He didn’t look so mighty now, Bakura decided as he stayed in the distance. Shadows covering his form that safely hid him from the Ishtar who was shackled a good distance away.

“Marik,” Bakura spoke more to himself than the other as he continued to wait for the restrained male to do something. The Ishtar still kneeling with his arms stretched out far to each side, head tucked down, and very still. “Look how much you’ve fallen. The last time I saw you, you were laughing as you set my body aflame,” his voice louder so the other could hear. “Now look at you. Quiet, still, and so pathetic.” Still no response. “Look at me!” Bakura barked.

The bound form starting to stir at last. Head rising up just enough to look ahead, Marik slowly opened his eyes. Violets that once sparkled with cruel delight still burning but more like a cinder on it’s last legs before becoming cold ash.

“What do you want, thief?” His voice sounding raw as if he had been screaming for days instead of the few short hours it had truly been since his defeat.

“You shoved out the spirit of the body you possessed and yet I am the thief?” Bakura was more amused than insulted by this accusation.

A moment of silence followed. No witty comeback? Maybe this was not such a brilliant idea after all but there was another way to test out the Ishtar.

“I would think it was obvious,” Bakura remarked as he stepped closer to reveal himself. The Shadow Realm churning behind him like a restless desert storm of purple and black. The area where the two now resided unaffected by the chaos around them despite the haunting screams in the distance of terrible ghouls.

“Then do it already,” Marik croaked. His glare hard and focused on the thief that seemingly mocked him. “Kill me.”

Bakura was taken back by the statement but managed to not reveal his surprise but rather a smirk instead. “Kill you? Hm… My, how I wanted that as the fire ate away at my body…” It was true at the time but there was something else he had learned after some deep self reflection that far outweighed that speck of anger in time.

“If you’re going to do it then take your time, by all means, but do get started,” Marik spoke. The Egyptian jerking at his bonds which turned red with fury but settled down as he did. The colors fading to cool similar to a burning log while the pungent scent of scorching flesh rose.
“A bit of pain before death really makes a person start to value what they are about to lose,” Marik spoke, his voice cracking towards the end.

It would appear to Bakura that the man was still close enough to how he remembered him, the thief decided. All the same he moved closer but with each step his appearance began to change. His right hand’s flesh seemingly melting away while finger bones elongated. New sinew forming over the monstrous hand while nails were replaced with razor sharp claws. Blood still on the surface but a new more telling form showing by the time he stopped before Marik.

“That is very tempting but I have reached the conclusion that I have chosen poorly before in whom to ally myself.” The monstrous hand cupping the Ishtar’s chin and forcing him to look up higher. Talons leaving their mark on olive brown flesh and mixing blood. “I want to form a new bond. One with you.”

The partial transformation was unexpected. Doing such a thing, especially here, took a lot of dark power and will. To even alter his form and not so much as flinch- Marik’s mind raced with potential horrors but it was all he could do to scowl as he remained kneeling before what could be his true and final end.

“A bond?”

“Yes. A bond,” Bakura parroted. Grotesque thumb caressing Marik’s other cheek as his head was now forcibly turn to an angle. Marik felt like cattle being inspected before heading to the slaughter house and Bakura knew it.
“You and I both want the same thing. To kill the pharaoh. You can’t even hope to do that here but if you join me,” a brief pause as Bakura tilted the other’s head once more. “You can help achieve that.”

“Help you?” Marik scoffed. Claws now digging into his cheeks, drawing more hot blood. “How?” The grip slackened. A good sign. “I have been expelled! Not from the world but my body as well.”

“I’ll take care of that minor detail,” Bakura promised as he let go of Marik’s chin.

“Minor?” Marik hissed. “Unless I am to do anything from this wretched spot, it is a very large and important detail!”

“I would tell you intricate process and steps but really are they that important right this second? Wouldn’t you do anything to get back at your weaker self for taking away your victory? Not just that but a second chance to help, not just kill, but completely annihilate that dusty king, once and for all?”

The tension between them both rising as neither spoke. The Shadow Realm nearly a deafening chamber of silence that was practically a maddening crescendo which made it nearly impossible for Marik to focus.

“My offer has a time limit, mortal. Choose wisely and now,” Bakura demanded.

Mortal? That was Marik’s first thought which was quickly overwhelmed with more concerning ones. I’m going to die here if I refuse, Marik managed to hear himself think. I might die even if I agree.

“I need an answer,” Bakura said as he carefully moved his grasp from the chin down lower to the exposed bit of throat immediately under.

