Love From Hell

As the alarm screamed for me to awaken from my fitful slumber I jolted out of my bed and toppled to the floor in agony. Crying out I muffled the sobs into the blankets I brought to the floor with my fall. My body ached and each movement sent sharp pain through my body and down to my groin where it exploded in a burst of paralyzing pain. I knew I was alive but it felt as though I was dying.



Scrambling I reached up and grabbed the alarm clock smashing the snooze button with my fist far more times that I really needed before laying my head down on my hand and sobbing, shoulders shaking from my cries. My dream, if that’s what it was, was still so vividly burned into my mind, it was so real I don’t know how a dream… or nightmare really, could hurt you so bad.



I knew that the subconscious could create scary things and that when your mind is in total control your body follows what the brain says if it says your in pain then you hurt and if it says you are cold you shiver. I suppose that when you dream such a real dream as I had then your body goes into reality mode.



I sighed shakily and bit my bottom lip. Every time I closed my eyes I could see his face, that man in my nightmare and his eyes, those deep devious eyes. I just wanted to forget.



All the way to the bathroom I felt the physical pain that my nightmare brought upon my body. It hurt to walk and it even hurt to think. I dropped the blanket to the floor once I was securely locked within the bathroom and examined my slender body in the mirror. Instantly my eyes were wide and I clamped my hand over my mouth. My legs and chest were covered in cuts and bruises but the real reason that I had to stop myself from becoming knocked completely off my rocker was my back.



Those nasty red whip marks showed the horror of what had happened to me in my nightmare. I didn’t understand how the dream could be so real that it’d hurt me in such a horrible manner. The one thing that I could think of was stigmata, which was recently all over the news. Some young catholic girl devoted herself to god and bore the marks of Christ on her hands and feet and ran about the cathedral rejoicing for she believed that God had chosen her for a most special purpose.



But this was hardly stigmata… unless God decided to have me bare the whippings that Christ bore. However, that seemed too farfetched to believe. Or perhaps this nightmare of mine was real indeed, but I refused to allow my imagination to run with such a creation.



Despite being riddled in wounds I stepped into the shower and began to wash myself. Oh, how it hurt! I leaned against the shower wall watching as the bloody water poured down the drain. There was no way I was going to stay in this water very long with my body wounded so. Therefore, I quickly washed my hair and got out and, as gently as I could, I dried myself off with my towel. It might have been better to put medication on the wounds on my back but there was no way that I would ask my father to do such a thing, he’d be worried and upset and wonder just what the hell I was doing last night.



No, I couldn’t do that to him.



Instead I simply wrapped myself in bandages and medicated the wounds that I could get to then retreated quickly to my bedroom. And, as I searched my closet, I was never happier that it was fall weather. It would seem rather odd, for me of course, to be walking around in winter type clothing in the middle of a disgusting Domino summer. My father would know right then and there that something was wrong with me. That was something I wasn’t willing to elude to though I truly didn’t want him to go, this dream terrified me and who knows if it would be a recurring dream, what would I do then?



I put on my jeans and eased on a white button up shirt before pulling on a black sweater with a white gothic style crucifix, which my father brought back from Italy when he was there checking out the ruins, over it pulling my collar of my button up shirt over the collar of my sweater. Standing in front of the full length mirror near my closet I smoothed out wrinkles, wincing slightly as it hurt my stomach to do so.



Perhaps this wasn’t such a good thing… maybe there’s something wrong with me?



The thought of not seeing off my father at the airport fluttered into my head, I was in pain and yet I very much wanted to see him off.



Why see him off when he clearly could care less about a whimpering little baby like you?



I gasped sharply and shook my head, where could that thought have come from? How could I think such a nasty thing?



Sitting on the edge of my bed I held my head in my hands as I heard the familiar maniacal laughter I had in my nightmare. It resounded in my head as if bouncing of the walls of my psyche. My grip on my head became tighter.



I was so lost in trying to stop the laughter in my head I didn’t even hear the knock that had come to my door or my father’s voice as he spoke my name in his tender caring voice. My body jolted and the laughter stopped when he put his hand on my back. Instantly his hand retracted and he stared at me, concern written all over his face when he saw me wide eyed and tears streaming down my face.



“Ryou… what’s wrong?”



