A/N: Most of you already guessed what's going to happen in this chapter. Kuru Eruna massacre time!

Warnings: Um... character death(s)?

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Heartless: The Life of Thief King Bakura

Chapter Four: When the World Ended

The night seemed just as ordinary as any other. After punishing his son for his disobedience, Bakari had left the small home in favor of the tavern once again. Bakura had slowly but surely made his way to the water-filled basin which had yet to be emptied out and removed, soaking in the dirtied water until he could no longer feel the sting of the lacerations on his back.

Afterwards his mother wrapped cloth bandages around his torso to keep the wounds from becoming infected and to also prevent bleeding. He could tell she felt horrible for what Bakari had done by the way she also dressed him in a linen robe so he would stay warm during the night. Bakura had been hesitant to put it on – not wishing to accept an act of kindness that only stemmed forth from pity – but eventually the chill of the night air got to him and he reluctantly slid it over his head, hugging the extra material tightly to himself.

Going to sleep proved to be a difficult task, seeing as every time he tried to move the wounds would painfully make their presence known. Whimpering rather pathetically every so often, Bakura settled with lying on his stomach and pillowing his head in his arms. As long as remained perfectly still the position was bearable.

At some point Rebekah seated herself next to her son and began to run her fingers through his cropped, remarkably white hair. Gray eyes turned to her in silent question, receiving only an empathetic look in response.

He pushed her away with a wide sweep of his hand, glaring fiercely over his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!"

Rebekah's eyes widened at the outburst. Bakura had never been one to raise his voice, even when he was upset at not getting his way; it was odd to hear him yelling.

"Bakura," she said gently, reaching out to him again only to have the same hand slap her aside. Now becoming frustrated as well, she smacked the back of his head. "I never raised you to be disrespectful. If you raise your hand to me again, I'll –"

Bakura glared, seeming furious now, and interrupted her with a suggestion of what she would most likely do.

"You'll tell father so he can whip me again?"

His tone sounded dead, for lack of a better word; he had never spoken in such a voice before, and the eerie calmness of it somewhat frightened Rebekah, who took a retreating step away from her son.

"You know I would never want harm to befall you. You are my son, and I love you and I want to protect you from all that is evil in the world. But you horribly disobeyed your father's rules, and you know the punishment for that."

"Mother, I want to be free! Why should I be punished for wanting to go outside like a normal child?"

"Because you are not a normal child!"

Rebekah immediately regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips. Bakura's dull gray eyes filled with tears and he bowed his head, trying to hide them from his mother. His lips began to tremble as he choked on a sob.

"...Bakura... You're so special."

Rebekah tried to make up for what she said, although she knew her words were most likely falling on deaf ears. "You are too different for this world, too beautiful. But most people would not understand your beauty – they do not wish to see it. But I see it. Bakura, you are so beautiful... so special to me. I love you so much."

Special. He didn't want to be that. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to be just like the other children of Kuru Eruna, and he wanted to grow up to be a normal man, and live a normal life, and marry a normal woman. He didn't want to be confined any longer. He wanted freedom.

He hated being special. And if this was beauty, he hated that too.

The room was silent for several minutes. Figuring Bakura wouldn't say anything, Rebekah chose to leave her son to his own thoughts.

Bakura laid his head back down in his arms and cried until he fell asleep.

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"Neb Akunadin!"

A young man dressed in royal garb and armor, mounted upon a white horse, stared expectantly over at one of the soldiers approaching him on foot. The soldier bowed once at a close enough distance and presented to High Priest of Egypt a scroll of papyrus. The dark cobalt eyes of Akunadin skimmed the paper, easily reading the message written down in Hieroglyphics.

"Only seventy?" he asked the soldier, not looking up from the scroll.

The soldier nodded his head. "Yes, there were seventy. But apparently there was a lady in labor, Neb, so she could not be present for the counting," he explained. "With her and the child it makes seventy-two."

Akunadin frowned and rolled the scroll up once again. "Not nearly enough," he said to himself. Shaking his head he focused on the soldier. "You are dismissed. Go back to the camp and away my orders for attack."

Bowing, the soldier compliantly headed back in the direction of camp.

The High Priest sighed, placing a hand to his forehead. Seventy-two... not nearly enough to satisfy the minimum written in the Sennen Book of Magic. The sacrifice needed to be large... ninety-nine, it said. Ninety-nine, and they only had seventy-two!

"High Priest Akunadin," one of his companions spoke up, approaching Akunadin who raised an eyebrow and looked at his fellow priest inquisitively. He spoke in a hushed whisper as he gave his idea. "Might I suggest we offer the soldiers as a sacrifice as well? There is a possibility that the charm placed on them will wear off, and if they ever tell what really happened to the citizens of Kuru Eruna, then the penalty for lying to the Pharaoh will be a high one. To ensure this secret is never discovered, I think it would be best if we got rid of the soldiers and used them as the remainder of our sacrifice."

