Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction
A Yu-Gi-Oh! Christmas Carol
By: Gema J. Gall
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is owned by Kazuki Takahashi. I case you
haven't figure it out yet, that is not me! A Christmas Carol is the
work of Charles Dickens, not Gema J. Gall. I also don't own Drake or
Lara, they belong to E-100 Alpha. His Fellowship of Dragoon is
AWESOME! Read it! Shayla and Martin are my original characters.
Gema J. Gall: I was not drinking eggnog when I wrote this! Why do you
even think such a thing? I was not drinking eggnog! I don't even
like eggnog! Quit giving me those weird looks!
Shayla: It wasn't the eggnog. It was the double hot chocolate with
marshmallows, whipped cream, cinnamon, and candy cane.
Martin: And she didn't even share!
Seto: That isn't our problem! Did you see the title for this story?!
Joe: Oh, no!
Tristan: And she is sugar high!
Gema J. Gall: I am NOT! Why does everyone keep saying that? I am not
hyper! I am not sugar high! I got this idea while sitting under the
Christmas tree on Christmas day. I was NOT drinking the eggnog!
Drake: At least we are safe, Lara.
Lara: Thank the Lord!
Tristan: I don't think so. Did you read the disclaimer. *Lara and
Drake sweat-drop.*
Drake: RUN! *Drake and Lara flee,*
E-100 Alpha: I blame the penguins. Where is POF?
Gema J. Gall: They ran when they saw me with the hot cocoa! *Laughs
evilly.*
Tea: Now, I am afraid.
Yu-Gi: It won't be that bad. Will it?
Gema J. Gall: No, TINY TIM! *More evil laughter.*
Yu-Gi: Let's get out of here!
Joe: I am with you! *Yu-Gi and Joe run away.*
Seto: *As he read the script* How dare you?! You made me.....
*Trails of as Gema rams a marshmallow down his throat.*
Gema J. Gall: Don't spoil it! *Enter Marik, Shadi, and Isis.*
Isis: She actually put us in this thing!
Shadi: Even Fox Kids doesn't give us this air time.
Marik: You make it seem like that is a bad thing.
Isis: I foresee trouble if we stick around here. We must leave. *They
exit.*
E-100 Alpha: That was weird.....
Seto: *grumble* You even put Pegasus in this!
Pegasus: *as he races on stage* What?!
Gema J. Gall: You are spoiling this! *Pushes Seto Kaiba and Pegasus
off stage.*
Mai: How dare you hook me up with that..... *Has a marshmallow shoved
down her throat from almost giving away part of the plot.*
Gema J. Gall: You KNOW you like him! Don't say you don't! Consider
me doing you a favor!
Mai: *to Tea and Shayla* Let's get out of here. We can have a girls
day at the mall or something.
Tea: It has to be better than waiting for that sugar high author to
decide our fate.
Shayla: I agree *They exit*
Martin: Even I got a part!
Mokuba: So did I.
Martin: Why so sad?
Mokuba: Because she gave me a WIFE!
All: What?
Gema J. Gall: SHHH! She is our guest star!
Tristan: Great! We'd better get out of here! Don't you get it! This
hyper maniac had
control of us for the rest of this story unless we run! *Martin,
Mokuba, and Tristan run. *Enter Bakura)
Bakura: I just got here, what did I miss.
E-100 Alpha: Gema started a new fic. You'd better run!
Gema J. Gall: Why is everyone running? And quit looking at me like
that! I am not hyper! I only had three double hot cocoas! I am not
hyper!
Bakura: I am out of here! *He runs*
E-100 Alpha: *Looks around* Everyone ran.
Gema J. Gall: They cannot escape from me! I have the keyboard!
*Lots of evil laughter.* I need some more hot cocoa!
**************************************************************************** ****
Marik Marley was dead, to begin with. There can be no doubt when that
is said. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman,
clerk, the under taker, and the chief mourner. Seto Scrooge signed
it.
(Marik: Great! The story hasn't even started and she killed me!)
(Seto: Care to trade parts? She made me Scrooge! *Evil laughter heard
from a distance.*)
Marik Marley was as dead as a doornail.
(Gema J. Gall: How can a doornail be dead? It is an inanimate
object! Dead as a coffin nail sounds better, anyways. Yippee! More
hot cocoa!)
Let me repeat, Marik Marley was as dead as a coffin nail. Seto
Scrooge knew he was dead, too. Of course he did. How could he not?
Scrooge and Marley were business partners for who knows how many years
before that. Seto was his sole executor, sole administrator, sole
assign, sole residuary legatee, sole friend, and sole mourner. Even
though Scrooge was disturbed by the passing of his friend, after the
funeral he went right back to work and buried the incident in his
mind.
The funeral brings us back to wear we started. Marik Marley is dead.
There is no doubt of that. There cannot be any doubt for any thing
wonderful to come of this story. Marik Marley is dead, do not think
otherwise. He has to be dead for this story to have an supernatural
meaning.
(Scene begins with Seto Scrooge walking through 18th century English
streets. It is snowing and Christmas Eve. Narration continues.)
Seto Scrooge never painted Marik Marley's name out of the counting
house sign. It stood, years afterwards and read Scrooge and Marley.
The firm was know as Scrooge and Marley. People called Seto Scrooge
Marley occasional, and he responded. It was all the same to him.
He was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone. Seto, a squeezing,
wrenching, grasping, scraping, covetous old sinner. Hard and sharp as
flint, from which no steel had ever struck a generous fire. He was a
secret, self contained, solitary oyster. The cold within him froze
his features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened
his gait, made his eyes red, his lips thin and blue, and caused him to
speak in a shrew, grating voice. A frosty rim coated his head,
eyebrows, and wiry chin. He always carried this low temperature with
him, into his icy office. And it didn't thaw one degree on Christmas!
(Seto: I am NOT like that! I am getting my lawyers!)
(Gema J. Gall: No you aren't. I control the keyboard! *Evil
laughter*)
(Seto: I thought you said I was your favorite character!)
(Gema J. Gall: You are, and you are the perfect Scrooge! Work with
me, I have A
Christmas Carol open beside me. I am writing like Charles Dickens!
Yippee! More hot cocoa!)
External heat and cold had little influence on Seto Scrooge. No
warmth could warm him, no wintry weather could chill him. No bitter
wind was bitterer than he. No foul weather was fouler than he. The
heaviest rain, snow, hail, and sleet had only one advantage over him,
and that was how they looked when they fell down.
Nobody ever stopped on the street to greet him. No beggars asked him
for spare change. No children asked him the time. No man or woman
ever asked him how he was doing. Even the dogs seemed to know him,
and coward.
(Seto: You are going to PAY for this, Gema! *Gema smiles and holds
her cup of hot cocoa.*)
But did Seto Scrooge care? This was the way he liked it. He like the
way the crowds parted as he slunk through. He liked all sympathy to
keep its distance. He could care less for the disdainful glances that
were shot behind his back.
