I'm sure I look a lot like Bakura in that moment, as I run forward and place my hand on the man's shoulder.
"Wait a moment." I say, this time in a much firmer voice, though still gentle compared to Bakura's. I really must stop thinking of him so much, there are far more important things to be concentrating on at present.
"What-" He turns, and before he can finish his sentence I bring the knife up and plunge it into his side. He gives a choked sound of pain and horror, falling to the floor on his back and pressing his hands over the wound to try and stop the blood welling up through his fingers. It's beautiful. It looks almost black in the dim light, and I kneel down over him, straddling his waist, the knife in my hand.
"You may not believe this, and you'd have good reason not to, but I really didn't kill them." I gesture with the knife to the bodies somewhere behind us. He stares up at m ter terror, and I marvel at how wide his eyes are. They're blue, I think. I can't really tell in this light. Not that it really matters. I smile sweetly at him, then raise the knife high above my head and slam it down with all my strength into his chest. He jerks up and his body spasms for a moment before falling still beneath me, his head falling to the side and his eyes still open wide. I stare into them for a moment, then brush my fingers over the lids to close them. Then I pull the knife out, staring at it and laughing softly. The blade has broken, right in the middle. I wonder what Bakura will say about that, I broke his favourite knife. I suppose I should buy him another to make up for it. Although, uld uld just take one, since buying things seems strange after having just killed someone in cold blood.
I stand up, suddenly realising that that dog should have been barking or attacking me by now. I wonder where it went?
"There now, don't you feel better?" A deep voice asks from somewhere to my side, and I turn to see Bakura sitting on the grass nearby, having just killed the dog, from what I can tell. It's lying next to him, barely recognizable. I think he killed it with his bare hands, and I roll my eyes a little. He's such a show-off, really. I'd like to see him kill a tiger with his bare hands, then maybe I'll be impressed. Although, I wouldn't be entirely surprised if he could actually do it. He cocks his head to the side, still waiting for an answer, and I look down at the broken knife in my hand, then back up at him.
"Yes, I do." I admit, raising the broken edge of the knife to my lips to dart my tongue out and lick up a drop of blood. I always wondered what it would taste like. It's salty, I like it.

* * *
[Bakura POV]