Akunadin nodded his head in understanding, finding it smart for them to cover all of their bases in such a fashion. "How many men do we have?"

"Excluding those who have already perished along the way, we have exactly twenty-seven."

"Perfect."

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Bakura tossed and turned in his sleep, eyes clenching together tightly as he fruitlessly attempted to push away the images his subconscious was showing him. He whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself to protect him from the dream.

Fire... All around him, hot, bright fire. Bakura was trapped, fire on every side of him, preventing his escape. In front of him stood the small, square window which he spent almost every hour of the day viewing the outside world from. The house across was his was aflame as well, and its inhabitants were running from it, screaming.

When it seemed as though they were safe, a new danger appeared: arrows. Hundreds and hundreds of arrows fell from the sky, skewering the villagers. Woman cried, men screamed like children. Soldiers appeared with swords, stabbing those whom the arrows missed.

Through the window, Bakura saw his mother running, leading several young children along with her. One of the children Bakura recognized in an instant as Téana. They ran past the window but somehow did not escape his line of vision. A guard was perusing them, unnoticed by all except for Bakura.

No!

Bakura cried out, screaming for his mother and Téana to run quickly, but no noise escaped his lips. He tried to move forward, but the flames grew higher around him, making it impossible for him to get to his family.

Gray-blue eyes shut tightly as the knife went through the first of the children.

No! This couldn't be happening! Not to his village... Not to his dear mother... Not to Téana.

"Bakura! Bakura, wake up!"

The child awoke with a start, his light eyes wide and filled with fear. Once the sleepy haze cleared from his vision, he focused upon the form of his mother. She was standing over him looking anxious.

"Mother?" he called quietly. She reached out and touched the top of his head and he began to cry, bringing his small arms forward and clutching her skirts. "Mother I had a horrible dream! ... I thought you were going to die!"

A flash of dread crossed Rebekah's dark eyes. Gently she pried Bakura's arms from her skirt and helped him to a sitting position. He winced several times, the movement greatly disturbing the still-fresh injuries on his back.

"Hush now," she said softly, drying his tears with her thumb. "You must be very quiet."

Bakura sniffed. "W-why?" he asked. "Is... is Father still angry with me?"

Rebekah smiled sadly, her head moving from side to side in response to the question. "No, Bakura, your father is not angry with you. Your father," she stopped, gaze dropping to the floor.

She didn't quite know how to explain the circumstances to her son. Bakura, still a young child, would surely be unable to comprehend the truth. And even if he did understand... she couldn't bear to let her only child be tormented by the truth.

The woman brought her free hand to her cheek, still feeling the warmth of her husband's lips kissing her for the very last time. She knew she wouldn't be seeing him again. When he left to join the other men, she knew he would never return. He was giving his life in a vain attempt to guard the village; none of those men would survive the might of the Pharaoh's trained soldiers.

Taking Bakura's hand in both of her own, she gave the much smaller appendage a gentle squeeze – the action both reassurance for herself and for Bakura.

"Your father is very sorry for what he did earlier... He knows he hurt you very much, and so to make up for it, he has allowed me to take you outside."

The young boy's eyes widened, their icy depths shining with hope. "R-really, Mother?" he asked, disbelief evident in his small voice. "Really?"

Rebekah nodded her head. "Yes. We will go outside to play a game."

Bakura loved games, Rebekah knew. The boy radiated with happiness almost blasphemous, given the dire situation at hand.

"A game? What kind of game?" he wondered, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

"It's... it's called 'Run and Hide'."

Bakura seemed interested, and so she continued with the lie, placing a hand around her son's shoulders and steering him out of the room. "All the villagers are playing. What we have to do is run away from all the men dressed as Pharaoh's soldiers. Run away and hide so they never find us. And if they don't find you, you win!"

She tried her best to make it sound like a game, so Bakura wouldn't be afraid, but the young boy seemed unsure as his mother led him to the back of their mud-brick home. A scream sounded from somewhere in the village – the first of many, Rebekah was sure.

"I... I don't know if I want to play the game, Mother," Bakura said quietly. "It sounds dangerous..."

A lump formed in Rebekah's throat, which she swallowed down in a determination not to cry in front of her only remaining family. "Nay, child... It's not dangerous at all. Some people scream when they get caught... They're... they're just having fun."

She felt sick, mocking the deaths of her villagers by calling this slaughter a game; but if it saved Bakura the torment, she had no choice but to keep up with this little story. She placed a finger over her son's chapped lips and he blinked twice, staring down at her dark finger, making his eyes cross.

