Fic: Weekend Detention: Chapter 27
Hey look, we finally got around to updating this! Crossposted on playthedamncard and yugiohstories.
Title:Weekend Detention Chapter 27: The Voice in the Dark
Authors: lenaf007 and mistress_kabuki
Word Count: 3,749
Rating: R for violence and gore
Pairings: None
Description: Yugi and the gang spend a weekend of detention in the Overlook Hotel, recently purchased by Pegasus. Horror and fright runs amuck as Mokuba discovers he has a special gift, but he’s not quite sure who he can trust. (Yugi, Tea, Tristan, Joey, Duke, Seto, Mokuba, Pegasus, Croquet) Stephen King's The Shining/Yu-Gi-Oh crossover.
FF.Net Archive of Chapters 1-26
Chapter 27: The Voice in the Dark
A long time had passed in which he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn’t remember much, only a sudden jarring pain followed by a feeling of weightlessness. It was as though his head had been stuffed with cotton, like the plush animals Pegasus liked to keep around the manor. He’d thought he was falling, but that didn’t make any sense really. He’d been ambushed, he remembered that much. Someone from behind. He clearly remembered the shocked expression on Wheeler’s face before falling senseless.
His body was throbbing and his head was so heavy that any attempt at more than just breathing seemed an impossible feat. But as he began to pull the cold air into his lungs he realized that he was in unfamiliar territory. This place didn’t smell like the lobby, in fact there wasn’t a scent of firewood or the moldy furniture. He’d been trained well enough to pay attention to his surroundings, and though he’d taken a terrific blow to the skull the gears in his mind were already working. He realized that he needed to open his eyes, to find out what was going on, and to find Pegasus.
Pegasus - flying in heroic stupidity over the ferocious shrubs outside, snowmobile between his knees. Had he escaped the blizzard? What if he was still out there, frozen and alone in the torrential snow? Had he even survived?
Croquet could remember the very first day he’d been hired to work with the Crawford family. He remembered traveling with the young entrepreneur to the distant lands of Egypt. It was the worst mistake of Croquet’s life - not only had he failed to protect Pegasus from getting the Sennen Eye, but when the Millennium Item was viciously ripped out, it had left the young man even more damaged. If Pegasus’ parents were still alive the bodyguard knew he would have most certainly been fired.
It seemed for him that failure came in threes. He’d failed three marriages and now he’d failed Pegasus three times. Hopefully this third failure would not be fatal. He’d known his employer longer than he’d known any of his wives. It was inexcusable if anything happened to the eccentric young man - and that meant getting up and making himself useful.
He tried to open his eyes and was briefly rewarded with the sight of a dusty cavern before an arc of pain jolted them shut once more. He gasped. White hot pain flared behind his left eye … what the hell had happened? He mustered the strength to lift his hand, hesitantly dragging it toward his face. He felt the stubble of his beard noting it was sprinkled with some sort of thick, grainy substance but otherwise undamaged. When his fingertips reached his cheekbone; however, he paused. Something sharp, plastic, and gently curved was jutting out of his face. What had he landed on?
Of course. His sunglasses.
He huffed an angry sigh, his fingers gingerly probing the wet skin around the foreign object, hot pain flashing at strange spots as he examined the wound trying to determine the extent of the damage. It was difficult to tell at first without causing more pain, but he soon became aware of the subtle difference between the feel of blood-slicked skin and the wound itself. The shard was large, embedded in the tender flesh above his cheekbone. It was by sheer dumb luck that he hadn’t been instantly blinded, and he felt a little lucky. But the feeling didn’t last long. The wound would get infected, if it wasn’t already. He would need expert medical attention to keep his sight - attention that would be hard to come across at this rate.
As he continued his examination he realized that every time the lids moved the plastic cut in deeper. It was best if he kept his eyes shut and his lids relaxed. He was well-trained, but not quite well enough to confidently pull the shard out. He would need help. He was probably bleeding profusely. The eye itself would probably be filled with blood, the damaged nerves might be dying already. He didn’t have any way of telling how clean the cut had been or if he was likely to bleed to death. He needed someone who could look at him closely.
He tried to get by with only one eye open, and quickly learned that it was an impossible feat. The pain was too much and he immediately felt a strong headache claw at the back of his skull - he almost certainly had suffered a concussion as well. Terrific.
