| Series: Yu-Gi-Oh
Genre: Post-apocalyptic, dark, horror
Pairings: Bakura/Kaiba (eventually)
Word Count: 428
Notes: This is a teaser to a post-apocalyptic story that has been bothering me for a week, when I should be working on Verdant. There is a possibility this could be expanded into a full story/series as time permits.
Disclaimer: All copyrights are held by their respective copyright holders, of which I am not one. I'm merely borrowing them briefly, and I'll return them in the same shape I borrowed them in... more or less. I do make claims to the story idea, as it has been eating at my brain when I should be working on the things to be published.
Comments/Critique: Welcome and encouraged
“Who is Wraith?” he demanded of the young woman before him. Of all the so-called Ground Zero survivors and their families, she was the first he had seen face-to-face since just after that first horrible night, the night that first Domino City, then Japan, then the world came to realize what kind of trouble they were in. She leveled a steady glare at him, similar if not better than ones her brother had turned on him over a year ago. “Kaiba-san, it would be better to say ‘who are Wraith’.” Subtle grammatical difference, yes, but this time it made a huge difference in meaning. “Wraith is more than one person then. Good to know.” Yet everyone who had been sent to him by Wraith had given him nearly identical, if completely vague, descriptions of Wraith. Brothers, perhaps? But he didn’t know any set of brothers who fit the general qualifications he knew of: nearly identical appearance, able to operate in complete stealth, and knew him well enough to send all these people here. “Wraith is two people,” Kawai Shizuka confirmed. “I only met one of them though.” She frowned, and the expression struck his tired mind as being between cute and her loser brother’s scowls when he was one-upped. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured out who they are yet, Kaiba-san.” It would be wrong to turn the best glare in his rather prestigious arsenal loose on a mere slip of a girl, no matter if all those annoying behaviors apparently had managed to run in her family, so he settled for his third worst one. “In case it escaped your notice, I happen to spend much of my time keeping the people here and at Kaibaland alive. I don’t have time to hunt down clues throughout the city.” She frowned, apparently liking being one-upped just as much as her brother, but there was no arguing that particular known fact. The earth was dying, everything was going to hell in short order, and Kaiba Seto was the only thing holding parts of the city together. “Like I said, I only met half of Wraith, but…” She trailed off, glancing nervously around his office, as if someone might be skulking in a corner listening in obscurity, waiting for the name. Impatiently, he gestured her to come closer, rising to his feet and leaning towards her over his desk. “Who is Wraith?” he repeated. She leaned close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin. When she said the name, it was barely louder than a breath: “Bakura Ryou.” | |
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| Series: Yu-Gi-Oh
Genre: Post-apocalyptic, dark, horror
Pairings: Bakura/Kaiba (eventually)
Word Count: 494
Notes: This is a teaser to a post-apocalyptic story that has been bothering me for a week, when I should be working on Verdant. There is a possibility this could be expanded into a full story/series as time permits.
Comments/Critique: Welcome
He wasn’t sure if it was day or night out there.
The days were just as dark as the nights most of the time, and if it was bright enough outside for several blocks of the city to be seen, then it was bright enough to stay inside. Everyone knew if you could see, you could also be seen – and if you could be seen, you could and would become the hunted, either by Zork itself or the marauders many of the other citizens of the city had become in order to thrive in this strange world.
At least the electricity was still on throughout the city itself, even if it had been cut off in the outlying and now mostly abandoned areas. Of course, no one with more than half a brain cut on the lights in any part of any building that could be seen from outside. That was just like inviting marauders to come in.
And to imagine, he, Kaiba Seto, lived in such a world as this. Years ago, when his stepfather died, he had said that he never again would live in fear. He supposed this was why there was that admonishment of “never say never”; it was certainly coming back to haunt. He had sworn he wouldn’t live in fear; now he would have to be stupid not to be afraid – and if there was anything Kaiba wasn’t, it was stupid.