This seems too good to be true. It has to be. The hold tightened causing the Ishtar to close one eye in mute pain. I can either die here with no chance to change my given fate or I can parish later and maybe drag them all to hell with me.

“An-”

“I’ll do it,” Marik rasped. A rush of sickly warm air flooding his lungs when he was released from the hold. Chains still binding him firmly in place. “I will help you bring down the pharaoh of old.” The temptation of adding stipulations to the deal on his tongue but was not uttered as Bakura began to move.

“We have a lot ahead of us,” Bakura began. His other hand too becoming monstrous. Blood dripping from talons as flesh melded away from human into something far more sinister. The change unnatural yet seemingly second nature to the thief as he didn’t even so much as flinch.
“But it will all be worth it soon,” Bakura promised.

Pitch black hands moved around one another as if caging the air between them, constantly moving about in an oracle like fashion. The madness not even making sense to Marik but as he went to voice his concerns his voice was lost once more. Red glowing hieroglyphs unlike any he had ever seen were forming in the center and tripled in size when Bakura pulled his hands apart.

“Brace yourself,” Bakura warned. His voice calm and nearly sympathetic in tone but the smirk suggested another story. “This is going to hurt.”

Marik should have felt more alarmed by that phrase. A warning of pain was not uncommon from Bakura, surely, but to be told that and to get ready for it… as if he actually cared. That. That was new.

The burning hieroglyphs were soon moved and pressed against the Ishtar’s forehead. Pain was immediate but Marik held his ground merely gritting his teeth together until he could hear the thief murmuring something. No. Not murmuring, he was talking out loud but the air between them seemed to be filling with buzzing static. The pain was getting worse. It doubled quickly then breached the point of Marik’s threshold.

Bakura’s brown eyes now were glowing red as well. His teeth more like fangs as Marik stared wide eyed at the other in clear agony. Their hair both waving wildly backwards from the contact point that was giving off energy unlike Marik had known. Even having been punched by the great god, Obelisk the Tormentor, Marik had not felt such nauseating dread that threatened to not just consume him but destroy his existence entirely.

The real surprise for Bakura was not that Marik had survived his indoctrination but that the blonde had managed to keep from screaming till near the end. Every vile and morbidly intimate thought Marik had ever had was now shared with Bakura. Most of it easily understood and some of it more complicated.

While it would have been easy to dive back into the blonde’s mind and riffle through his thoughts again the process so close to the initial bonding would have killed this poor mortal. So for now Bakura knew it was not an option but perhaps he could further examine the memories he did glimpse at a later time.

Marik’s mouth hung open as he gasped for cooling air. His form beaded with sweat as he tried to piece together what had just happened. Whatever occurred, it was draining. He felt weaker than before and that was not good news. Not when the beasts of this realm hungered and loved to toy with their prey before consuming it bit by bit.

“Afraid I lied and am going to leave you here to die?” Bakura mused as his demon-esk parts reverting back to that of a pale human. Even the blood that once coated his hands seemed to be missing, as if it had been sucked back into it’s proper place.

“That is a reasonable thought,” Bakura chuckled. “But rest your fears. We have made a bond and believe it or not, that means our destinies are now intertwined.”

“You sound like my sister,” Marik voiced lowly. His head drooping down as he was exhausted.

“Perhaps a little,” Bakura confessed only to run one hand through his own hair, white fingertips scratching at his scalp nonchalantly. “But enough about family. For now, just rest.”

“But-” Marik’s vision blurred and Bakura could tell it would not be long till his new partner would yield to the dark that crept into those violet eyes.

“Your part has yet to come up. Rest now and let me begin my end of the deal.” A bit of silver hair fell over the thief’s shoulder when he pulled his hand free from his own locks. “See you in a bit,” he purred just before the other went limp in his chains.

Linked metal scorching red and sizzling flesh till the ancient spirit snapped his fingers. The mystic bindings fading away and Marik fell to the ground with a heavy thud. The scene earning a smirk from the stealer of souls as he loomed over the still body for he knew the Shadow Realm could have altered itself to be more kind and friendly to those it liked though it’s true nature was selfish and cruel. Perhaps it was mad at the Egyptian for denying it the victim they both wish to be rid of. Yes, the pharaoh would have been in exquisite suffering, surely but for now…
Bakura’s grin faded.

“Alright… I guess it is time we take our leave.” With that spoken to the hidden ghouls, Bakura bent down and hefted Marik Ishtar by the back of his shirt and cowl. A rip into the mortal world appearing behind him and he dragged the unconscious man towards it only to tsk.

“…You best not fail me like the other had,” and like that, they left the ghouls and shadows behind…