It was therefore impossible to use his right eye without damaging the left. He was incapacitated in alien territory. He couldn’t see. Blind. All that kept his panic in check were the years of strict training he’d kept up since leaving his government service. He knew he had to keep his wits about him. He had no choice if he wanted to get out alive. For all he knew Wheeler could be dead beside him, or dying and in need of his help. So he turned to his other options. He could at least hear. He tried to focus on the sound beyond the pounding of his own heartbeat. The quiet hum of a generator. Interesting, and would have been helpful if he’d taken the time to learn where exactly the generator was in the godforsaken building. And beyond that noise, there was something else. There were voices in the room, though they sounded as far away as a ship in the fog. He stiffened. Someone was nearby then, probably more than one. He wasn’t quite sure whether to be grateful or apprehensive - it had only been he and Wheeler after all. Unless the attacker was still near…
Then he heard something odd. It was a strange sound that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Raspy, like dried paper in a breeze. He couldn’t place it or figure out where it was coming from. In fact he was concentrating so hard on the sound that he nearly leapt out of his skin when a voice - one he didn’t recognize - suddenly breathed in his ear. It was airy, and had he heard it on the street or in the safety of his own home he would never have noticed it at all. Parched and dry as a desert breeze. It made him think of the old black and white monster movies of his youth. “You … are … alive?”
He was pretty sure it was a question anyway, with the faint upward lilt at the end of the scant sentence. Now that he thought about it, the raspy nature of the voice might have been caused by laryngitis. Or from screaming too long. Was it Joey Wheeler then, injured and trying to rouse him? What had that maniac done to him? He managed to croak, “Yes. Are you alright?”
He smelled something cold and ancient, reminiscent of the old Egyptian tombs Pegasus loved so much. He always hated those things, they always gave him the creeps. He was glad to have someone nearby, but his instincts were screaming otherwise. He felt something cold and dry graze against his face near his left eye and he shuddered, involuntarily clenching the eyelid a bit causing his migraine to intensify. “Blood …” the voice spoke again.
“It’s … not as bad as it looks.”
Croquet paused, realizing with growing dismay that this … speaking … thing was likely not Joey Wheeler. Whatever it was, it would be best to keep the conversation going as though he hadn’t noticed anything amiss. It didn’t seem to be intent on harming him yet, but if angered … he was certainly in no shape to defend himself. He felt something cold graze against his skin again, a cold breeze caress his ear as the voice came again, whispering, “Can help….”
“Can you now?” Croquet licked his lips nervously. “How?”
“Friend … help …”
Croquet swallowed. He was getting nowhere, and the … whatever it was kept breathing a little too intimately in his ear. He decided to take a chance. “Wheeler?”
He felt it pulling away, a strange scratching noise in its wake, skittering like an overgrown rat. “Help … yesss …”
Croquet sighed. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to be this thing’s captive? He remembered the strange convulsion that had overtaken Pegasus on the plane and shuddered. If the Overlook was responsible for that there was no telling what Croquet now faced.
Weakly he pulled his arms to his sides and tried to sit up. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck - a large fast-moving semi. Croquet groaned, forcing his straining muscles out of lethargy, this time pulling himself up completely with a grunt. His head was pounding terribly now, and the vague nausea that swept over him reminded him that his concussion was probably serious. Even a clumsy attacker would be able to overpower him in this poor condition. He fumbled for the weapon at his side but froze when his fingers encountered the leather holster, lightened by an unfamiliar absence. The bastard had disarmed him. Not that he could have used a gun in his current state, but it would have been comforting nonetheless.
Undaunted he stretched out his hands, hovering over the strange terrain and allowing his uncertain fingers to serve as his only means of sight. Everywhere he placed his hands, the ground seemed to sink with his weight. It was like being on another planet, except this one reeked of mildew. He could feel no trace of his flashlight or firearm in the piles surrounding him… where the hell was he?
**********
“Look, Tristan Taylor, I have come a very long way and I’m tired of arguing!” Pegasus paused, taking a deep breath. When next he spoke it was in a more moderate voice, like the school hall monitor. “Perhaps we should put our differences aside and put the safety of those in peril above all other matters, hmm?”
Tristan’s glare didn’t waver. “Man, I’m starting to think that Kaiba had a point before about you causing all this shit. Why should we trust a crazy bastard like you?”
Duke shook his head in disgust. “Just give him a chance, Tristan! No one said you had to - Yugi? Where are you going?”
The three men turned to see Yugi hobbling across the room, already halfway to the elevator. If what they said was true, if Joey was really dead, he had to help the others. He would’ve liked to have had Yami’s support. The spirit would have wanted them to help their friends in any way possible.