It was Christmas Eve and Seto Scrooge sat in his counting house. The
weather was cold, bleak, biting, and foggy withal. Seto could hear
the people outside trying to clap their hands, stop their feet, and
blow on their fingers to keep warm. It was already dark out, even
thought it was not yet three in the afternoon. It had been dark all
day. Candles flickered in windows and smoke curled out of chimneys.
Fog laced the streets, threatening to creep in through keyholes,
chinks, and gutters.
The door of Scrooge's office was open. He did this so he might keep
an eye on his clerk, Joe Cratchit. Joe Cratchit was in a dingy
cubicle just out side of the office door. Seto Scrooge had a very
small fire in his office. But Joe's fire was so small one would think
it was a single coal glowing hotly. Joe desperately wanted the
warmth, but Scrooge kept the coal in his office, under lock and key.
Cratchit pulled his comforter closer and tried to
warm his hands on the single candle he had for light.
(Joe: You did WHAT to me!?)
(Seto: Join the party. *Gema smiles innocently.*)
(Joe: I am going to get you for this!)
(Gema J. Gall: Nope! I have the keyboard and hot cocoa! *Smiles
sweetly but laughs
evilly.*)
"Merry Christmas, uncle!" the door of the counting house opening,
bringing tin the cold winter weather. But the weather was probably
warmer than the counting house. The speaker was, obviously, Scrooge's
nephew, Mokuba.
"Bah!" snapped Seto Scrooge. "Humbug!"
(Seto: NO! Mokuba! She got you, too!)
(Mokuba: Help! She is sugar high!)
(Gema J. Gall: But he makes such a cute nephew!)
(Joe: *to E-100 Alpha* You are the only one of us she doesn't have
plans for. HELP!)
(E-100 Alpha: I would, but she is liable to kill me.)
(Joe: At least take away her hot cocoa!)
(E-100 Alpha: I may have a better idea....)
Mokuba entered and walked briskly up to his brother's ....err....
uncle's desk. Snowflakes fell to the floor as he walked. His eyes
show brightly, his face glowed. The cold had only made his cheeks a
brighter red color.
"Christmas, a humbug, uncle?" said Mokuba. "You don't mean it!"
"I do," snapped Seto Scrooge. "Merry Christmas!" He spat. "What
reason do you have to
be merry? You are poor enough!"
"What right do you have to be angry?" his nephew, Mokuba, countered.
"You're rich enough!"
"Bah!" Scrooge repeated. "Humbug!"
"Don't be mad," said Mokuba.
"What else can I be?" retorted Seto. "I live in a world full of
fools! Merry Christmas, indeed! Screw Christmas! What is Christmas,
but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself
a year older, and not an hour richer; a time for relatives to pester
you again?! If I had it my way, every idiot who ever said 'Merry
Christmas' would be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a
stake of holly through his heart!"
"Uncle!" cried Mokuba.
(Seto: Gema, You are in so much trouble! You are making me be mean to
Mokuba!)
"Nephew!" snapped Seto Scrooge before his nephew could plead with him.
"Keep
Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine!"
"Keep it!" protested Mokuba. "But you don't keep it at all!"
"Then, let me leave it alone!" snapped Scrooge. "Much good it will
ever do you! Much good it has ever done you!"
"There are many good things I have done, which have no profited me
any," admitted Mokuba. "Christmas is one of them. But Christmas time
is sacred. It is a time for kindness, forgiving, charity,
pleasantries.... It is the only time I know of in the entire year,
when men and women open their shut up hearts freely, and think of
others as their equals. Therefore, uncle, though it has never put a
scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe it has done me good,
and will continue to do me good! And I say God bless it!"
(Mokuba: I don't even know what I just said!)
Joe Cratchit began to applaud the noble speech. But Seto Scrooge
glared him down. Joe ducked away and began to poke at his fire. With
a spark it went out forever.
"If I hear another sound from you," Seto snapped at the clerk.
"You'll keep Christmas by losing your job!" He turned to his nephew.
"You are quite the powerful speaker. Why don't you go into politics?"
"Don't be angry, Seto," pleaded Mokuba. "Come, dine with us
tomorrow!"
"Bah! Humbug!"
"But why not?" asked Mokuba.
"Why did you get married?" asked Scrooge.
"Because I fell in love," replied Mokuba.
(Mokuba: GEMA YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!)
(Gema J. Gall: *Smiles sweetly while holding her hot cocoa.* Don't
you like your wife, Mokuba? *Laughs evilly*)
(Seto: Someone, help!)
(Joe: Please, I am freezing, here!)
"Because you fell in love!" snapped Seto Scrooge. "There is only one
thing in this world worse than Christmas, and that is love! Good
afternoon!"
"But, Uncle Seto," protested Mokuba. "You never came to see me when I
was single, what excuse is marriage now?"
"Good afternoon!" repeated Scrooge. His response was as cold as his
heart.
"I want nothing from you. I ask nothing from you," pleaded Mokuba.
"Why can't we be friends?"
"Good afternoon!" snapped Seto, glaring at his nephew.
"I am sorry," said Mokuba, "With all my heart, to find you so
resolute. We have never fought with each other. But I honor
Christmas, and will continue to do so. So, Merry
Christmas, uncle!"
"Good afternoon!" Scrooge said through gritted teeth.
"And a Happy New Year!" said Mokuba cheerfully as he opened the door,
letting in the winter drafts.
"Good afternoon!" snapped Seto. "And bah, humbug!"
Mokuba left, not the least bit fazed by the icy attitude of his uncle.
He paused a moment to wish Joe Cratchit a Merry Christmas. Joe
responded happily, despite his boss's glare.
(Joe: Wait! Since when was Kaiba my boss?!)
(Gema J. Gall: As of now. *Smiles and puts another marshmallow in her
hot cocoa.*)
"There's another one," muttered Seto, bitterly. "My clerk, for a
dollar fifty a week, with a wife and family, talking about 'Merry
Christmas.' I am going insane!" Mokuba has just left. But through
the door he exited, two other gentlemen entered.
(Seto: Great, more victims.....)
(Gema J. Gall: I know! Ain't it great!)
They were pleasant looking enough. Each wearing identical coats, and
holding their hats in their hands.
"Scrooge and Marley's, I believe," said Bakura, as he looked at the
list in his hand. He looked up. "Do I have the pleasure of
addressing Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley?"
"Marik Marley has been dead for seven years," shot Seto Scrooge.
"Seven years ago, this very night."
"Then we have the honor of addressing his surviving partner, Mr.
Scrooge," smiled Shadi.
(Shadi: I think we got off easy.)
(Bakura: At least I don't have to deal with a psychotic yami.)
Scrooge frowned when he heard the introduction.
"At this festive time of year, Mr. Scrooge," continued Bakura,
oblivious to the glare Seto
Scrooge was giving him. "it is desirable that we should take a slight
provision for the
poor and destitute, who are suffering greatly."
"Many," continued Shadi. "No, thousands, are in need of common
necessities common
comforts."
