The Jail
folder
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
823
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
823
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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.
The Jail
Disclaimer:
I own neither Yu-Gi-Oh nor Silent Hill, and I'm aware that it's quite a random crossover, but.. Yeah... Ah well... Here's the link to the reason I wrote it, and I warn you, it's big... And not mine... I wish I could do art like that... http://www.deviantart.com/view/31386985/
---
It's a location I haven't seen before... Something that mingles several places from game and movie. The blood-bathed chain links, against a blood splattered stone wall, heavy iron doors indoors... Dark... Light is cast from the other sides of the doors, peering around the cracks, and through the small, barred windows, flickering, firelight... It seems to be some sort of jail...
Marik is walking down the hall, one hand running slightly over the chain links for a moment, before bringing the hand up to be inspected. He's... Curious... Doesn't really know where he is... Walking very slowly. He stops in the flickering patch of light from one of the cell windows, rubbing the slightly congealed blood between his fingers, one brow raised.
The flickering light catches slight distress across his features. Wherever he is, there's fresh blood spilt, yet the smell is so damn strong, and everywhere, that he didn't recognize it. Looking from side to side, he reaches into the deep purple cloak, drawing out the Rod for defense. Whatever spilt the blood is likely still around. Senses perked, he notices a quiet sound, far off...
A few moments, and the noise is identified. The sound of metal upon stone, grinding, shrieking slightly. A few more moments, and he notices that it's getting louder... Closer... The echoes through the narrow corridor make it impossible to tell where it's coming from, and so, the Rod held forth, he begins again, in the same direction as before, at the same pace.
The noise is getting steadily louder, and he begins to doubt going forward. The thump of heavy footsteps can be heard. Even the confident spirit is getting unnerved by the place, his eyes glancing furtively. The flickering light in the door he's passing goes out, and he jolts to the side, pressing his body against the bloodied links, Rod brandished... The rattle can be heard echoing down the hall.
His breathing is heavier than he'd like; nothing should scare him like this. The noise had stopped at the rattle, but then... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump... By all rights, the sound was quieter than it should have been, considering whatever was making it was on the other side of the door. Scraaapethumpscraaapethump... And any moment it would break through... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump...
And still nothing... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump... He realizes that the light going out wasn't connected to the thing making the noise... With a shake of his head, and a slight growl, he peels himself away from the links, oblivious to the new coat of blood that had dripped onto it, and him, while the old coat had dried itself to the cloak... He begins to walk again... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump...
His posture doesn't belie the fact that he wishes to turn right around and bolt like the hounds of Hell themselves were nipping at his heels. Honestly, he's terrified... It's a strange place, strange sounds, not at all where he'd gone to sleep... The strong scent of blood was getting to even him, who had killed before, the fresh coat noticeable, worse... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump...
As he walks, his furtive glances begin to increase in frequency, lavender orbs darting almost non-stop now, the sound growing so loud it surely must be upon him. Scraaapethumscraaapethump... And then, the flickering light at the door beside him was obscured. He froze, the sound stopped... And everything seemed to hold still for a matter of seconds. The only sound was the soft pat-pat of blood.
The Rod was held out, defensively, towards the dimmer door. A soft groaning sound was heard, a clank of metal on stone, and the spirit took a step back... A smart move too, as, with an ungodly screaming sound, a massive sword, at least three feet long, burst through the thick, iron door as if it was nothing more than paper. With metallic shrieking, the blade was pulled sideways through the door.
One lavender eye gave a twitch at the sight of the blade coming within inches of his body, and he presses against the chain link once more. As the blade reaches the edge of the door, it is twisted, and, with a shriek, peels upwards, through a hinge, and then hooks back around and up, more metallic screaming pealing down the corridor as it is ripped backwards, the spirit now seeing the creature.
An actual shudder hit him then, staring at a figure, mostly human, wearing what appeared to be a large, heavy-canvas butcher’s apron, white rubber gloves, and holding a gigantic meat cleaver, at least three feet by one, that now had a very large, thick, iron door twisted around it. Well, the door wasn't there for long, with a flick of a wrist, and a deafening crash, it went flying behind the demon.
He did something then he never would have expected himself to do. He turned and ran. A grinding growl was heard form the figure, and a thumping followed him, footsteps faster, gaining on him. The Rod was grasped in both hands, and he whirled, beginning to unsheathe it. All he saw, however, was the cleaver ripping through the air, followed by a blinding flash of light, and an explosion of pain...
His body bounced limply from the chain links near him, the flat of the cleaver having hit him, and dazed him fully. The Rod clattered from his hands, skidding away. Crumpling to the floor, he was sure he was dead, and became very confused when one of those gloved hands snatched his cloak, and lifted him up, in one piece... He was sure he'd been decapitated, but no, he was apparently still alive...
Only now did he track that the plated, almost beaklike thing where the creatures head should be was actually his head, or some sort of helmet, rather than some sort of weapon held in his other hand. This threw the still-dazed spirit for a pause, before he was distracted by the thing slamming him into the chain links, and ramming the blade into the wall behind it, its head tilting.