Yugi recalled the duel he had with Kaiba on top of Pegasus’ castle at the Duelist Kingdom tournament and the crazy, haunted look that had suddenly overtaken him. He appeared completely sane as he’d threatened to kill himself rather than lose. Yugi knew Kaiba was capable of drastic behavior, knew if he was pushed hard enough he was capable of just about anything. Even murder. He wanted to think about Kaiba, wanted to reason out the madness, but every time he tried he saw Joey - his ruffled, shaggy hair, grinning sheepishly from ear to ear as he realized he would be able to save Serenity’s sight. Yugi paused by the grandiose fireplace, his violet eyes shimmering with emotion. “I’m going up there. I have to help Tea and Mokuba. I know I was too late to help Joey...” He turned abruptly, tears streaming down his face and the moonlight catching the fire in his eyes. “I won’t let Tea and Mokuba down like I did Joey! I can’t. If you three want to fight about it, I’ll just go alone.”
“Yugi…” Duke took a step forward.
Tristan sighed, sitting up straighter in his chair with a grimace, “I know how you feel, Yugi. I wish I’d been able to stop him. But maybe we can save Tea and Mokuba, get them out of that room before Kaiba thinks to look for them. Yugi he’s dangerous! I mean look at us! Two handicaps, a fruit, and a hair band reject. What the hell kind of chances are those?”
Duke glared daggers at him, “Who are you calling a hair band reject?!”
Pegasus snorted, flipping back his silver mane. “Well you can toss about insults all you like; in fact, it adequately reflects your intelligence. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to do what you are so obviously ill-equipped for - namely help! Come along, Duke.”
Yugi sighed, putting his palm on his forehead and wishing Tea was here to help him straighten the guys out. “You’ve got to stop arguing. If we do have any chance of stopping Kaiba, then we have to work as a team. Joey would have wanted us to.”
“But I can’t come with you with this bad leg. Kaiba smacked the shit out of it!” He grit his teeth, turning away. “I can’t even avenge my own friend.”
Duke put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay, man. You tried. But,” Duke looked from Pegasus and Yugi to the prone Tristan, “we can’t just leave you here. What if Kaiba comes back to finish the job?”
Tristan pushed Duke’s hand away as though it stung, “Don’t worry about me in that arena. If Kaiba comes back - I’ve got one hell of a score to settle with him.”
Duke shook his head and gave his friend a worried look. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll be able to do much this time around.”
“Well if you hadn’t held me back, I’d have beat his ass right there!”
”Well if you weren’t such an idiot -- ”
“Hey, that’ll work!” Tristan pointed into the dusty hearth. “Duke, do something useful for once and bring that over here.”
Duke peered into the darkness, sighing as he made his way over to the fireplace. “You’re crazy, man.”
“No,” Pegasus declared, eyes wide. “You can’t seriously mean…”
Duke turned around with a smile plastered over his face. “Yup. It’s a disguise! If he smears ashes all over himself Kaiba might think he’s part of the decoration!”
“Shut up, Duke! That’s not what I meant! Bring me that goddamned poker.”
Duke’s smiled melted into horror. “What?”
Pegasus whipped around to glare at Tristan, “You’re insane! Kaiba hasn’t even been proven guilty yet. For heaven’s sake let’s at least talk to the boy. He’s probably in shock.” Pegasus crossed his arms and looked around the room for some support. Yugi kept his eyes downcast as Duke looked from the poker to Tristan in defeat. Tristan stared intently at Duke, as if he hadn’t even heard Pegasus speak. “You’re all crazy! What kind of people are you? Yugi-boy, you can’t possibly condone this! He’ll kill Kaiba without a second thought. And for what? For rambling incoherently about killing someone? He does that all the time!”
Yugi sighed, “This is different, Pegasus. You haven’t seen him. He and Joey were in a fight. A bad one. It’s …hard to explain.”
Pegasus glared, “A fight is certainly no justification for murder.”
Tristan nodded, “Exactly why I need that poker. If he killed Joey, he could be out to kill any of us.”
The room was silent for a moment as they all weighed the consequences. Yugi finally spoke up, “Well he does need a weapon. If not against Kaiba, then at least against anything else that might come down here. I’m tired of being taken by surprise.” Almost in response, the temperature seemed to drop a little. The shadows felt deeper and darker, and it felt as though something could reach out and grab them at any moment. They all felt exposed, bare and at the mercy of the Overlook which coiled about them in its unrelenting grasp.
Duke nodded reluctantly and wrenched the poker from its metal casing, piercing the thick air with a sharp shriek of metal. They all cringed. It was like ringing a gong in a graveyard and once it was free, Duke held it sheepishly amazed at his own brazenness.
Pegasus’ face was expressionless. He’d backed up to one of the dusty armchairs and was leaning upon it heavily as a cane. His eye was glazed, and when he spoke it was low and fearful. “No, this isn’t right. It’s what it wants… You can’t give in to that, even if Kaiba-boy really did … really did ….”
“We can only do so much. We have to believe that Kaiba can help himself too, if he wants to.” Yugi sighed. His shoulders were slumped as though he alone held the weight of the consequences. “We don’t really have any other option.”