"The key to the game is to be quiet, and to make sure no one sees you. Understand? You have to be very, very quiet so they never find you."

"That's all? That's all, and I win? What do I win, Mother? Is there a prize?"

Rebekah stopped as she reached the back entrance of the home. She kneeled down in front of Bakura and embraced him tenderly, knowing this may be one of the last times she had the chance to hold her baby in her arms.

"Mother?" Bakura whispered, bending slightly to the side to get a look at his parent's face. Rebekah lifted her head to meet his gaze and he noticed the tears welling in the corners of her dark eyes. "Mother, don't cry. I promise I'll be strong, and quiet. They'll never catch us. We'll win the game for sure!"

She was silent for several moments before she gave a slight nod. "Yes... of course we will." Leaning forward and placing a kiss on Bakura's forehead, Rebekah enveloped him in one last hug before standing back up to her full height and taking one of his hands. "Come now... We must move silently. I'll bring you to the perfect hiding place."

Taking a deep breath and praying to whatever deity would listen to the humble prayers of a desperate mother, Rebekah fled from the home, nearly dragging her son along with her through the deserted and burning dirt streets of Kuru Eruna.

They moved as noiselessly as possible, Bakura clumsily tripping over his own feet every once and a while as he tried to keep up with his mother's brisk strides. They reached the heart of the city in a short amount of time, and Rebekah led them to the pile of debris she knew was once the temple where she and her fellow villagers gathered to pay homage to the Gods and Goddesses.

Bakura whipped his head in all directions, gray-blue eyes filled with horror as he took in the destruction around him. He stumbled over a broken statue of Nut and for a moment lost grip of his mother's hand. A small cry escaped him as he reached out to her again, grasping a fistful of her skirt.

Rebekah stopped moving as they came to the center of the temple, where a set of stone stairs leading downwards was located. Checking in both directions, she began to move hesitantly down the stairs again, keeping one arm wrapped protectively around Bakura's shoulder.

As they ascended the steps, Bakura could pick up the sound of voices in the distance. Were there already people hiding down there? Or were the seekers waiting for them, waiting to catch them before they had an opportunity to hide away.

Rebekah froze continued to lead them down the stairs, and several torches came into view to light their paths as the darkness around them increased. Reaching the bottom of the stairwell, she steered her son away from the voices, and let go of him once they were concealed by a wall. She kneeled before Bakura again, staring at him pleadingly.

"Whatever you do, do not move from this spot. Understand?" she asked.

Bakura, who was now crying, shook his head. "Mother I don't like this game at all... I don't like it at all."

"Bakura, did you hear me?"

He shook his head, strands of moon-kissed tossing from side to side along with the motion. "No... I don't want to play anymore, Mother. I want to go home!"

"You cannot go home. You must stay here until the game is over."

Bakura continued to cry, and Rebekah was at a loss as to what to do to console him. Sighing inaudibly, she embraced him once more, closing her eyes and pressing her lips o his cheek. She kissed him three times.

"I meri ek."

By this point Bakura could no longer be fooled into believing this was merely a game. Really, he had known all along, he just didn't want to believe it. And although he wasn't exactly sure what really was happening, he knew it involved death. Death and destruction. And fire, like his dream showed him.

Bakura didn't know how long they remained that way, with he standing and holding his kneeling mother, crying against her as she cried against him. But a scream brought them both to the present. A scream most definitely male and belonging to a child.

The white-haired boy let go of his mother and ran to the ledge of the wall, heart jumping up into his throat as he pressed himself against the ledge and peered around to get a look at what was going on. A gasped escaped his parted lips as he saw a young boy with hair the color of sand being dragged forward by two men dressed in the royal garb of the Pharaoh's soldiers. He was thrashing about in their arms in a vain attempt to break free, screaming for help.

"Let me go!" Jouno sobbed. "Mother! Father! Help me!"

One of the soldiers laughed as both men stopped walking.

"Fear not, little boy. You will join your worthless parents shortly."

Bakura held back a scream as they snapped Jouno's neck and tossed his body into a large pot he hadn't noticed before. The scent of burning flesh wafted through the air, reaching his nostrils soon enough, and he fought the urge to retch. He moved back around the wall, sinking down to the floor into a miserable heap.

The men laughed and walked away.

Rebekah crawled over to Bakura, taking one of his hands. "I didn't know they would be down here as well... I will have to find another place for us to hide. You will stay here. Understand?"

Bakura nodded his head, hardly even registering the moment she hugged and kissed him for the last time.

More shrieks penetrated the hot air of the underground temple, this time shrill and feminine. Bakura didn't want to look, but he found himself peering out from behind his hiding spot regardless of the fear and sickness churning inside. A pack of women and children were led into the room by men dressed in rich robes of black linen and gold-plated headdresses that suggested they were of the Royal Court.

