Brothers

The sound of the whip hurt him more than the sting of it's touch. The loud crack reminded him that no matter what, he was trapped here. It resonated in his brain, an endless echo of mockery. Blood welled up on his back, dripping down in an angry river, mixing with his sweat. He refused to cry out. His tormentors would only taunt him more. What was left of his pride was swallowed however, when he came face-to-face with HIM. The cruel, horrid man that had trapped him in this hell. HE would visit, and speak words of pity and comfort. Lies. All lies. HE would stare him down with those piercing eyes, and somehow, those eyes reduced him to a whimpering animal far better than the whips, knives, or harsh blows that the tormentors gave him. It always numbed in the end. But those eyes never dulled in the shreds of his mind. Another blow landed on his back, breaking his train of thought. Then another. And another. He bit his lip. Soon, the blows subsided, and one of the tormentors approached him with a jug of water. He opened his mouth, and the tormentor sloppily poured it onto his face. He greedily lapped up what he could, and welcomed the coolness it brought to his face. The next tormentor brought scraps of old meat for him. The tormentor dropped it on the ground, and he was made to eat it like a dog, hands forced behind his back. It made no difference to him, the best he could do was accept it, because if he didn't, he would starve until he was willing to beg for it.

He didn't like begging. The tormentors went back to beating him. And then HE arrived.

"I'm sorry, little brother." HE said. Those piercing eyes made him uncomfortable. He shut his eyes, trying to block them out.

"Forgive me...."

Yami awoke with a start, chills running down his spine. The dream had disturbed him greatly, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't remember what the strange man's face looked like, only those intense eyes. He stumbled out of bed, and over to the full body mirror on the wall. His skin was unhealthily pale, and his dark purple eyes had even darker circles underneath them. His clothes were rumpled and his hair scarily resembled Mariku's. He was thin, and he distantly wondered when the last time he ate was.

/No wonder Yugi's worried.../ He thought. Slowly shuffling, he went back to bed, and this time, to his relief, no dream came.