Pegasus glared fiercely, “Oh, I see how it is. You think Kaiba can take care of himself. Interesting stance from the person who always wants to help his friends. Showing your true, selfish colors, Yugi-boy?” Pegasus smiled viciously. “The Overlook wants you to give in to those feelings, the hate you feel for Kaiba. It makes you think there are no more options but really there always are.” His eye was wide, almost crazed as he hissed, “There’s always another way. You just have to know where to look and have the courage to act on it. Believe me, I know!”
“Just shut up, Pegasus,” Tristan snapped. “If this was reversed and you were stuck down here with a broken leg, I’m sure you’d be more than willing to have a weapon.” He snatched the poker from Duke, and held it in both hands like a Louisville slugger gauging its weight and caressing the rusted metal.
Pegasus shook his head, “Look, I agree that Seto Kaiba has a long list of faults. He’s rash, and sometimes he does make hot-headed decisions. And yes, I suspected that he attacked one or two people for their Blue-Eyes White Dragons, but I was never able to determine that positively because they never pressed any charges. I refuse to believe he’d kill Joey Wheeler - he’d never kill a fellow duelist! And besides, for all of his blustering, he considers him a rival. He’d keep the boy around just to inflate his own ego!”
“By attack, you mean what exactly?” Tristan frowned.
“Umm…”
“Did he just beat the shit out of them? Threaten them at gunpoint? Blackmail? Come on, you’ve got to help us out here. We need to know what kind of monster he is.”
Pegasus pursed his lips, drawing himself to his full height. “Like I said, it was never conclusive. Only conjecture. And besides that was a long time ago. You have no idea the sort of things that Kaiba’s undergone in his lifetime, and he’s held up fine so far. I’ve known Kaiba a long time, and for all his faults he’s a good person.”
Tristan gritted his teeth, “I’m not going to sit here and listen to a sob story about Joey’s murderer! What are you his lawyer? Just get the hell out of here and check on Tea and Mokuba. You’re wasting time preaching to me!”
Pegasus opened his mouth to respond but closed it, shaking his head and seething in anger. He hissed through his teeth and turned to the elevator. “Well come on then, Yugi! Duke! We’d best be quick before Tristan does something even dumber than usual!”
Yugi and Duke exchanged glances as Pegasus angrily mashed the button. “I guess we’d better follow him then, Duke.” Yugi sighed, moving over to Tristan to squeeze his shoulder. “Tristan, just be careful. Don’t… get carried away and do something you’ll regret.”
Tristan just smiled, “I’ve been in fights before, Yugi. I can keep my head. You just make sure the others are okay and don’t leave me down here too long. This room’s already giving me the creeps and you guys haven’t even left yet.” Tristan shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. His lingering pain was still obvious as he took in a slow, steadying breath. “I hope Pegasus is right. I want us to get lucky. I want Joey to walk through those doors as soon as you guys leave, and tell me it was a big joke. I want so badly, Yugi, to be left feeling stupid about this whole thing. It’d be better than how I feel now…”
Yugi managed a shaky smile, his lower lip quivering. Why did he get the feeling that this would be the last time he’d see Tristan alive? He’d seen Joey, everything had been fine. There’d been no indication that something would happen, that he just wouldn’t be there anymore. It made Yugi wonder who was next. Who did the Overlook have fingered as its next victim? And even if the rest of them got out alive, how long could their friendship hope to last? Without Joey’s smiling face, he honestly couldn’t imagine hanging out with his friends the same way again. He’d always be reminded of the empty pain that was slowly taking up residence in his heart.
Yugi turned away, wiping his eyes quickly as he headed toward the elevator. Duke patted Tristan on the shoulder. “I hate leaving you down here…”
“I know, man. Don’t start getting all weepy on me now. You’re such a girl sometimes…”
Duke smiled, “I am not! Besides, my makeup would run.”
“You’re a dork,” Tristan said, his laughter lacking its usual mirth.
“Just don’t go stabbing yourself in the foot, man. I know how confused you can get sometimes. Remember - this is your right, and this is your left. It’s a wonder you’re able to tie your shoes in the morning without me.”
“Well I guess I’ll have to learn fast, won’t I?”
Duke gave him a half hearted smile, and was about to toss in one more asinine comment for good measure when suddenly a piercing shriek shot from upstairs, snapping them all to attention. The elevator dinged. Everyone froze, the breath caught in their throats.
Duke whispered, eyes wide, “That was a girl…”
Yugi felt as though someone had turned on the lights in his head as a surge of adrenaline had his legs moving before he was even aware of it. If anything happened to Tea, and if Kaiba was somehow involved… Yugi felt his hands clenching as the three piled into the elevator. He didn’t know what he would do.