A few months ago, he had found out the hard way that the mansion was no longer safe, when marauders attacked it in force. A few of his guards had not survived, and indeed, he, Mokuba, and a few employees had only barely made it out. Now Kaiba Corp Tower was his last refuge; Kaiba Land had long since been commandeered as a refugee camp of a sort.
Even the lower levels of the Kaiba Corp building itself were beginning to find themselves filled with refugees, some of which he even vaguely recognized from classes or gaming tournaments. He, Mokuba, and the few surviving members of his staff occupied the upper levels, with the two Kaibas being the sole occupants of the topmost floor, but the other levels were filling and fast. More perplexing, many of them claimed to have been rescued from what sounded like hell itself by some mysterious figure they only knew as Wraith.
The more he tried to find out about Wraith, the more close-lipped everyone became on the subject. It was almost like the person was his namesake and just didn’t exist. Who would send refugees to him, after all? It would have to be someone who knew him, knew he wouldn’t turn these people away. Most everyone who knew him even that well was accounted for, though, and those who weren’t accounted for...
Well, they were probably over a year dead. If they weren’t dead, then based on the stories he had been here, they were probably wishing that they were. | |
|
| Series: Yu-Gi-Oh
Genre: Post-apocalyptic, dark, horror
Pairings: Bakura/Kaiba (eventually)
Word Count: 343
Notes: This is a teaser to a post-apocalyptic story that has been bothering me for a week, when I should be working on Verdant. There is a possibility this could be expanded into a full story/series as time permits.
Comments/Critique: Welcome
The city burned.
On more days than he cared to count, one part or another of Domino City remained alight. The flames touched the sky, lighting it brighter than the streetlights once had. Some people even said they could probably be seen from space, but of course, space was the least of everyone’s concern. Why worry about something so trivial when the reality was so much more immediate - and terrible?
It had been one year, one month, and ten days since hell descended onto Earth, making its landing somewhere in the arts area of Domino City, though reports were still a bit confused on the exact location of Ground Zero, so to speak. Very few people who were near the epicenter of the event survived. Of those who did, very few were accounted for. Of those, even fewer were willing to talk about what they had seen.
And for once, he couldn't find it in him to blame them. He was counted among the survivors, though to this day, he was still less than fond of that designation. After all, in his short life to date, so many labels had been applied to him: son, brother, orphan, boy genius, World's Champion, billionaire inventor... Survivor was just another one, albeit one he was less enthused about.
After all, everyone in the world wanted to know what had happened to bring a monster like Zork into the world. Was it an accident? Had someone caused it? Was there a way to reverse it? Were they now forever stuck with an Evil Overlord the likes of which the world had never before seen?
How could he tell them what he had seen? To this day, he still wasn't completely certain. There had been a mass hallucination of Ancient Egypt which may or may not have been a game between the so-called Pharaoh and some sort of Ancient Evil, presumably Zork, and apparently the Pharaoh had lost. There was no eleventh hour rescue this time, and the entire world was plunged into darkness.
Except for the fire. | |
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| - Location:Tallahassee, FL
- Feeling:creative
 - Hearing:Meat Loaf - The Monster's Loose
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| Heads are going to roll. I swear to God, I'm going to find responsible parties - or even people who look vaguely responsible - and rip them limb from limb. Whoops, bad analogy, given my current situation. You know, it wasn't too many nights ago that Yami, the brat, Mini-Me, and I were on a couch, laughing uncontrollably at a bootleg horror movie with characters cuaght in a situation very much like what I find myself in. And, somehow, the only thing that keeps circling through my mind is, oddly enough, I didn't think it would smell like this. Weird. I'm probably not too far from being torn limb from limb myself, and I'm more concerned about how the things about to kill me smell. "Somehow this is all your fault." I hold back a growl but only barely - and badly. "I hate you. This is not my fault. You were the one who got the invitation. I just tagged along to be nice." "You don't know what that word means, Bakura." "Like you do?" Okay, just how the hell did we get here? ( Chapter One ) | |
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| - Feeling:weird
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