"Are there no prisons?" asked Seto.
"Plenty of prisons," replied Bakura, a tad confused.
"And the Union work houses, are they still in operation?"
"They are, still," admitted Shadi, sadly. "I wish I could say they
were not."
"And the Treadmill and Poor Law are still in effect, correct?" asked
Scrooge.
"Both very busy, sir," answered Bakura.
"Oh! I was afraid from what you first said, that something had
happened to stop them
from their useful course," said Scrooge with an evil smile. "I am very
glad to hear it."
"But these barely provide," Shadi pointed out. "They hardly provide
the good Christian
cheer for the multitude during this wonderful time of year. A few of
us are trying to raise
money to provide some food, drink, and warmth for those in need.
During this time of
all, because want is so deeply felt and abundance rejoices. How much
can I put you down
for?"
"Nothing!"
"You wish to be left anonymous?" asked Bakura.
"I wish to be left alone!" snapped Seto Scrooge. "Since, you asked me
what I wish,
gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't celebrate Christmas, and I
cannot afford to make
idle people merry at Christmas. I help support, with my taxes, the
aforementioned
establishments, they cost enough. Those who are badly off must go
there."
"Many cannot go there," said Shadi. "And many would rather die."
"If they would rather die," retorted Scrooge, heartlessly. "Then they
had better do it, and
decrease the surplus population! That is not my business!"
(Seto: You are making me seem like a heartless creep!)
(Gema J. Gall: Just wait until the story ends!)
"But-" protested Bakura.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," snapped Scrooge. Shadi and Bakura saw
that it was
useless to argue with him any further, so they left. Seto went back
to his work, more
feverishly than ever.
The day had grown darker still, and people were seldom seen on the
streets. A mournful
church bell rang. This seemed to Joe Cratchit to exemplify the day
with his boss. The
wind picked up. A few homeless people huddle closer to their trash
can fire for warmth.
But from the penthouses to the ghetto, not a single person stirred
from their homes.
In these conditions on lone caroler tried to earn a few pennies for
his family. His clothing
was threadbare and patched, but his voice was full of Christmas cheer.
His voice filled
the streets. His only mistake was standing outside of Scrooge and
Marley's.
"Good rest you, merry gentlemen," sang Martin. "may nothing you
dismay!"
(Martin: She has me singing?!)
(Joe: This has gone too far! *Gema laughs evilly.*)
Seto Scrooge grabbed the nearest thing, a paper weight and stormed to
the door. He
threw it opened and prepared to deck the caroler with it. Martin saw
this and fled in fear.
Joe Cratchit gaped at the new low of his employer.
It finally came time for closing. Seto begrudgingly allowed Joe to
leave. Joe eagerly blew
out his candle and threw on his coat.
"I suppose you'll be wanting tomorrow off," said Scrooge, his voice
like ice.
"If it is convenient, sir," said Joe.
(Joe: Wait a minute! You have me calling Kaiba, 'sir' now.)
(Seto: At least one thing is going good now.)
"No, it isn't," snapped Seto. "And it isn't fair. And I suppose if I
didn't pay you, you
would think it unfair, right?" Joe just smiled. "And yet, I am
supposed to think it fair
when I pay you a day's wages for no work!"
"But it is only once a year," protested Joe.
"A poor excuse for picking a business's man's pocket every twenty-
fifth of December,"
shot Scrooge. "Take the whole day! But be here earlier the next!"
"Thank you, sir!" smiled Joe Cratchit. "And a Merry Christmas to
you!" Joe raced out
before his boss could yell.
"Bah, humbug," muttered Seto as he put on his coat. He walked through
the dismay
streets to his home.
The building he resided in had once belonged to Marik Marley. The
rooms were gloomy,
and the entire building was decrepit. Scrooge was the only one who
lived there, save for
the rooms he rented out to be used as offices. The yard was so dark
that even Scrooge, who knew it like the back of his hand, was forced
to grope his way to the door. The building was covered with frost,
snow, and fog, making it seem unreal, or even surreal. The weather
added to its mournful appearance.
Seto Scrooge approached the door. The door had only on fancy thing
about it, and that was the large brass knocker. Seto had seen in
hundreds of times in his passing through the door, and had though
nothing of the knocker. Just a reminder, Marley is dead, and Scrooge
had not thought about him since the charity workers mentioned him,
earlier today.
When Seto Scrooge went to put his key into the keyhole, he happened to
glance at this knocker. And what he saw made him gasp. Instead of
the knocker he saw Marik Marley's face! Scrooge clearly saw this,
despite the darkness of the yard. The face was not angry or fierce.
It was the face the Seto had worked with so many years before. The
hair was still in the cold winter wind. They eyes were wide open, and
unblinking. It was pale, making the face horrible and ghastly. But
the horror did not lay in the face itself, but what it represented.
As Seto Scrooge stared at it, it became the brass knocker again.
(Marik: Great! Not only am I dead, but I become an inanimate object!
Someone stop this
girl!)
It would be a lie to say that Scrooge was not startled and disturbed
by this. His blood had
ran colder than it already was. But Scrooge proceeded to open the
door and enter. He shut the door behind him and lit a candle.
Seto turned and paused for a moment, looking at the back of the door.
He, half-terrified, has expected to see Marik's pigtail on the
backside of the door. But, there was nothing.
(Marik: I DO NOT HAVE A PIGTAIL! GEMA! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH
YOU!)
(Gema J. Gall: Can we discuss this over hot cocoa?)
"Bah, humbug!" spat Seto. And echoed resounded through the entire
house, but Scrooge paid it no mind. He was not one to be startled by
noises. The apparition had only shaken him slightly. Even when a
strange wind raced down the long staircase and blew out his only
candle, Scrooge did not jump. The wind sounded like a train, but the
heartless miser was not intimidated.
Scrooge did not care that it was dark. He liked the dark, because it
was cheap. But as he shut the door to his chamber, he examined every
corner, just to make sure. Everything was as it should be. No one
was under the table, or the sofa. The cold fireplace with his
leftover gruel remained as he had left it that morning. No one was
under the bed, or in the closet. His bathrobe hung where he left it.
His slippers had not been disturbed. Everything was in its place.
(Seto: GRUEL! I don't believe it! *Begins to sputter in rage.*)
(Gema: Think of it as oatmeal.)
Satisfied, he closed the door. Then he proceeded to double lock it.
Only then did Seto Scrooge feel safe enough to settle down for the
night. Once he was comfortable in his bathrobe, he sat down for his
meager meal of day old gruel.
Seto started a small fire. It was so small, that he had to huddle
close to it, lean over it, to feel any warmth whatsoever. Several
pictures hung above the mantel. In Scrooge's half conscious mind
every one began to resemble Marik. Seto shook his head.
"Humbug!" he said. He walked across the room, then paced back.
He leaned against the chair as he sat down again. A small bell on the
mantel caught his eye. It was covered in cobwebs, and had not been
used in so long its purpose had been forgotten. It was probably used
to summon servants, but that is not what is important. This disused
bell began to ring. Scrooge watched it with dread. It was quiet at
first, but the bell rang louder and louder. Another bell, then
another joined it. Soon, every bell in
the house was ringing.