Really now, that's very unfair. Licking up that blood like that, right in front of me? Has he any idea how sexy he looks doing that? I'm pretty sure he does. He's doing it again, all the while watching me with these half-lidded brown eyes that look both innocent, and at the same time disturbingly sinful. I love it. Think 'Bambi with a machine gun' and you'll have some idea what I'm babbling about. Except Ryou is about a million times sexier than Bambi, and machine guns tend to take all the fun out of killing people. Too quick. Knives are much better, they give you time to fully appreciate the scene. Speaking of knives, he's broken mine. I really, really liked that knife. I think I should punish him...
I leave that rat-dog thing lying where I snapped it's spine and stalk over to my lovely blood-drenched Ryou, taking hold of his wrist and raising it to look at the jagged, broken edge of my knife he's holding in his pale little hand. I raise an eyebrow at him, smirking.
"I'm going to have to teach you about excessive force." I tell him, and he tries to look innocent, which just makes me want him more. I pluck the knife from his hand and toss it away, then grab his slim little waist and yank him towards me, crushing my lips to his. He tastes like blood, which is wholly unsurprising. He gives in to me right away, and I press him down onto the grass at our feet, moving down to kiss his pale throat and lick up a little more blood that has smeared against his soft skin there. I like him covered in blood. That way I get my two favourite things in one go, I really have to make sure we do this again sometime soon. Murder is all fine and good, but when it's messy and gory it's so much more satisfying.
I rip open his shirt and don't bother removing it, instead just pulling it open so that it hangs at his shoulders while he watches everything I do because I'm pretty sure this is his first time. Not that I really care, though. I kiss and lick my way down his chest as it heaves beneath my lips with his harsh breathing, his fingers clutching at the grass at his sides as I reach his nipples and spend a few moments worrying them with my teeth.
"Bakuraaa..." He moans breathlessly, twisting beneath me. I slowly relieve him of the rest of his clothing and walk my fingers over one soft thigh, watching as he spreads his legs for me. "Get on with it!" He demands as I draw little swirling patterns on his pale stomach in blood. Fine, fine, be like that. Don't let me have my fun, see if I care. Impatient, much? He glares up at me as if he knows what thinthinking as I smirk down at him as innocently as I can manage. He's a lot better at it than I am, though. Years of practice, probably. I'm sure that will come in handy sometime.
Just as he parts his lips to say something I slide my hand down and thrust two fingers inside him without warning, watching in amusement as he throws his head back and cries out, writhing on the grass. I make a scissor motion with them and he arches up from the ground, moaning something obscene that's probably better left unrepeated. Who would have thought he even *knew* that word? I add another finger after a few moments and he begins to pant in time with what I'm doing to him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes closed.
"Please..." He whispers, biting his lip and trembling. Well, I aim to please. Stripping off my clothes, which takes me a few moments, I line myself up and begin to push into him slowly. Then, deciding half way in that the pace needs a nice unexpected change, I slam in the last few inches and he almost screams. Instead he moves up so that I'm kneeling and he's straddling my lap, letting me slide further into him. I can't help but growl in pleasure at that, and he looks pleased with himself, wrapping his arms around my neck and slowly starting to push himself up on his knees, then letting himself fall back down again. I hold his hips and help him move, speeding up the pace a little, and he buries his head in my shoulder, moaning against my skin. Damn, I could do this all day. The sounds he's making are better than any of my sick little fantasies, so I'll have to come up with some new ones at some point. Not that I really need them now that I have Ryou, but everyone needs a hobby, right? All around us there are bodies on the floor, six humans and a dog, I think. I've lost count, and now really isn't a good time to check. I'm kneeling in a pool of blood that's spread out from one of those thugs I killed, and I briefly wonder if blood would make a good lubricant. Not that it really matters at this point, since we didn't really use any, but I might find out at some point.
"Ohh..." He whimpers into my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his side, making him shiver, and take hold of him. He throws his head back and clings to me, his whole body shaking and his cries echoing out through the park. He's almost there, and I can feel release building in me, too. I want to see him first, though. I give him a firm squeeze and thrust up hard into him a few times, and that finally sends him over the edge. He screams, his nails digging into my shoulders, and his body arches like a bow against me. The sight of him shuddering in ecstasy is about all I can take, and white-hot pleasure bursts over me, forcing a savage snarl from my throat.

* * *

We lay in a pool of blood on the grass, and he's curled up against me. We should probably move soon, for the obvious reasons. Ryou seems to know this too, because he rolls onto his back and looks up at me as I stretch out next to him, my finger swirling in the blood I'm lying in. Without saying anything, I move over him and dip my finger in the blood again, then write 'Property of Bakura' on his pale chest. He looks down at it, then scowls a little and dips his own finger in the blood, adding a full stop on the end. Honestly, we've just killed six people and a dog then had sex in a pool of their blood, and he's annoyed about my grammar? And I thought *I* had screwed up priorities. He then writes 'Property of Ryou.' on my chest, in much neater writing than mine, even if it *is* in blood. And he doesn't forget the full stop at the end.
I smirk at him, then get to my feet slowly and help him up, grabbing our blood-drenched clothes. He looks out towards the city lights and I wrap an arm around his shoulder, nuzzling his neck.
"Let's go have some fun, shall we?" I suggest, and he leans in to me.
I take that as a yes.

The End

There, it's finished! I hope that wasn't too disappointing, but I think that out of all Yugi's little gang (And that doesn't include, Marik, Malik and Bakura), the most likely person to be able to kill someone is Ryou. What?? It's always the quiet ones, right? So please review, and tell me what you thought. I've just read the whole fic through again, and come to the conclusion that I'm a very twisted individual. I'd like to know if you agree...