“Oh father! Please don’t leave me!” I cried throwing my arms around his neck and sobbing into his shirt. I knew he was shocked to see me in such hysterics and after a moment I felt his arms wrap about me and hold me tight against his body, it hurt but I wouldn’t let him know that. The fear I felt that he wouldn’t come home and I’d be left here with nothing but my nightmares was overwhelmingly unbearable!



Over and over I begged him not to leave me but in the end he was going to do so anyways. The car ride to the airport was full of unnerving silence that I thought I might go absolutely insane. When we arrived at the airport the silence continued until we reached my father’s terminal. He turned to me, cupping my face in his hands and kissed my face.



“I love you Ryou. I will write you and call you I swear to it.”



My eyes welled up again with tears but I held back my sobs and simply nodded. “H-Hai… I love you too father…” I managed to get out. There was one more kiss before my father boarded his plane, leaving me for another long period of time. Tears rolled down my face as I gazed out the window watching the plane as it flew down the runway and soared up into the sky.



And just like that he was gone.



I didn’t want to go home; I wanted to stay at the airport forever. I walked about the rather large place and observed the sights, the restaurants and gift shops and cafés of various shapes and sizes, styles and with all sorts of treats. I stopped in one of the little cafés, a quaint little Italian place that smelled of the fresh coffee they had been brewing, and picked myself up a white chocolate mocha and a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie, those are my favorite. However, before long it grew dark and I knew I had to go home, it wasn’t as though my father was going to fly back today and come back for me. So deciding that it was time to leave I got into the car and headed back home.



I promised my father that I would be good so when I stepped into the house I discarded my shoes, setting them on the mat near the door and set foot inside the living room, looking around in a nostalgic and bored manner – though there were plenty of things for me to do. The book I had been reading, The Vampire Armand by Anne Rice which is one of my favorite books so far in the series and of her works. I picked it up and sat down. I hadn’t gotten very far in it unfortunately since I had been working my butt off to get the house ready for my father, who was only going to be staying one damn day!



I let out a heavy sigh. There’s no use dwelling on it now for it would do no good. So I opened my book to chapter four and started reading. Armand, or rather, Amadeo as Marius called him had been told that he’d stay at the brothels to learn about pleasure… or something to that effect, I really can’t exactly remember, but never the less, onward with my reading. I must have been so into my book that I hadn’t even noticed the presence in my living room until I came to a certain part in the book.



I made no protest when they overcame me. I feared no extreme, and even let them bind my wrists and ankles to the bed, so they could better work their craft. It was impossible to fear them. I was crucified with pleasure. Their insistent fingers would not even allow me close my eyes. They stroked my lids, they forced me to look. They brought soft thick down over my limbs. They rubbed oils into all my skin. They sucked from me, as if it were nectar, the fiery sap I gave forth, over and over, until I cried out vainly that I could give no more. A count was kept of my “little deaths” with which to taunt me playfully and I was turned over and cuffed and pinioned as I tumbled down into a rapturous sleep.



I shuddered and suddenly felt a hand run through my hair and down my neck and shoulder. “What an erotic tale you are reading…”



I jolted up dropping the book and spun around to see just who it was that intruded into my home without me knowing. Who I saw made my skin turn cold and my heart fall into my stomach; I wanted to throw up and sob. The man from my nightmare, this creature that couldn’t possibly be human was standing, staring at me!



“W-What are you doing here? Get the hell out or I’ll make you!” I yelled.



He merely laughed and shook his head. “Such words…” He muttered, “From someone so small and weak who couldn’t possibly wield so much as a knife correctly.”



I scoffed and didn’t reply, instead I made an inquiry. “Who are you?”



He placed his hand on his chest as if in surprise that I asked the question. “I?” He questioned before continuing. “Why I am Bakura, prince of all thieves, the most feared among all the grave robbers in golden sands of Egypt. Haven’t you heard the stories little historian? With those books and your father’s occupation one would think you know all there is to know about ancient Egypt.”



I furrowed my brow in confusion. There was no way that this man standing before me could be from ancient Egypt, there was no way that the stories my father told me yesterday were true; they were all myths!



“You’re lying.” I said finally but the approach of the man and the sudden slap across my face told me that he wasn’t.



“Bastard! How dare you accuse me of such!”