This might have taken thirty seconds, but to Seto Scrooge it lasted an
hour. The bells ceased together, leaving their morbid echo. They
were succeeded by a low clanking noise, that came from somewhere deep
in the house. It sounded like heavy chains being drug over concrete
slabs. From some distant memory, Scrooge remembered ghosts were said
to wear chains.
The sound of the cellar doors opening was the next thing Seto heard.
Then the chains came closer to him, going across the lower floors.
Then the sound of chains being drug up the stairs reached his ears.
"Humbug! I will not believe it!" snapped Seto as he sank lower into
his chair.
His face paled, however, when, without a pause, 'it' came straight
through the heavy double locked doors of his chamber. When 'it'
entered the fire shot up for a brief second, then went out. Seto was
white with fright.
The face of the apparition was the face on the knocker, Marik Marley.
The ghost had his pigtail, waistcoat, pants, and boots. The only
unusual thing about him was the chain that locked around his waist.
The chain was long. It wound around him a few times before dangling
behind him like a tail. Attached to the chain were cash-boxes, keys,
padlocks, and heavy steel purses. His body was transparent. Scrooge
could see his back buttons clearly.
(Marik: Great! I am a transparent dead guy with shackles! Great! It
doesn't get much better than this!)
(Gema J. Gall: I can make it better! *Mixes her hot cocoa with a
candy cane.*)
(All: NO!)
(Seto: You have done enough!)
Seto Scrooge had heard people say the Marley had no guts, but had
never believed it until now. No, he didn't believe it, not even now.
He triple checked the phantom standing before him. He felt the death
cold eyes on him. But Seto fought his very sense.
(Marik: Time out! Low blow! No fair!)
(Gema J. Gall: Let the Millennial Scales decide what is fair.)
(Seto: But Shayla isn't here.)
(Gema: Exactly!)
"What do you want with me?" asked Scrooge.
"Much," answered the ghost.
"Who are you?" asked Seto, nervously.
"Ask me, who I was," replied the specter.
"Who were you, then?"
"In life, I was your business partner, Marik Marley."
"Can....you sit down?" asked Scrooge, with a doubtful look.
"I can," responded Marley.
"Then do so," said Seto. Marik sat down in the chair opposite of
Scrooge, as if he always
had.
"You don't believe in me," said the ghost.
"No," answered Scrooge, with his famous icy voice.
"Why do you doubt your own senses?"
"Because," snapped Seto. "Every little thing affects them. A slight
stomach ache. You
may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of
cheese, a piece of
undercooked potato. There is more gravy to grave than you, whatever
you are!"
Seto Scrooge was not one for jokes. He only resorted to humor to
desperately try to
convince himself that he wasn't seeing what he was seeing. He needed
to control his
terror, for this ghost scared him to the very marrow of his bones. He
felt that if he looked
at those dead eyes any longer, he would go insane.
"You see this toothpick," Seto continued. Marik nodded. "All I have
to is swallow it.
Then, for the rest of the week I would be persecuted by a legion of
demons, all of my own
creation. Humbug!"
Marik Marley let out a frightful cry while shaking his chains. The
sound was dismal and
appalling, and deafening. Seto Scrooge held onto his chair for dear
life. His face was
blank with the horror he was living.
"Mercy!" begged Seto. "Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?"
"Do you believe me or not?" asked Marley.
"I do!" cried Scrooge. "But why do ghosts walk the earth. And why do
you came to
me?"
"It is required," said Marik. "That every person walk abroad with his
fellow humans. If
that person does not do you in life, then that person does it in
death. I am doomed to
wonder the world, witness what I cannot share, agonize over happiness
that is not mine!"
"What is with the chains?" asked Seto.
"I wear the chain I made in life," replied Marley. "I made it, link
by link, yard by yard. I
made it of my own free-will, and wore it of my own free will. Does
this seem strange to
you?" Scrooge did not reply, he just sat there shaking. "You know
the length and weight
of this coil. Yours was this full and heavy seven years ago! And you
have added to it
since! It is a heavy chain!"
Seto Scrooge glanced frantically at the floor, as if any minute he
expected a chain to appear around his own body. He saw nothing,
though.
"Marik!" cried Scrooge. "Tell me no more! Give me a word of
comfort!"
"I have none to give," Marley replied in a voice as cold as Scrooge's.
"Comfort is not my
job. I cannot remain here much longer. I am doomed to wander, for in
life my spirit never went beyond the counting house door. Remember
that! My heart never left that money changing hole. And now, a
lengthy journey is before me."
"But you were always a good man of business, Marik," said Seto.
"Business!" cried Marik Marley. "Mankind was my business. The common
welfare was my business; charity, mercy, generosity, compassion,
kindness, and benevolence were all my business!" He clutched his
chain in grief. "And it is this time of year I suffer most! Why did
I not bless my fellow human beings in the true spirit of Christmas!?"
Scrooge was very disturbed by his former partner's rantings, but was
to afraid to stop them. "Hear me! My time is gone!"
"I will!" promised Scrooge. "But don't be hard on me! Just tell me,
Marik!"
"I am here tonight to warn you," said Marik "You have a chance and a
hope of escaping my fate!"
"You were always a good friend to me, Marik," said Seto with a nervous
smile.
"You will be haunted, by three spirits," said Marley. Scrooge's face
fell.
"Is that really necessary?" asked Scrooge.
"It is."
"I'd rather not."
"Without their visits," snapped Marik, "you cannot hope of escaping
your fate! The first
will arrive when the clock strikes one. The second will come tomorrow
at the same hour. The last will come the next night at midnight!"
"Can't I have them all at once and get over with it?" pleaded Scrooge.
"You will see me no more," said Marik. "But do not forget what
happened tonight." With
these final words Marik Marley rose and walked to the window. The
window opened before him, even though he did not touch it. With the
winter wind he blew out into the street. Seto Scrooge raced over and
looked out. There was nothing but swirling snow drifts. Not even an
impact mark where Marik may have hit. Seto shut and locked the
window.
"Humbug!" he spat before collapsing in his bed, exhausted emotional,
mentally, and physically.
Joe: Thank the Lord the first chapter is done!
Marik: I am glad I had a small part. But I am leaving while I still
can. *Runs.*
Seto: Gema! I am going to feed you to my Blue-Eyes!
Gema J. Gall: No you aren't. I control the keyboard, remember. But
during chapters, I
am going to get more cocoa! *leaves.*
Seto: Alpha!
E-100 Alpha: What?
Joe: We need your help!
E-100 Alpha: I don't know, Gema may hurt me.
Seto: *grabs Alpha by his shirt* I DON'T care! Get POF! We need the
to get control of Gema.
E-100 Alpha: OK, OK. But you have a big romance scene coming up.