Title:Weekend Detention Chapter 27: The Voice in the Dark
Authors: lenaf007 and mistress_kabuki
Word Count: 3,749
Rating: R for violence and gore
Pairings: None
Description: Yugi and the gang spend a weekend of detention in the Overlook Hotel, recently purchased by Pegasus. Horror and fright runs amuck as Mokuba discovers he has a special gift, but he’s not quite sure who he can trust. (Yugi, Tea, Tristan, Joey, Duke, Seto, Mokuba, Pegasus, Croquet) Stephen King's The Shining/Yu-Gi-Oh crossover.
FF.Net Archive of Chapters 1-26
Chapter 27: The Voice in the Dark
A long time had passed in which he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn’t remember much, only a sudden jarring pain followed by a feeling of weightlessness. It was as though his head had been stuffed with cotton, like the plush animals Pegasus liked to keep around the manor. He’d thought he was falling, but that didn’t make any sense really. He’d been ambushed, he remembered that much. Someone from behind. He clearly remembered the shocked expression on Wheeler’s face before falling senseless.
His body was throbbing and his head was so heavy that any attempt at more than just breathing seemed an impossible feat. But as he began to pull the cold air into his lungs he realized that he was in unfamiliar territory. This place didn’t smell like the lobby, in fact there wasn’t a scent of firewood or the moldy furniture. He’d been trained well enough to pay attention to his surroundings, and though he’d taken a terrific blow to the skull the gears in his mind were already working. He realized that he needed to open his eyes, to find out what was going on, and to find Pegasus.
Pegasus - flying in heroic stupidity over the ferocious shrubs outside, snowmobile between his knees. Had he escaped the blizzard? What if he was still out there, frozen and alone in the torrential snow? Had he even survived?
Croquet could remember the very first day he’d been hired to work with the Crawford family. He remembered traveling with the young entrepreneur to the distant lands of Egypt. It was the worst mistake of Croquet’s life - not only had he failed to protect Pegasus from getting the Sennen Eye, but when the Millennium Item was viciously ripped out, it had left the young man even more damaged. If Pegasus’ parents were still alive the bodyguard knew he would have most certainly been fired.
It seemed for him that failure came in threes. He’d failed three marriages and now he’d failed Pegasus three times. Hopefully this third failure would not be fatal. He’d known his employer longer than he’d known any of his wives. It was inexcusable if anything happened to the eccentric young man - and that meant getting up and making himself useful.
He tried to open his eyes and was briefly rewarded with the sight of a dusty cavern before an arc of pain jolted them shut once more. He gasped. White hot pain flared behind his left eye … what the hell had happened? He mustered the strength to lift his hand, hesitantly dragging it toward his face. He felt the stubble of his beard noting it was sprinkled with some sort of thick, grainy substance but otherwise undamaged. When his fingertips reached his cheekbone; however, he paused. Something sharp, plastic, and gently curved was jutting out of his face. What had he landed on?
Of course. His sunglasses.
He huffed an angry sigh, his fingers gingerly probing the wet skin around the foreign object, hot pain flashing at strange spots as he examined the wound trying to determine the extent of the damage. It was difficult to tell at first without causing more pain, but he soon became aware of the subtle difference between the feel of blood-slicked skin and the wound itself. The shard was large, embedded in the tender flesh above his cheekbone. It was by sheer dumb luck that he hadn’t been instantly blinded, and he felt a little lucky. But the feeling didn’t last long. The wound would get infected, if it wasn’t already. He would need expert medical attention to keep his sight - attention that would be hard to come across at this rate.
As he continued his examination he realized that every time the lids moved the plastic cut in deeper. It was best if he kept his eyes shut and his lids relaxed. He was well-trained, but not quite well enough to confidently pull the shard out. He would need help. He was probably bleeding profusely. The eye itself would probably be filled with blood, the damaged nerves might be dying already. He didn’t have any way of telling how clean the cut had been or if he was likely to bleed to death. He needed someone who could look at him closely.
He tried to get by with only one eye open, and quickly learned that it was an impossible feat. The pain was too much and he immediately felt a strong headache claw at the back of his skull - he almost certainly had suffered a concussion as well. Terrific.