Both of his eyes were still rolling slightly as he tracked onto the figure. He was beginning to become undazed, and noticed the Rod missing, something that caused him mild panic. The demon's other hand whipped around, taking hold of his cloak just before the first, and tearing it away. Marik finally snapped back into full focus at this, wondering what the creature could be doing, fear in his eyes.
The demons hand snatched a hold of both his shirt and pants, twisting the cloth, and then ripping that away too. The spirit yelped in shock, beginning to understand, and twisted his head downwards, biting as hard as he could into the gloved wrist, his teeth popping through both the latex there, and the skin, causing the demon to drop him. At this, he began to scramble away again.
A bellow of pain was heard from the demon as his prey was dropped, and his bleeding arm was given a cursory inspection before, with a furious, grinding snarl, he bent down, snatching a hold of the most obvious handhold upon the escaping figure... That massive mess of blonde hair. The spirit was lifted up by this single handhold, and slammed back into the links, the metal biting into his cheek.
Marik tries to drag himself free of the grip, his hands winding into the links as he struggled, pain arching from his scalp and cheek, feeling hot blood, his own, running from the cut that had been made there. One of the demon's hands arched back, undoing his apron, and discarding the heavy thing. The sound of the canvas hitting the ground caused the mad spirit to pause, and shake slightly...
The pinned figure began to struggle again, though it was to no avail as the demon moved in, his free hand guiding himself to his prey. He let off a cry of shock, quickly intensifying into a shriek of agony as the demon forced himself inside, tearing flesh along the way, obviously not giving a damn over anything but his own pleasure, pulling back out, and slamming back in without pause.
Marik was shrieking, struggling, opening the wound in his face more, and likely causing himself more pain from the demon's assault than he would have earnt just holding still. The attacker was taking him ruthlessly, and seemingly not tiring, while the spirit shouted himself hoarse, tears running down his face, smearing away the eyeliner so carefully placed.
The demon continued to drive himself into the pinned spirit, grinding moans coming from him, one hand still twined in the blonde hair, while the other was now wrapped in the links near his prey's head. Fortunately for Marik, the demon's violent game had brought him to the edge in a matter of minutes, and he soon spilt his seed within the other, stinging the torn wounds there.
Now finished, he withdrew from the spirit, releasing his hair at the same time to allow the shaking, whimpering figure to slip off the links to the ground. He retrieves his apron, putting it back on, and then his cleaver from the wall, walking away with the sound from before. Scraaapethudscraaapethud. Marik just lays there, in agony, blood running from him mixed with the demons seed.
---
Please Review, I know it's short, and a very odd crossover, but... I enjoyed it, and I want to hear if you did or not
I own neither Yu-Gi-Oh nor Silent Hill, and I'm aware that it's quite a random crossover, but.. Yeah... Ah well... Here's the link to the reason I wrote it, and I warn you, it's big... And not mine... I wish I could do art like that... http://www.deviantart.com/view/31386985/
---
It's a location I haven't seen before... Something that mingles several places from game and movie. The blood-bathed chain links, against a blood splattered stone wall, heavy iron doors indoors... Dark... Light is cast from the other sides of the doors, peering around the cracks, and through the small, barred windows, flickering, firelight... It seems to be some sort of jail...
Marik is walking down the hall, one hand running slightly over the chain links for a moment, before bringing the hand up to be inspected. He's... Curious... Doesn't really know where he is... Walking very slowly. He stops in the flickering patch of light from one of the cell windows, rubbing the slightly congealed blood between his fingers, one brow raised.
The flickering light catches slight distress across his features. Wherever he is, there's fresh blood spilt, yet the smell is so damn strong, and everywhere, that he didn't recognize it. Looking from side to side, he reaches into the deep purple cloak, drawing out the Rod for defense. Whatever spilt the blood is likely still around. Senses perked, he notices a quiet sound, far off...
A few moments, and the noise is identified. The sound of metal upon stone, grinding, shrieking slightly. A few more moments, and he notices that it's getting louder... Closer... The echoes through the narrow corridor make it impossible to tell where it's coming from, and so, the Rod held forth, he begins again, in the same direction as before, at the same pace.
The noise is getting steadily louder, and he begins to doubt going forward. The thump of heavy footsteps can be heard. Even the confident spirit is getting unnerved by the place, his eyes glancing furtively. The flickering light in the door he's passing goes out, and he jolts to the side, pressing his body against the bloodied links, Rod brandished... The rattle can be heard echoing down the hall.
His breathing is heavier than he'd like; nothing should scare him like this. The noise had stopped at the rattle, but then... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump... By all rights, the sound was quieter than it should have been, considering whatever was making it was on the other side of the door. Scraaapethumpscraaapethump... And any moment it would break through... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump...
And still nothing... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump... He realizes that the light going out wasn't connected to the thing making the noise... With a shake of his head, and a slight growl, he peels himself away from the links, oblivious to the new coat of blood that had dripped onto it, and him, while the old coat had dried itself to the cloak... He begins to walk again... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump...