*Joe and Seto sweat-drop.*
**************************************************************************** ****
A Yu-Gi-Oh! Christmas Carol
By: Gema J. Gall
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is owned by Kazuki Takahashi. I case you
haven't figure it out yet, that is not me! A Christmas Carol is the
work of Charles Dickens, not Gema J. Gall. I also don't own Drake or
Lara, they belong to E-100 Alpha. His Fellowship of Dragoon is
AWESOME! Read it! Shayla and Martin are my original characters.
Gema J. Gall: I was not drinking eggnog when I wrote this! Why do you
even think such a thing? I was not drinking eggnog! I don't even
like eggnog! Quit giving me those weird looks!
Shayla: It wasn't the eggnog. It was the double hot chocolate with
marshmallows, whipped cream, cinnamon, and candy cane.
Martin: And she didn't even share!
Seto: That isn't our problem! Did you see the title for this story?!
Joe: Oh, no!
Tristan: And she is sugar high!
Gema J. Gall: I am NOT! Why does everyone keep saying that? I am not
hyper! I am not sugar high! I got this idea while sitting under the
Christmas tree on Christmas day. I was NOT drinking the eggnog!
Drake: At least we are safe, Lara.
Lara: Thank the Lord!
Tristan: I don't think so. Did you read the disclaimer. *Lara and
Drake sweat-drop.*
Drake: RUN! *Drake and Lara flee,*
E-100 Alpha: I blame the penguins. Where is POF?
Gema J. Gall: They ran when they saw me with the hot cocoa! *Laughs
evilly.*
Tea: Now, I am afraid.
Yu-Gi: It won't be that bad. Will it?
Gema J. Gall: No, TINY TIM! *More evil laughter.*
Yu-Gi: Let's get out of here!
Joe: I am with you! *Yu-Gi and Joe run away.*
Seto: *As he read the script* How dare you?! You made me.....
*Trails of as Gema rams a marshmallow down his throat.*
Gema J. Gall: Don't spoil it! *Enter Marik, Shadi, and Isis.*
Isis: She actually put us in this thing!
Shadi: Even Fox Kids doesn't give us this air time.
Marik: You make it seem like that is a bad thing.
Isis: I foresee trouble if we stick around here. We must leave. *They
exit.*
E-100 Alpha: That was weird.....
Seto: *grumble* You even put Pegasus in this!
Pegasus: *as he races on stage* What?!
Gema J. Gall: You are spoiling this! *Pushes Seto Kaiba and Pegasus
off stage.*
Mai: How dare you hook me up with that..... *Has a marshmallow shoved
down her throat from almost giving away part of the plot.*
Gema J. Gall: You KNOW you like him! Don't say you don't! Consider
me doing you a favor!
Mai: *to Tea and Shayla* Let's get out of here. We can have a girls
day at the mall or something.
Tea: It has to be better than waiting for that sugar high author to
decide our fate.
Shayla: I agree *They exit*
Martin: Even I got a part!
Mokuba: So did I.
Martin: Why so sad?
Mokuba: Because she gave me a WIFE!
All: What?
Gema J. Gall: SHHH! She is our guest star!
Tristan: Great! We'd better get out of here! Don't you get it! This
hyper maniac had
control of us for the rest of this story unless we run! *Martin,
Mokuba, and Tristan run. *Enter Bakura)
Bakura: I just got here, what did I miss.
E-100 Alpha: Gema started a new fic. You'd better run!
Gema J. Gall: Why is everyone running? And quit looking at me like
that! I am not hyper! I only had three double hot cocoas! I am not
hyper!
Bakura: I am out of here! *He runs*
E-100 Alpha: *Looks around* Everyone ran.
Gema J. Gall: They cannot escape from me! I have the keyboard!
*Lots of evil laughter.* I need some more hot cocoa!
**************************************************************************** ****
Marik Marley was dead, to begin with. There can be no doubt when that
is said. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman,
clerk, the under taker, and the chief mourner. Seto Scrooge signed
it.
(Marik: Great! The story hasn't even started and she killed me!)
(Seto: Care to trade parts? She made me Scrooge! *Evil laughter heard
from a distance.*)
Marik Marley was as dead as a doornail.
(Gema J. Gall: How can a doornail be dead? It is an inanimate
object! Dead as a coffin nail sounds better, anyways. Yippee! More
hot cocoa!)
Let me repeat, Marik Marley was as dead as a coffin nail. Seto
Scrooge knew he was dead, too. Of course he did. How could he not?
Scrooge and Marley were business partners for who knows how many years
before that. Seto was his sole executor, sole administrator, sole
assign, sole residuary legatee, sole friend, and sole mourner. Even
though Scrooge was disturbed by the passing of his friend, after the
funeral he went right back to work and buried the incident in his
mind.
The funeral brings us back to wear we started. Marik Marley is dead.
There is no doubt of that. There cannot be any doubt for any thing
wonderful to come of this story. Marik Marley is dead, do not think
otherwise. He has to be dead for this story to have an supernatural
meaning.
(Scene begins with Seto Scrooge walking through 18th century English
streets. It is snowing and Christmas Eve. Narration continues.)
Seto Scrooge never painted Marik Marley's name out of the counting
house sign. It stood, years afterwards and read Scrooge and Marley.
The firm was know as Scrooge and Marley. People called Seto Scrooge
Marley occasional, and he responded. It was all the same to him.
He was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone. Seto, a squeezing,
wrenching, grasping, scraping, covetous old sinner. Hard and sharp as
flint, from which no steel had ever struck a generous fire. He was a
secret, self contained, solitary oyster. The cold within him froze
his features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened
his gait, made his eyes red, his lips thin and blue, and caused him to
speak in a shrew, grating voice. A frosty rim coated his head,
eyebrows, and wiry chin. He always carried this low temperature with
him, into his icy office. And it didn't thaw one degree on Christmas!
(Seto: I am NOT like that! I am getting my lawyers!)
(Gema J. Gall: No you aren't. I control the keyboard! *Evil
laughter*)
(Seto: I thought you said I was your favorite character!)
(Gema J. Gall: You are, and you are the perfect Scrooge! Work with
me, I have A
Christmas Carol open beside me. I am writing like Charles Dickens!
Yippee! More hot cocoa!)
External heat and cold had little influence on Seto Scrooge. No
warmth could warm him, no wintry weather could chill him. No bitter
wind was bitterer than he. No foul weather was fouler than he. The
heaviest rain, snow, hail, and sleet had only one advantage over him,
and that was how they looked when they fell down.
Nobody ever stopped on the street to greet him. No beggars asked him
for spare change. No children asked him the time. No man or woman
ever asked him how he was doing. Even the dogs seemed to know him,
and coward.
(Seto: You are going to PAY for this, Gema! *Gema smiles and holds
her cup of hot cocoa.*)
But did Seto Scrooge care? This was the way he liked it. He like the
way the crowds parted as he slunk through. He liked all sympathy to
keep its distance. He could care less for the disdainful glances that
were shot behind his back.