Instantly my hand came to my face, covering the red handprint that was now adorning my cheek and burned horribly. I thought that my skin would melt from the heat of the blow. I stared up at him silently before taking a step back. “G-Get out of my h-house…”



He laughed again. “You miserable little wretch, don’t you get it? You obviously haven’t heard the right stories if you are saying such stupid things!”



Now I was confused, no well beyond confused actually. If this man was the one trapped in the ring as my father had said, why couldn’t he leave my house and… then it hit me, how stupid of me to even think that he could just waltz right out of my house when he was eternally bound to the ring until the day he could be freed.



“Ah, so you’ve discovered the reason hm?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well actually I can leave your house but I choose not to, I won’t go anywhere without my ring. Besides, this time it is you who have the honor of setting me free despite your scraggily body.”



“Then take your damned ring and leave me the hell alone!” I yelled suddenly and was once again answered with a slap across the face, this time on the other cheek. I stumbled back at the force of the blow and hit the wall, sliding down it holding my cheek. Both burned horribly that I almost could not stand it.



I really should think before I speak however, I was already upset that my father “deserted” me to go on his silly little dig and now this insane person spirit whatever he is, is starting to create havoc! All I wanted to do was lie down and not get up, not ever.



“Get up.” He commanded in an angry demanding tone. I shook my head refusing to get up. Another bad idea. I felt him grip a fistful of my hair before I yelped, tears welling in my eyes as he pulled me to my feet by my hair. I stood before him with his hand extended and still gripping my hair fiercely.



“When I tell you to do something, you do it.” He sneered shoving me, or rather I should say he threw me at the opposite wall. My head whipped back slamming into the hard wall. I cried out and slid down the wall a faint trail of blood in my wake. I didn’t think he could have thrown me like that but he did, he was supposed to be a spirit; I didn’t understand what was going on.



“You’re a complete idiot.”



I looked up at him, vision blurred and doubled.



“I may be a spirit but that doesn’t mean that I am unable to touch you and do harm to you. Thanks to you I have a body now, a tangible, real body and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”



“I…I can f-fight…” I slurred and stuttered my words as I spoke them.



He laughed.



“You really think that you can fight against me? Ha!” And before I even knew it my world was dark and consciousness was lost. I cannot account for the abuse in which I suffered while I was in and out of consciousness but I know that the sharp whistle of leather creaking was the only warning I received before my back exploded in agony.



I was blindfolded and a ball-gag had been firmly fastened in my mouth. There was a thin line of saliva dripping down from one of the few open air holes, landing in cool drops against my overheated abused flesh.



“Pathetic.” I heard that dark voice spit. “Weakling, you’re nothing.”



I whimpered at the cold, harsh tone, trying to pull my body away from the direction it had come from, but the chains keeping me suspended on my toes allowed for little to no movement.



“Poor little Ryou. Does it hurt?” My double stopped behind me, I was terrified and shook all over. He raised the handle of the whip to caress the lightly bleeding welts on my back, opening some cuts further. A strangled moan of pain escaped through the ball-gag.



“I’ve been trapped in that damned bloody ring for five millennia and I have struggled too long to find the one who entrapped me. And I will be damned if I let a weakling like you defeat me in my pursuits!”



I shivered and tried not to move and draw attention to myself.



“And yet, here you,” He continued, contemptuously, “you are still defying me!” He shouted, walking briskly away from me. I cringed when I felt the brush of air as my mirror image turned. I breathed a small sigh of relief when the whip did not come down on my flesh.



“You know,” He continued conversationally as though we were friends talking over tea and cakes, “I’ve thought about what I was going to do if a situation like this ever came to be.” There was a brief pause. “In the end, I think that simplicity is the key.” His voice echoed slightly, thusly I thought him to be a few yards back.



“And it’s too bad that dear daddy isn’t here to save you from your helplessness this time, just like all the other times in your life.”



I gave a small shiver trying to hide my fear.



“Oh yes, I know all about your past experiences, little Ryou… I know about your childhood and your mother, I know about the dreams you have of your father such erotic incest paint your dreams…” He purred darkly, he was probably grinning wildly. “And your ‘friends’ you have none!” He laughed, madness coloring his voice. “You’ve only had but one friend in your entire life and those friends, so-called, that you tell your father you have, they don’t exist save for in your own little mind.”



