Disclaimer: No own. So sorry.
A/N: Expansion of a drabble I did for Cymoril Avalon. Not my usual pairing, but it's growing on me... o.O Sure. Why not! Short, dark and rather creepy. Yay for crack!pairings!
Blood was everywhere. And none of it was hers.
She wished she could remember exactly what happened, but everything was fuzzy and parts of her memory seemed to be missing all together. She couldn't remember who's blood it was.
When had this happened? What had happened? Who had done this?
She tried hazily to recover her scatter thoughts, her missing pieces of this afternoon, and could only remember screaming... High-pitched, horrifying screaming, unlike anything she'd ever heard before. That and cold, hard, maniacal laughter, filling her ears and her mind, grating like nails on a chalkboard.
What was she still doing here?
She couldn't move. She literally could not move from the spot she was at. It was as if she were rooted as deeply as a thousand-year-old oak. Slowly, she managed to turn her head, to look around the room and examine the blood-spattered walls, the pools of it forming on the wooden floor, the way it had soaked into the rugs.
It was almost pretty, if she didn't think about it being blood.
She vaguely remembered her niichan talking about some movie he'd seen, some old American horror movie, where the main character was killed very early on in the shower. He had been showing off his trivia knowledge and had told them that instead of blood, they had used chocolate syrup, since the movie had been in black and white.
It certainly wouldn't have worked had the movie been in colour...
Her eyes flicked over the rumpled- and yes, bloody- bed, towards the door, which she knew lead to the outside. Get up, Shizuka... Get up... Get up and run... But her muscles refused to obey, locked into place, keeping her curled up on the bed, unable to even turn to look behind her.
Oh, how she wished she could remember...
Hands slid around her from behind, hands covered in blood just like the walls, the floor, the furniture... She stifled a scream, finding she could move again, and tried to yank away, but the hands remained where they were. "Silly little butterfly," a voice purred in her ear. "Don't you like our artwork?"
Shizuka turned as best as she could to stare into mad brown eyes, set in a pale, grinning face. "B-Bakura-kun..."
"Don't worry, little butterfly," Yami no Bakura purred, trailing a bloodied hand through her hair. "We will make much more art like this..."
Shizuka raised her hands and stared at the blood on them. Her mind blanked out again as Yami no Bakura chucked and pulled her down to the bed.
She didn't want to remember anymore.
A/N 2: The movie mentioned is, of course, the original "Psycho", by Alfred Hitchcock, for those who don't know.