It was Christmas Eve and Seto Scrooge sat in his counting house. The
weather was cold, bleak, biting, and foggy withal. Seto could hear
the people outside trying to clap their hands, stop their feet, and
blow on their fingers to keep warm. It was already dark out, even
thought it was not yet three in the afternoon. It had been dark all
day. Candles flickered in windows and smoke curled out of chimneys.
Fog laced the streets, threatening to creep in through keyholes,
chinks, and gutters.
The door of Scrooge's office was open. He did this so he might keep
an eye on his clerk, Joe Cratchit. Joe Cratchit was in a dingy
cubicle just out side of the office door. Seto Scrooge had a very
small fire in his office. But Joe's fire was so small one would think
it was a single coal glowing hotly. Joe desperately wanted the
warmth, but Scrooge kept the coal in his office, under lock and key.
Cratchit pulled his comforter closer and tried to
warm his hands on the single candle he had for light.
(Joe: You did WHAT to me!?)
(Seto: Join the party. *Gema smiles innocently.*)
(Joe: I am going to get you for this!)
(Gema J. Gall: Nope! I have the keyboard and hot cocoa! *Smiles
sweetly but laughs
evilly.*)
"Merry Christmas, uncle!" the door of the counting house opening,
bringing tin the cold winter weather. But the weather was probably
warmer than the counting house. The speaker was, obviously, Scrooge's
nephew, Mokuba.
"Bah!" snapped Seto Scrooge. "Humbug!"
(Seto: NO! Mokuba! She got you, too!)
(Mokuba: Help! She is sugar high!)
(Gema J. Gall: But he makes such a cute nephew!)
(Joe: *to E-100 Alpha* You are the only one of us she doesn't have
plans for. HELP!)
(E-100 Alpha: I would, but she is liable to kill me.)
(Joe: At least take away her hot cocoa!)
(E-100 Alpha: I may have a better idea....)
Mokuba entered and walked briskly up to his brother's ....err....
uncle's desk. Snowflakes fell to the floor as he walked. His eyes
show brightly, his face glowed. The cold had only made his cheeks a
brighter red color.
"Christmas, a humbug, uncle?" said Mokuba. "You don't mean it!"
"I do," snapped Seto Scrooge. "Merry Christmas!" He spat. "What
reason do you have to
be merry? You are poor enough!"
"What right do you have to be angry?" his nephew, Mokuba, countered.
"You're rich enough!"
"Bah!" Scrooge repeated. "Humbug!"
"Don't be mad," said Mokuba.
"What else can I be?" retorted Seto. "I live in a world full of
fools! Merry Christmas, indeed! Screw Christmas! What is Christmas,
but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself
a year older, and not an hour richer; a time for relatives to pester
you again?! If I had it my way, every idiot who ever said 'Merry
Christmas' would be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a
stake of holly through his heart!"
"Uncle!" cried Mokuba.
(Seto: Gema, You are in so much trouble! You are making me be mean to
Mokuba!)
"Nephew!" snapped Seto Scrooge before his nephew could plead with him.
"Keep
Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine!"
"Keep it!" protested Mokuba. "But you don't keep it at all!"
"Then, let me leave it alone!" snapped Scrooge. "Much good it will
ever do you! Much good it has ever done you!"
"There are many good things I have done, which have no profited me
any," admitted Mokuba. "Christmas is one of them. But Christmas time
is sacred. It is a time for kindness, forgiving, charity,
pleasantries.... It is the only time I know of in the entire year,
when men and women open their shut up hearts freely, and think of
others as their equals. Therefore, uncle, though it has never put a
scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe it has done me good,
and will continue to do me good! And I say God bless it!"
(Mokuba: I don't even know what I just said!)
Joe Cratchit began to applaud the noble speech. But Seto Scrooge
glared him down. Joe ducked away and began to poke at his fire. With
a spark it went out forever.
"If I hear another sound from you," Seto snapped at the clerk.
"You'll keep Christmas by losing your job!" He turned to his nephew.
"You are quite the powerful speaker. Why don't you go into politics?"
"Don't be angry, Seto," pleaded Mokuba. "Come, dine with us
tomorrow!"
"Bah! Humbug!"
"But why not?" asked Mokuba.
"Why did you get married?" asked Scrooge.
"Because I fell in love," replied Mokuba.
(Mokuba: GEMA YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!)
(Gema J. Gall: *Smiles sweetly while holding her hot cocoa.* Don't
you like your wife, Mokuba? *Laughs evilly*)
(Seto: Someone, help!)
(Joe: Please, I am freezing, here!)
"Because you fell in love!" snapped Seto Scrooge. "There is only one
thing in this world worse than Christmas, and that is love! Good
afternoon!"
"But, Uncle Seto," protested Mokuba. "You never came to see me when I
was single, what excuse is marriage now?"
"Good afternoon!" repeated Scrooge. His response was as cold as his
heart.
"I want nothing from you. I ask nothing from you," pleaded Mokuba.
"Why can't we be friends?"
"Good afternoon!" snapped Seto, glaring at his nephew.
"I am sorry," said Mokuba, "With all my heart, to find you so
resolute. We have never fought with each other. But I honor
Christmas, and will continue to do so. So, Merry
Christmas, uncle!"
"Good afternoon!" Scrooge said through gritted teeth.
"And a Happy New Year!" said Mokuba cheerfully as he opened the door,
letting in the winter drafts.
"Good afternoon!" snapped Seto. "And bah, humbug!"
Mokuba left, not the least bit fazed by the icy attitude of his uncle.
He paused a moment to wish Joe Cratchit a Merry Christmas. Joe
responded happily, despite his boss's glare.
(Joe: Wait! Since when was Kaiba my boss?!)
(Gema J. Gall: As of now. *Smiles and puts another marshmallow in her
hot cocoa.*)
"There's another one," muttered Seto, bitterly. "My clerk, for a
dollar fifty a week, with a wife and family, talking about 'Merry
Christmas.' I am going insane!" Mokuba has just left. But through
the door he exited, two other gentlemen entered.
(Seto: Great, more victims.....)
(Gema J. Gall: I know! Ain't it great!)
They were pleasant looking enough. Each wearing identical coats, and
holding their hats in their hands.
"Scrooge and Marley's, I believe," said Bakura, as he looked at the
list in his hand. He looked up. "Do I have the pleasure of
addressing Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley?"
"Marik Marley has been dead for seven years," shot Seto Scrooge.
"Seven years ago, this very night."
"Then we have the honor of addressing his surviving partner, Mr.
Scrooge," smiled Shadi.
(Shadi: I think we got off easy.)
(Bakura: At least I don't have to deal with a psychotic yami.)
Scrooge frowned when he heard the introduction.
"At this festive time of year, Mr. Scrooge," continued Bakura,
oblivious to the glare Seto
Scrooge was giving him. "it is desirable that we should take a slight
provision for the
poor and destitute, who are suffering greatly."
"Many," continued Shadi. "No, thousands, are in need of common
necessities common
comforts."