His posture doesn't belie the fact that he wishes to turn right around and bolt like the hounds of Hell themselves were nipping at his heels. Honestly, he's terrified... It's a strange place, strange sounds, not at all where he'd gone to sleep... The strong scent of blood was getting to even him, who had killed before, the fresh coat noticeable, worse... Scraaapethumpscraaapethump...
As he walks, his furtive glances begin to increase in frequency, lavender orbs darting almost non-stop now, the sound growing so loud it surely must be upon him. Scraaapethumscraaapethump... And then, the flickering light at the door beside him was obscured. He froze, the sound stopped... And everything seemed to hold still for a matter of seconds. The only sound was the soft pat-pat of blood.
The Rod was held out, defensively, towards the dimmer door. A soft groaning sound was heard, a clank of metal on stone, and the spirit took a step back... A smart move too, as, with an ungodly screaming sound, a massive sword, at least three feet long, burst through the thick, iron door as if it was nothing more than paper. With metallic shrieking, the blade was pulled sideways through the door.
One lavender eye gave a twitch at the sight of the blade coming within inches of his body, and he presses against the chain link once more. As the blade reaches the edge of the door, it is twisted, and, with a shriek, peels upwards, through a hinge, and then hooks back around and up, more metallic screaming pealing down the corridor as it is ripped backwards, the spirit now seeing the creature.
An actual shudder hit him then, staring at a figure, mostly human, wearing what appeared to be a large, heavy-canvas butcher’s apron, white rubber gloves, and holding a gigantic meat cleaver, at least three feet by one, that now had a very large, thick, iron door twisted around it. Well, the door wasn't there for long, with a flick of a wrist, and a deafening crash, it went flying behind the demon.
He did something then he never would have expected himself to do. He turned and ran. A grinding growl was heard form the figure, and a thumping followed him, footsteps faster, gaining on him. The Rod was grasped in both hands, and he whirled, beginning to unsheathe it. All he saw, however, was the cleaver ripping through the air, followed by a blinding flash of light, and an explosion of pain...
His body bounced limply from the chain links near him, the flat of the cleaver having hit him, and dazed him fully. The Rod clattered from his hands, skidding away. Crumpling to the floor, he was sure he was dead, and became very confused when one of those gloved hands snatched his cloak, and lifted him up, in one piece... He was sure he'd been decapitated, but no, he was apparently still alive...
Only now did he track that the plated, almost beaklike thing where the creatures head should be was actually his head, or some sort of helmet, rather than some sort of weapon held in his other hand. This threw the still-dazed spirit for a pause, before he was distracted by the thing slamming him into the chain links, and ramming the blade into the wall behind it, its head tilting.
Both of his eyes were still rolling slightly as he tracked onto the figure. He was beginning to become undazed, and noticed the Rod missing, something that caused him mild panic. The demon's other hand whipped around, taking hold of his cloak just before the first, and tearing it away. Marik finally snapped back into full focus at this, wondering what the creature could be doing, fear in his eyes.
The demons hand snatched a hold of both his shirt and pants, twisting the cloth, and then ripping that away too. The spirit yelped in shock, beginning to understand, and twisted his head downwards, biting as hard as he could into the gloved wrist, his teeth popping through both the latex there, and the skin, causing the demon to drop him. At this, he began to scramble away again.
A bellow of pain was heard from the demon as his prey was dropped, and his bleeding arm was given a cursory inspection before, with a furious, grinding snarl, he bent down, snatching a hold of the most obvious handhold upon the escaping figure... That massive mess of blonde hair. The spirit was lifted up by this single handhold, and slammed back into the links, the metal biting into his cheek.
Marik tries to drag himself free of the grip, his hands winding into the links as he struggled, pain arching from his scalp and cheek, feeling hot blood, his own, running from the cut that had been made there. One of the demon's hands arched back, undoing his apron, and discarding the heavy thing. The sound of the canvas hitting the ground caused the mad spirit to pause, and shake slightly...
The pinned figure began to struggle again, though it was to no avail as the demon moved in, his free hand guiding himself to his prey. He let off a cry of shock, quickly intensifying into a shriek of agony as the demon forced himself inside, tearing flesh along the way, obviously not giving a damn over anything but his own pleasure, pulling back out, and slamming back in without pause.
Marik was shrieking, struggling, opening the wound in his face more, and likely causing himself more pain from the demon's assault than he would have earnt just holding still. The attacker was taking him ruthlessly, and seemingly not tiring, while the spirit shouted himself hoarse, tears running down his face, smearing away the eyeliner so carefully placed.
The demon continued to drive himself into the pinned spirit, grinding moans coming from him, one hand still twined in the blonde hair, while the other was now wrapped in the links near his prey's head. Fortunately for Marik, the demon's violent game had brought him to the edge in a matter of minutes, and he soon spilt his seed within the other, stinging the torn wounds there.
Now finished, he withdrew from the spirit, releasing his hair at the same time to allow the shaking, whimpering figure to slip off the links to the ground. He retrieves his apron, putting it back on, and then his cleaver from the wall, walking away with the sound from before. Scraaapethudscraaapethud. Marik just lays there, in agony, blood running from him mixed with the demons seed.
---
Please Review, I know it's short, and a very odd crossover, but... I enjoyed it, and I want to hear if you did or not