It was therefore impossible to use his right eye without damaging the left. He was incapacitated in alien territory. He couldn’t see. Blind. All that kept his panic in check were the years of strict training he’d kept up since leaving his government service. He knew he had to keep his wits about him. He had no choice if he wanted to get out alive. For all he knew Wheeler could be dead beside him, or dying and in need of his help. So he turned to his other options. He could at least hear. He tried to focus on the sound beyond the pounding of his own heartbeat. The quiet hum of a generator. Interesting, and would have been helpful if he’d taken the time to learn where exactly the generator was in the godforsaken building. And beyond that noise, there was something else. There were voices in the room, though they sounded as far away as a ship in the fog. He stiffened. Someone was nearby then, probably more than one. He wasn’t quite sure whether to be grateful or apprehensive - it had only been he and Wheeler after all. Unless the attacker was still near…
Then he heard something odd. It was a strange sound that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Raspy, like dried paper in a breeze. He couldn’t place it or figure out where it was coming from. In fact he was concentrating so hard on the sound that he nearly leapt out of his skin when a voice - one he didn’t recognize - suddenly breathed in his ear. It was airy, and had he heard it on the street or in the safety of his own home he would never have noticed it at all. Parched and dry as a desert breeze. It made him think of the old black and white monster movies of his youth. “You … are … alive?”
He was pretty sure it was a question anyway, with the faint upward lilt at the end of the scant sentence. Now that he thought about it, the raspy nature of the voice might have been caused by laryngitis. Or from screaming too long. Was it Joey Wheeler then, injured and trying to rouse him? What had that maniac done to him? He managed to croak, “Yes. Are you alright?”
He smelled something cold and ancient, reminiscent of the old Egyptian tombs Pegasus loved so much. He always hated those things, they always gave him the creeps. He was glad to have someone nearby, but his instincts were screaming otherwise. He felt something cold and dry graze against his face near his left eye and he shuddered, involuntarily clenching the eyelid a bit causing his migraine to intensify. “Blood …” the voice spoke again.
“It’s … not as bad as it looks.”
Croquet paused, realizing with growing dismay that this … speaking … thing was likely not Joey Wheeler. Whatever it was, it would be best to keep the conversation going as though he hadn’t noticed anything amiss. It didn’t seem to be intent on harming him yet, but if angered … he was certainly in no shape to defend himself. He felt something cold graze against his skin again, a cold breeze caress his ear as the voice came again, whispering, “Can help….”
“Can you now?” Croquet licked his lips nervously. “How?”
“Friend … help …”
Croquet swallowed. He was getting nowhere, and the … whatever it was kept breathing a little too intimately in his ear. He decided to take a chance. “Wheeler?”
He felt it pulling away, a strange scratching noise in its wake, skittering like an overgrown rat. “Help … yesss …”
Croquet sighed. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to be this thing’s captive? He remembered the strange convulsion that had overtaken Pegasus on the plane and shuddered. If the Overlook was responsible for that there was no telling what Croquet now faced.
Weakly he pulled his arms to his sides and tried to sit up. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck - a large fast-moving semi. Croquet groaned, forcing his straining muscles out of lethargy, this time pulling himself up completely with a grunt. His head was pounding terribly now, and the vague nausea that swept over him reminded him that his concussion was probably serious. Even a clumsy attacker would be able to overpower him in this poor condition. He fumbled for the weapon at his side but froze when his fingers encountered the leather holster, lightened by an unfamiliar absence. The bastard had disarmed him. Not that he could have used a gun in his current state, but it would have been comforting nonetheless.
Undaunted he stretched out his hands, hovering over the strange terrain and allowing his uncertain fingers to serve as his only means of sight. Everywhere he placed his hands, the ground seemed to sink with his weight. It was like being on another planet, except this one reeked of mildew. He could feel no trace of his flashlight or firearm in the piles surrounding him… where the hell was he?
**********
“Look, Tristan Taylor, I have come a very long way and I’m tired of arguing!” Pegasus paused, taking a deep breath. When next he spoke it was in a more moderate voice, like the school hall monitor. “Perhaps we should put our differences aside and put the safety of those in peril above all other matters, hmm?”
Tristan’s glare didn’t waver. “Man, I’m starting to think that Kaiba had a point before about you causing all this shit. Why should we trust a crazy bastard like you?”
Duke shook his head in disgust. “Just give him a chance, Tristan! No one said you had to - Yugi? Where are you going?”
The three men turned to see Yugi hobbling across the room, already halfway to the elevator. If what they said was true, if Joey was really dead, he had to help the others. He would’ve liked to have had Yami’s support. The spirit would have wanted them to help their friends in any way possible.
Yugi recalled the duel he had with Kaiba on top of Pegasus’ castle at the Duelist Kingdom tournament and the crazy, haunted look that had suddenly overtaken him. He appeared completely sane as he’d threatened to kill himself rather than lose. Yugi knew Kaiba was capable of drastic behavior, knew if he was pushed hard enough he was capable of just about anything. Even murder. He wanted to think about Kaiba, wanted to reason out the madness, but every time he tried he saw Joey - his ruffled, shaggy hair, grinning sheepishly from ear to ear as he realized he would be able to save Serenity’s sight. Yugi paused by the grandiose fireplace, his violet eyes shimmering with emotion. “I’m going up there. I have to help Tea and Mokuba. I know I was too late to help Joey...” He turned abruptly, tears streaming down his face and the moonlight catching the fire in his eyes. “I won’t let Tea and Mokuba down like I did Joey! I can’t. If you three want to fight about it, I’ll just go alone.”