"Are there no prisons?" asked Seto.
"Plenty of prisons," replied Bakura, a tad confused.
"And the Union work houses, are they still in operation?"
"They are, still," admitted Shadi, sadly. "I wish I could say they
were not."
"And the Treadmill and Poor Law are still in effect, correct?" asked
Scrooge.
"Both very busy, sir," answered Bakura.
"Oh! I was afraid from what you first said, that something had
happened to stop them
from their useful course," said Scrooge with an evil smile. "I am very
glad to hear it."
"But these barely provide," Shadi pointed out. "They hardly provide
the good Christian
cheer for the multitude during this wonderful time of year. A few of
us are trying to raise
money to provide some food, drink, and warmth for those in need.
During this time of
all, because want is so deeply felt and abundance rejoices. How much
can I put you down
for?"
"Nothing!"
"You wish to be left anonymous?" asked Bakura.
"I wish to be left alone!" snapped Seto Scrooge. "Since, you asked me
what I wish,
gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't celebrate Christmas, and I
cannot afford to make
idle people merry at Christmas. I help support, with my taxes, the
aforementioned
establishments, they cost enough. Those who are badly off must go
there."
"Many cannot go there," said Shadi. "And many would rather die."
"If they would rather die," retorted Scrooge, heartlessly. "Then they
had better do it, and
decrease the surplus population! That is not my business!"
(Seto: You are making me seem like a heartless creep!)
(Gema J. Gall: Just wait until the story ends!)
"But-" protested Bakura.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," snapped Scrooge. Shadi and Bakura saw
that it was
useless to argue with him any further, so they left. Seto went back
to his work, more
feverishly than ever.
The day had grown darker still, and people were seldom seen on the
streets. A mournful
church bell rang. This seemed to Joe Cratchit to exemplify the day
with his boss. The
wind picked up. A few homeless people huddle closer to their trash
can fire for warmth.
But from the penthouses to the ghetto, not a single person stirred
from their homes.
In these conditions on lone caroler tried to earn a few pennies for
his family. His clothing
was threadbare and patched, but his voice was full of Christmas cheer.
His voice filled
the streets. His only mistake was standing outside of Scrooge and
Marley's.
"Good rest you, merry gentlemen," sang Martin. "may nothing you
dismay!"
(Martin: She has me singing?!)
(Joe: This has gone too far! *Gema laughs evilly.*)
Seto Scrooge grabbed the nearest thing, a paper weight and stormed to
the door. He
threw it opened and prepared to deck the caroler with it. Martin saw
this and fled in fear.
Joe Cratchit gaped at the new low of his employer.
It finally came time for closing. Seto begrudgingly allowed Joe to
leave. Joe eagerly blew
out his candle and threw on his coat.
"I suppose you'll be wanting tomorrow off," said Scrooge, his voice
like ice.
"If it is convenient, sir," said Joe.
(Joe: Wait a minute! You have me calling Kaiba, 'sir' now.)
(Seto: At least one thing is going good now.)
"No, it isn't," snapped Seto. "And it isn't fair. And I suppose if I
didn't pay you, you
would think it unfair, right?" Joe just smiled. "And yet, I am
supposed to think it fair
when I pay you a day's wages for no work!"
"But it is only once a year," protested Joe.
"A poor excuse for picking a business's man's pocket every twenty-
fifth of December,"
shot Scrooge. "Take the whole day! But be here earlier the next!"
"Thank you, sir!" smiled Joe Cratchit. "And a Merry Christmas to
you!" Joe raced out
before his boss could yell.
"Bah, humbug," muttered Seto as he put on his coat. He walked through
the dismay
streets to his home.
The building he resided in had once belonged to Marik Marley. The
rooms were gloomy,
and the entire building was decrepit. Scrooge was the only one who
lived there, save for
the rooms he rented out to be used as offices. The yard was so dark
that even Scrooge, who knew it like the back of his hand, was forced
to grope his way to the door. The building was covered with frost,
snow, and fog, making it seem unreal, or even surreal. The weather
added to its mournful appearance.
Seto Scrooge approached the door. The door had only on fancy thing
about it, and that was the large brass knocker. Seto had seen in
hundreds of times in his passing through the door, and had though
nothing of the knocker. Just a reminder, Marley is dead, and Scrooge
had not thought about him since the charity workers mentioned him,
earlier today.
When Seto Scrooge went to put his key into the keyhole, he happened to
glance at this knocker. And what he saw made him gasp. Instead of
the knocker he saw Marik Marley's face! Scrooge clearly saw this,
despite the darkness of the yard. The face was not angry or fierce.
It was the face the Seto had worked with so many years before. The
hair was still in the cold winter wind. They eyes were wide open, and
unblinking. It was pale, making the face horrible and ghastly. But
the horror did not lay in the face itself, but what it represented.
As Seto Scrooge stared at it, it became the brass knocker again.
(Marik: Great! Not only am I dead, but I become an inanimate object!
Someone stop this
girl!)
It would be a lie to say that Scrooge was not startled and disturbed
by this. His blood had
ran colder than it already was. But Scrooge proceeded to open the
door and enter. He shut the door behind him and lit a candle.
Seto turned and paused for a moment, looking at the back of the door.
He, half-terrified, has expected to see Marik's pigtail on the
backside of the door. But, there was nothing.
(Marik: I DO NOT HAVE A PIGTAIL! GEMA! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH
YOU!)
(Gema J. Gall: Can we discuss this over hot cocoa?)
"Bah, humbug!" spat Seto. And echoed resounded through the entire
house, but Scrooge paid it no mind. He was not one to be startled by
noises. The apparition had only shaken him slightly. Even when a
strange wind raced down the long staircase and blew out his only
candle, Scrooge did not jump. The wind sounded like a train, but the
heartless miser was not intimidated.
Scrooge did not care that it was dark. He liked the dark, because it
was cheap. But as he shut the door to his chamber, he examined every
corner, just to make sure. Everything was as it should be. No one
was under the table, or the sofa. The cold fireplace with his
leftover gruel remained as he had left it that morning. No one was
under the bed, or in the closet. His bathrobe hung where he left it.
His slippers had not been disturbed. Everything was in its place.
(Seto: GRUEL! I don't believe it! *Begins to sputter in rage.*)
(Gema: Think of it as oatmeal.)
Satisfied, he closed the door. Then he proceeded to double lock it.
Only then did Seto Scrooge feel safe enough to settle down for the
night. Once he was comfortable in his bathrobe, he sat down for his
meager meal of day old gruel.
Seto started a small fire. It was so small, that he had to huddle
close to it, lean over it, to feel any warmth whatsoever. Several
pictures hung above the mantel. In Scrooge's half conscious mind
every one began to resemble Marik. Seto shook his head.
"Humbug!" he said. He walked across the room, then paced back.
He leaned against the chair as he sat down again. A small bell on the
mantel caught his eye. It was covered in cobwebs, and had not been
used in so long its purpose had been forgotten. It was probably used
to summon servants, but that is not what is important. This disused
bell began to ring. Scrooge watched it with dread. It was quiet at
first, but the bell rang louder and louder. Another bell, then
another joined it. Soon, every bell in
the house was ringing.
