Me: This is my first YuGiOh 5D's fanfic. If I did something wrong, so sorry. I am still watching said anime. :P Also, this is a mild AU. If this seems quick or short, so sorry. :P

K.C.: Enjoy.

The rain started pounding on his wet brown locks. He hissed every time the water hit his cuts and bruises. He was so close, he could taste it. He kept on running, thinking he'll never stop. But this thought was short lived as he felt his knees buckle.

The contact with the ground was cold and wet, he didn't feel any pain. He just laid there, too afraid to move. His ears strain as the sounds of sirens whirred through the air.

His world became black as the said sounds came closer.

He felt something cold run through his skin once more. His sharp, blue eyes snapped open.

"Case #8807, please rise to the honorable judge."

His eyes snapped around, trying to study the room he is in, but it was too dark. The only light there was, was the one above, pointing directly at him and another pointing to a man sitting in a podium of some sort.

He gets a light bop in the back of his head. "Stand up, I said."

He did so, but his legs were shaking. The man that hit his head gave the judge a file full of documents of some sort. The judge opened them and said, "You son, are in a heap of trouble."

What was he in trouble for?

"You are being charged for attempt of murder, robbery-"

What the- what's with these charges? He didn't do any of these things.

... did he?

"-what do you have to say for yourself?"

He got out of his little world and said, "Please sir... I-I didn't do any of those things!"

"The man who had sent the testimony has evidence you had tried to kill him. And we have evidence on the stolen items." Another man went up to the boy and threw a plastic bag full of Duel Monster cards onto his lap.

He stared at them for what seemed like hours, he snapped his head up to the judge, "What are you talking about!? These are the cards my mother and father gave me!"

"Sure." the man picked the cards back up and left. The boy felt sadness and panic wash over him. "These cards are meant to be in the vault," the judge said with an annoyed tone, "You have no right for carrying such old and rare cards."

"You don't get it! My pare-"

"You are now sentenced for four months in the facility."

Two men in Sector Security outfits grabs his arms and start dragging him away. "Hey! Let me go!" He snapped.

He was getting dragged to a room and was strapped into a chair. A helmet of some sort was placed on his head and he felt a small, stinging sensation under his right eye.

"We planted your tracker, now it's time for the Facility, brat."

What seemed like hours, but mere minutes, he was finally in a cell. He was all alone. He wasn't prohibited to have any cellmates. He didn't know why. Maybe the Warden worried that he would kill them?

He leans against the wall, what did he ever do to deserve this? All he was doing was trying to get away from Him...

He hears his cell door open. "All right, you pansy, you are taking a mild recess." He got up to his feet and shuffled out of his tiny cell.

He was led to a large court yard that had high fences, tipped in barbwire. There were burly, muscular men talking or just standing. They all had the evil yellow trackers on their faces in different shapes and positions.

He brushed his own tracker with his fingers, lightly. It was like a small tick. Maybe it just means how long his sentence it? He was shoved forward and lost his balance.

He found himself in the dirt.

The Sector Security officer laughed and left behind a now closed door.

He growled in frustration and pushed himself off the ground. The prisoners glanced at him and started glaring.

He felt a shiver go down his spine.

This was going to be a long four months, he thought to himself. He started walking shyly around the prisoners, they didn't seem too happy. He tried to make his mind wander away from the mean crowd.

What did they do his parents decks? Did they put them in that vault? Why did they take his clothes? He could've sworn when someone is in the Facility you still wore your own clothes. But no.

He had to wear bright orange shirt and pants. All the others wore the exact same.

His coat...

He bumps into a large man and felt a hand on the collar of his shirt. He was lifted a few inches into the air. "You better watch it, punk." The large man growled at him.

He swallowed his heart back down. "U-um... I-I'm s-sorry-"

"Sorry ain't gonna cut it, punk!" He felt a strong force on his cheek and he was on the ground again. He hears a bunch of laughter. "What a wimp!"

"He's so pathetic!"

Pathetic? I... I'm strong... right?

A foot drills into his stomach. He yelps in pain.

"Yeah, a pathetic little mouse."

After a hard kick in the gut, the group finally leave the boy alone.

For now.

When lunch time comes around, he finds himself standing in the middle of a humongous cafeteria. There was nowhere to sit whatsoever. Every seat was full and the seats that were empty, a scary criminal sat next to it.

He sighed in defeat and starts walking to his room.

"Hey!"

He freezes.

"Little mousy, get over here!"

He turns very slowly and spots the buff man and his gang. The buff man had an evil smile across his face. He gulped in fear.

The buff man got up and walked over to him and slapped his tray of food out of his hands. The boy stared at the dropped food and finds the wind knocked out of him.

The laughter erupts the cafeteria. "Little mousy still doesn't know how to fight?" The buff man taunts.

The boy glares at him. "I-I can fight..."

The buff man tilts a brow, "Oh?" He kicks the kid in the gut again, getting an Oomph out of him, "Prove it!"

He grimaced as he staggered back up, his gut felt like it was putty.

He carefully looked down at his hands as they balled up into fists. His hands were shaking, but his mother would never allow such fear.

As if he lost control of himself, he found himself punching the buff man. He stopped and the buff man grabbed his arms. "Oh you're in deep SHIT!"

The buff man wrapped his hand around the kid's skinny throat. He yelped as he felt teeth dig into his flesh. The teeth won't let go.

He forcefully yanked his hand out and felt skin being teared off. Blood pools to the ground from the buff man's hand. The boy spit some blood and skin out. The copper taste invaded his tongue. It was disgusting!

Before he could wipe the red goop off his lips, he felt a shock in his back. He fell to the ground and his hands started twitching.

A giant man, bigger than the burly man, towered over the boy. His skin was dark and his expression said "You are in deep shit" all over.

He forcefully picked the boy up and shoved him towards two Sector Security guards. They grab his arms and the boy started thrashing around.

The large man smirked, "Put this kid in a jacket."

The two guards seemed shocked, "But, Warden Armstrong-"

"Don't mess with my authority," He snapped, "Put him in the jacket!"

He turned his back on the boy and before he walked away, he turned his head to the two cops, "And muzzle him."

The warden leaves. The two cops drag the boy to the same room were he got his tracker and was strapped in the chair again. The laser sliced through his skin around his eye, making the permanent mark again.

This time, it hurt even more than the last time. The copper in his mouth, thicken as he bit his lip.

By the time the new mark was finished, he was dragged to a far corner of the Facility and was thrown into another room. He felt big, meaty hands grab his arms. A leather rope-like object was put over his mouth and his voice became muffled.

His arms were tied around him in an odd fashion and was forced to the ground. The warden laughed, "No more biting for this little mousy!"

He slammed the cell door shut, making the room shake a little.

Me: I hope you like it.

K.C.: Don't flame or complain

?: read and review!