“Yugi…” Duke took a step forward.
Tristan sighed, sitting up straighter in his chair with a grimace, “I know how you feel, Yugi. I wish I’d been able to stop him. But maybe we can save Tea and Mokuba, get them out of that room before Kaiba thinks to look for them. Yugi he’s dangerous! I mean look at us! Two handicaps, a fruit, and a hair band reject. What the hell kind of chances are those?”
Duke glared daggers at him, “Who are you calling a hair band reject?!”
Pegasus snorted, flipping back his silver mane. “Well you can toss about insults all you like; in fact, it adequately reflects your intelligence. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to do what you are so obviously ill-equipped for - namely help! Come along, Duke.”
Yugi sighed, putting his palm on his forehead and wishing Tea was here to help him straighten the guys out. “You’ve got to stop arguing. If we do have any chance of stopping Kaiba, then we have to work as a team. Joey would have wanted us to.”
“But I can’t come with you with this bad leg. Kaiba smacked the shit out of it!” He grit his teeth, turning away. “I can’t even avenge my own friend.”
Duke put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay, man. You tried. But,” Duke looked from Pegasus and Yugi to the prone Tristan, “we can’t just leave you here. What if Kaiba comes back to finish the job?”
Tristan pushed Duke’s hand away as though it stung, “Don’t worry about me in that arena. If Kaiba comes back - I’ve got one hell of a score to settle with him.”
Duke shook his head and gave his friend a worried look. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll be able to do much this time around.”
“Well if you hadn’t held me back, I’d have beat his ass right there!”
”Well if you weren’t such an idiot -- ”
“Hey, that’ll work!” Tristan pointed into the dusty hearth. “Duke, do something useful for once and bring that over here.”
Duke peered into the darkness, sighing as he made his way over to the fireplace. “You’re crazy, man.”
“No,” Pegasus declared, eyes wide. “You can’t seriously mean…”
Duke turned around with a smile plastered over his face. “Yup. It’s a disguise! If he smears ashes all over himself Kaiba might think he’s part of the decoration!”
“Shut up, Duke! That’s not what I meant! Bring me that goddamned poker.”
Duke’s smiled melted into horror. “What?”
Pegasus whipped around to glare at Tristan, “You’re insane! Kaiba hasn’t even been proven guilty yet. For heaven’s sake let’s at least talk to the boy. He’s probably in shock.” Pegasus crossed his arms and looked around the room for some support. Yugi kept his eyes downcast as Duke looked from the poker to Tristan in defeat. Tristan stared intently at Duke, as if he hadn’t even heard Pegasus speak. “You’re all crazy! What kind of people are you? Yugi-boy, you can’t possibly condone this! He’ll kill Kaiba without a second thought. And for what? For rambling incoherently about killing someone? He does that all the time!”
Yugi sighed, “This is different, Pegasus. You haven’t seen him. He and Joey were in a fight. A bad one. It’s …hard to explain.”
Pegasus glared, “A fight is certainly no justification for murder.”
Tristan nodded, “Exactly why I need that poker. If he killed Joey, he could be out to kill any of us.”
The room was silent for a moment as they all weighed the consequences. Yugi finally spoke up, “Well he does need a weapon. If not against Kaiba, then at least against anything else that might come down here. I’m tired of being taken by surprise.” Almost in response, the temperature seemed to drop a little. The shadows felt deeper and darker, and it felt as though something could reach out and grab them at any moment. They all felt exposed, bare and at the mercy of the Overlook which coiled about them in its unrelenting grasp.
Duke nodded reluctantly and wrenched the poker from its metal casing, piercing the thick air with a sharp shriek of metal. They all cringed. It was like ringing a gong in a graveyard and once it was free, Duke held it sheepishly amazed at his own brazenness.
Pegasus’ face was expressionless. He’d backed up to one of the dusty armchairs and was leaning upon it heavily as a cane. His eye was glazed, and when he spoke it was low and fearful. “No, this isn’t right. It’s what it wants… You can’t give in to that, even if Kaiba-boy really did … really did ….”
“We can only do so much. We have to believe that Kaiba can help himself too, if he wants to.” Yugi sighed. His shoulders were slumped as though he alone held the weight of the consequences. “We don’t really have any other option.”