This might have taken thirty seconds, but to Seto Scrooge it lasted an
hour. The bells ceased together, leaving their morbid echo. They
were succeeded by a low clanking noise, that came from somewhere deep
in the house. It sounded like heavy chains being drug over concrete
slabs. From some distant memory, Scrooge remembered ghosts were said
to wear chains.
The sound of the cellar doors opening was the next thing Seto heard.
Then the chains came closer to him, going across the lower floors.
Then the sound of chains being drug up the stairs reached his ears.
"Humbug! I will not believe it!" snapped Seto as he sank lower into
his chair.
His face paled, however, when, without a pause, 'it' came straight
through the heavy double locked doors of his chamber. When 'it'
entered the fire shot up for a brief second, then went out. Seto was
white with fright.
The face of the apparition was the face on the knocker, Marik Marley.
The ghost had his pigtail, waistcoat, pants, and boots. The only
unusual thing about him was the chain that locked around his waist.
The chain was long. It wound around him a few times before dangling
behind him like a tail. Attached to the chain were cash-boxes, keys,
padlocks, and heavy steel purses. His body was transparent. Scrooge
could see his back buttons clearly.
(Marik: Great! I am a transparent dead guy with shackles! Great! It
doesn't get much better than this!)
(Gema J. Gall: I can make it better! *Mixes her hot cocoa with a
candy cane.*)
(All: NO!)
(Seto: You have done enough!)
Seto Scrooge had heard people say the Marley had no guts, but had
never believed it until now. No, he didn't believe it, not even now.
He triple checked the phantom standing before him. He felt the death
cold eyes on him. But Seto fought his very sense.
(Marik: Time out! Low blow! No fair!)
(Gema J. Gall: Let the Millennial Scales decide what is fair.)
(Seto: But Shayla isn't here.)
(Gema: Exactly!)
"What do you want with me?" asked Scrooge.
"Much," answered the ghost.
"Who are you?" asked Seto, nervously.
"Ask me, who I was," replied the specter.
"Who were you, then?"
"In life, I was your business partner, Marik Marley."
"Can....you sit down?" asked Scrooge, with a doubtful look.
"I can," responded Marley.
"Then do so," said Seto. Marik sat down in the chair opposite of
Scrooge, as if he always
had.
"You don't believe in me," said the ghost.
"No," answered Scrooge, with his famous icy voice.
"Why do you doubt your own senses?"
"Because," snapped Seto. "Every little thing affects them. A slight
stomach ache. You
may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of
cheese, a piece of
undercooked potato. There is more gravy to grave than you, whatever
you are!"
Seto Scrooge was not one for jokes. He only resorted to humor to
desperately try to
convince himself that he wasn't seeing what he was seeing. He needed
to control his
terror, for this ghost scared him to the very marrow of his bones. He
felt that if he looked
at those dead eyes any longer, he would go insane.
"You see this toothpick," Seto continued. Marik nodded. "All I have
to is swallow it.
Then, for the rest of the week I would be persecuted by a legion of
demons, all of my own
creation. Humbug!"
Marik Marley let out a frightful cry while shaking his chains. The
sound was dismal and
appalling, and deafening. Seto Scrooge held onto his chair for dear
life. His face was
blank with the horror he was living.
"Mercy!" begged Seto. "Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?"
"Do you believe me or not?" asked Marley.
"I do!" cried Scrooge. "But why do ghosts walk the earth. And why do
you came to
me?"
"It is required," said Marik. "That every person walk abroad with his
fellow humans. If
that person does not do you in life, then that person does it in
death. I am doomed to
wonder the world, witness what I cannot share, agonize over happiness
that is not mine!"
"What is with the chains?" asked Seto.
"I wear the chain I made in life," replied Marley. "I made it, link
by link, yard by yard. I
made it of my own free-will, and wore it of my own free will. Does
this seem strange to
you?" Scrooge did not reply, he just sat there shaking. "You know
the length and weight
of this coil. Yours was this full and heavy seven years ago! And you
have added to it
since! It is a heavy chain!"
Seto Scrooge glanced frantically at the floor, as if any minute he
expected a chain to appear around his own body. He saw nothing,
though.
"Marik!" cried Scrooge. "Tell me no more! Give me a word of
comfort!"
"I have none to give," Marley replied in a voice as cold as Scrooge's.
"Comfort is not my
job. I cannot remain here much longer. I am doomed to wander, for in
life my spirit never went beyond the counting house door. Remember
that! My heart never left that money changing hole. And now, a
lengthy journey is before me."
"But you were always a good man of business, Marik," said Seto.
"Business!" cried Marik Marley. "Mankind was my business. The common
welfare was my business; charity, mercy, generosity, compassion,
kindness, and benevolence were all my business!" He clutched his
chain in grief. "And it is this time of year I suffer most! Why did
I not bless my fellow human beings in the true spirit of Christmas!?"
Scrooge was very disturbed by his former partner's rantings, but was
to afraid to stop them. "Hear me! My time is gone!"
"I will!" promised Scrooge. "But don't be hard on me! Just tell me,
Marik!"
"I am here tonight to warn you," said Marik "You have a chance and a
hope of escaping my fate!"
"You were always a good friend to me, Marik," said Seto with a nervous
smile.
"You will be haunted, by three spirits," said Marley. Scrooge's face
fell.
"Is that really necessary?" asked Scrooge.
"It is."
"I'd rather not."
"Without their visits," snapped Marik, "you cannot hope of escaping
your fate! The first
will arrive when the clock strikes one. The second will come tomorrow
at the same hour. The last will come the next night at midnight!"
"Can't I have them all at once and get over with it?" pleaded Scrooge.
"You will see me no more," said Marik. "But do not forget what
happened tonight." With
these final words Marik Marley rose and walked to the window. The
window opened before him, even though he did not touch it. With the
winter wind he blew out into the street. Seto Scrooge raced over and
looked out. There was nothing but swirling snow drifts. Not even an
impact mark where Marik may have hit. Seto shut and locked the
window.
"Humbug!" he spat before collapsing in his bed, exhausted emotional,
mentally, and physically.
Joe: Thank the Lord the first chapter is done!
Marik: I am glad I had a small part. But I am leaving while I still
can. *Runs.*
Seto: Gema! I am going to feed you to my Blue-Eyes!
Gema J. Gall: No you aren't. I control the keyboard, remember. But
during chapters, I
am going to get more cocoa! *leaves.*
Seto: Alpha!
E-100 Alpha: What?
Joe: We need your help!
E-100 Alpha: I don't know, Gema may hurt me.
Seto: *grabs Alpha by his shirt* I DON'T care! Get POF! We need the
to get control of Gema.
E-100 Alpha: OK, OK. But you have a big romance scene coming up.
*Joe and Seto sweat-drop.*
**************************************************************************** ****