Finely Dressed Sins

Wrath in Lavender

He walked through the darkened alleyways, the same alleys that often had been his home before. Long white hair had been painfully pulled into a tail at the nape of his neck, trademark striped shirt now caked with dirt and grime, like what covered his pale skin in patches. His black trenchcoat stirred slightly in the mild october breeze as he continued to walk, trying to get his thoughts in enough order so that he could figure out what to do from here. His vision kept spotting with reds and blacks as he went from angry, to feeling the need to pass out. His body couldn't handle much more, he already had broken ribs, and he was almost certain he had a concussion as well.

He kept walking until he finally couldn't any longer, his legs failing completely, leaving him sitting on the soiled ground, back resting against the brick wall of the grungy alley. He let his eyes close as he sighed, no longer registering any sort of pain. He didn't have anywhere to go, even if he could leave that alley on his own. Bruised and bloody, he was on his own.

Or so he had thought.

A few minutes after he collapsed, as he faded in and out of consciousness, he heard loud, deliberate footfalls, and prepared himself to be attacked for the second time that night. Finally the footsteps stop when the person was right in front of him, and slowly Bakura opened his eyes, blinking in surprise as he looked right into the lavender colored orbs of Marik Ishtar.

"Well damn, Fluffy. You look worse than I do when I'm hungover. " The Egyptian said with a smirk as he leaned forward to examine the other. "I guess that pretty face of yours won't be getting any free meals any time soon."

"What do you want, Marik? Have you come to mock me, or just generally poke fun of my circumstances? I know you're sadistic, but messing with someone who's already been beaten up, that's a new low, even for you." Bakura sneered as he glared up at Marik.

"Now is that any way to treat a friend, Fluffy? I could very well save you or kill you at this moment, depending on how I feel. I think you should try to be just a little bit nicer, don't you?" There it was again, that knowing smirk that set Bakura's teeth on edge and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

As much as he hated to admit it, Bakura knew that Marik was right; he could easily just walk away right now and let Bakura die in this alley, or even speed the process along, one well placed stab with that millennium rod of Marik's, and he would be dead in an alley.

"What, do you want, Marik?" He asked again, gritting his teeth as the pain returned, this time in waves, as Marik leaned forward once more and prodded at his ribs, knowing the pain he was causing.

"What do I want? That's simple, I want to torture you. I want to make you feel a glorious kind of pain, simply because I can." Was the Egyptian's response as he stood up straight and grinned madly. "Bakura, you're mine~" Down the males foot, straight into Bakura's ribs, the pain finally making the white haired male pass out.