Pegasus glared fiercely, “Oh, I see how it is. You think Kaiba can take care of himself. Interesting stance from the person who always wants to help his friends. Showing your true, selfish colors, Yugi-boy?” Pegasus smiled viciously. “The Overlook wants you to give in to those feelings, the hate you feel for Kaiba. It makes you think there are no more options but really there always are.” His eye was wide, almost crazed as he hissed, “There’s always another way. You just have to know where to look and have the courage to act on it. Believe me, I know!”
“Just shut up, Pegasus,” Tristan snapped. “If this was reversed and you were stuck down here with a broken leg, I’m sure you’d be more than willing to have a weapon.” He snatched the poker from Duke, and held it in both hands like a Louisville slugger gauging its weight and caressing the rusted metal.
Pegasus shook his head, “Look, I agree that Seto Kaiba has a long list of faults. He’s rash, and sometimes he does make hot-headed decisions. And yes, I suspected that he attacked one or two people for their Blue-Eyes White Dragons, but I was never able to determine that positively because they never pressed any charges. I refuse to believe he’d kill Joey Wheeler - he’d never kill a fellow duelist! And besides, for all of his blustering, he considers him a rival. He’d keep the boy around just to inflate his own ego!”
“By attack, you mean what exactly?” Tristan frowned.
“Umm…”
“Did he just beat the shit out of them? Threaten them at gunpoint? Blackmail? Come on, you’ve got to help us out here. We need to know what kind of monster he is.”
Pegasus pursed his lips, drawing himself to his full height. “Like I said, it was never conclusive. Only conjecture. And besides that was a long time ago. You have no idea the sort of things that Kaiba’s undergone in his lifetime, and he’s held up fine so far. I’ve known Kaiba a long time, and for all his faults he’s a good person.”
Tristan gritted his teeth, “I’m not going to sit here and listen to a sob story about Joey’s murderer! What are you his lawyer? Just get the hell out of here and check on Tea and Mokuba. You’re wasting time preaching to me!”
Pegasus opened his mouth to respond but closed it, shaking his head and seething in anger. He hissed through his teeth and turned to the elevator. “Well come on then, Yugi! Duke! We’d best be quick before Tristan does something even dumber than usual!”
Yugi and Duke exchanged glances as Pegasus angrily mashed the button. “I guess we’d better follow him then, Duke.” Yugi sighed, moving over to Tristan to squeeze his shoulder. “Tristan, just be careful. Don’t… get carried away and do something you’ll regret.”
Tristan just smiled, “I’ve been in fights before, Yugi. I can keep my head. You just make sure the others are okay and don’t leave me down here too long. This room’s already giving me the creeps and you guys haven’t even left yet.” Tristan shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. His lingering pain was still obvious as he took in a slow, steadying breath. “I hope Pegasus is right. I want us to get lucky. I want Joey to walk through those doors as soon as you guys leave, and tell me it was a big joke. I want so badly, Yugi, to be left feeling stupid about this whole thing. It’d be better than how I feel now…”
Yugi managed a shaky smile, his lower lip quivering. Why did he get the feeling that this would be the last time he’d see Tristan alive? He’d seen Joey, everything had been fine. There’d been no indication that something would happen, that he just wouldn’t be there anymore. It made Yugi wonder who was next. Who did the Overlook have fingered as its next victim? And even if the rest of them got out alive, how long could their friendship hope to last? Without Joey’s smiling face, he honestly couldn’t imagine hanging out with his friends the same way again. He’d always be reminded of the empty pain that was slowly taking up residence in his heart.
Yugi turned away, wiping his eyes quickly as he headed toward the elevator. Duke patted Tristan on the shoulder. “I hate leaving you down here…”
“I know, man. Don’t start getting all weepy on me now. You’re such a girl sometimes…”
Duke smiled, “I am not! Besides, my makeup would run.”
“You’re a dork,” Tristan said, his laughter lacking its usual mirth.
“Just don’t go stabbing yourself in the foot, man. I know how confused you can get sometimes. Remember - this is your right, and this is your left. It’s a wonder you’re able to tie your shoes in the morning without me.”
“Well I guess I’ll have to learn fast, won’t I?”
Duke gave him a half hearted smile, and was about to toss in one more asinine comment for good measure when suddenly a piercing shriek shot from upstairs, snapping them all to attention. The elevator dinged. Everyone froze, the breath caught in their throats.
Duke whispered, eyes wide, “That was a girl…”
Yugi felt as though someone had turned on the lights in his head as a surge of adrenaline had his legs moving before he was even aware of it. If anything happened to Tea, and if Kaiba was somehow involved… Yugi felt his hands clenching as the three piled into the elevator. He didn’t know what he would do.