A tear trickled down my face. So far I had managed to survive by imagining that my father actually cared and that no one would ever know the secrets that I hide.



“Poor helpless little Ryou.” He mocked. “All alone.” I heard him set the whip down on a table and sift through some things which rested upon the table as well. I wasn’t sure what they were. “You have no one to help you, no friends or family to rescue you.” He picked something up and carried it over to me. I felt him place ankle restraints on my ankles and place a spreader bar between my legs after he had unfastened my ankles from their previous restraints. He ignored my frantic squirming and bucking, and left me suspended above the floor uncomfortably, my arms baring my full weight.



I panicked when I felt him spread my legs. Twisting my body in a futile attempt to keep myself feeling moderately save



It didn’t work.



I felt even more helpless than before. With my legs spread I knew that Bakura, my mirror image, had full access to every part of me.



“What’s the matter Ryou?” He asked in a parody of carrying. “Feeling exposed?”



I instinctively shied away from the smooth voice whispering suddenly in my ear.



There was a moment of silence before I suddenly felt myself being lowered to the floor. The muscles in my arms had long since deadened with the weight of my body and the metal bar between my legs, which meant the landing, was quite painful on the cold stone floor. Before I could move, Bakura fastened a heavy leather collar around my neck. Not a place one, this one was thick and hot.



I heard a clicking sound and forced my body to move, only to find that I couldn’t raise my head more than a foot off the ground.



Bakura chuckled. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you.” He helpfully supplied, unlocking my wrists and refastening them to leather handcuffs seemingly attached to the cold stone floor. I had figured by the stone floor that we were in the basement seeing as our house has hardwood and tile floors. I had been arranged so that I knelt on all fours, my collar fastened to a small hook on the floor, ensuring that I would be unable to move my head more than a foot in either direction. My wrists were completely immobile and another hook and chain were available for Bakura to fasten the spreader bar to the floor.



I heard something open and felt his breath against my back side. “Let’s play.”



I tried to pull away when I felt him reach beneath me, a hand searching for something on my chest. A muffled shriek escaped when something sharp and cold suddenly bit down on my nipple. I jerked and shrieked again when I felt the something bite down on the other nipple. The sensitive flesh was gripped so tightly it bled.



Sharp, drawn breaths could be heard in the silent room as I whimpered, tears slowly sliding down my face even though most were absorbed by the blindfold.



There was a small click.



Suddenly my body convulsed in white-hot flames of burning agony, shooting through me from the things attached to my nipples, oh god how it hurt!! I felt as though I would die from the pain.



“This is no fun.” He knelt down next to me and the small remote clicked off. “I want to hear you scream.”



I sobbed quietly. The waves of pain rippling through my body hadn’t dispersed yet. My muscles shook from the electricity which had been forced into my body. Bakura unfastened the buckle holding the ball-gag in place, around the back of my head. Harsh, gasping sobs suddenly filled the room as I struggled to force air into my deprived lungs.



“That’s better.” He said, retrieving the remote and standing.



“…B…Baku…ura…” I rasped. “P-Pl…ea..se…”



“Please? Please what? Do you want some more?” My mirror image flicked on the remote, relishing the high-pitched screams that echoed around the room.



Again he flicked off the remote, my screams melting into weeping, gulping breathes.



“Do you want to play a game with me, Ryou?” He asked pleasantly, ignoring the fact that he had just tortured me.



“G-gha…me…no…le-t… go…” I begged voice lost amidst my sobs.



“Now, what fun would that be? You played games with me last night so why not play now?” He sneered.



“Pl…Plea..eas-se…fr..ee…me…”



He snorted in derision. “You really think I went to all the trouble of getting here just to let you go?”



“c…c-can’t…w..we…b-be f-fre…frie..nds?...”



Disbelief clung to Bakura’s voice. “Haha, is that what you want?” Bakura snorted. “You’re so naive.”



“Wh…what….do y-you w…want?...”



Bakura smirked and picked up the whip from the table he had set it on, bringing it sharply against my back. I screamed in agony. “I want you bloody and broken." I could not contain the screams that echoed within the room that night, my voice was cracking and Bakura showed me no compassion.



***