Bakura gripped the stone hedge tightly as he noticed his mother among the group of women. Tears stung his eyes, flowing uncontrollably down his cheeks, and his mouth opened and closed several times like a suffocating fish out of water.

He couldn't watch as they killed her and dumped her into the same pot they carelessly tossed their other victims. A sob escaped him, but he caught it with his hand to muffle the noise.

"What do you have here, little girl? A doll! Do you think it will protect you?"

A squeal of pain as an arm was twisted out of place and a wooden carving dropped to the wet stone floor.

Gray-blue eyes snapped open in recognition. He knew that cry... it plagued his dreams earlier in the night.

Téana.

She was on the ground, her now-lifeless body lying next to the carving Bakura recalled giving her only one day prior. Diaboundo... The bottom snake-half of the body had been broken off, and now laid several inches away from the man's sculpted torso.

'She kept it with her... and I couldn't protect her.'

'Diaboundo... Téana... Mother...'

'My friend... My Family...'

Bakura didn't know what compelled him to do so, but he moved out from the barrier that concealed and protected him from harm. He moved forward slowly, closer to the soldiers and members of the Court, and closer to the death that seemed imminent to all citizens of Kuru Eruna.

"What's this?" one of the soldiers sneered. "One escaped?"

"I thought we had all ninety-nine sacrifices. That girl was the last of the village. Where did this one come from, I wonder?" a black-robed man asked.

"Does it matter? Throw him in the pot! The more sacrifices, the more pleased the Pharaoh will be!"

Sacrifices?

The Pharaoh...? The Pharaoh did this? Ordered the people of Kuru Eruna to be killed?

Bakura stopped as he stood where Téana's body had been. He kneeled down on the floor and picked up the pieces of Diaboundo, cradling them to his chest as Téana had done when she received the carving as a gift. The tears stopped dripping, and he sat deathly still, eyes unblinking and emotionless.

"What is wrong with this child? Why does he not cry and scream like the others?"

"Look at his hair! So white – like death!"

Bakura didn't move a muscle, only stared blankly at the men who had so thoughtlessly murdered his village. A deep hate coursed through his veins, and he felt the desire to see each and every one of them dead, as he had wished to see his father dead after the whipping occurred.

Suddenly a voice spoke to him, though where it came from was a mystery.

Do you seek revenge, my Child?

Apparently he was the only hearer of the words, for none of the other men in the room even raised a brow at the disembodied voice.

Ice-colored eyes blinked. '...Revenge?'

These men have committed an injustice... Killed your loved ones and villagers. You long for their deaths. Do you wish for me to destroy them for you?

'Can you do that?'

The deep voice chuckled, and the rumbling noise brought comfort to the distraught young boy. My Child, I am the Darkness... I can do anything.

'Who are you?' he wondered, unable to put a face to the speaker. He looked down to the figurine in his arms and the possibility of the carving being the source of the voice fleetingly crossed his mind. '...D-Diaboundo?'

Bakura thought about it for a moment, his eyes darting over to the guards who were slowly advancing towards him, smirking. An order had been given by one of the black-robed men to throw the child into the pot with the others: "Even if the Items are complete, there's always room for one hundred!"

A hearty chuckle echoed through his mind. Diaboundo? Is that what you wish for, for your Diaboundo to protect you? I can grant you your wish, child. I can do anything you ask me to...

The white-haired boy took a retreating step backwards as the soldiers came closer. 'Kill them... Kill them for hurting my family.' Bakura looked down at the statuette in his hands, smiling at it with paternal affection. 'Diaboundo... protect me from them... Don't let them live.'

Again that chuckle, and a flash of bright light. The soldiers and black-robed men all gasped, stopping their pursuit as around the boy appeared a creature several times larger than that of a grown man. It had the head and torso of a man, but the lower body of a serpent. Large wings sprouted from its back, and the snake coiled around the child protectively, opening its jaws and hissing venomously at all those who had drawn too near.

"W-what is that thing?"

"I've never seen a creature like that in my life!"

"It is a demon!"

"Grab the Items and run!" one of the black-robed men screeched.

There was a flash of light – an attack from Diaboundo, and only few were able to escape with their lives and the 'Items'.

Bakura was unconscious before he hit the floor.

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Translations:
I finally found an English to Egyptian translator online, so I was able to insert Egyptian words now instead of using Arabic. Hopefully, this source gave me the the correct terms!

Neb: Ancient Egyptian for "Lord" or "Master".

I meri ek: By just looking up the words I, Love, and You, I created this sentance. (I I, meri love, ek you; masculine singular.) I can't be certain it's accurate, but I tried my best, and hopefully I came close.

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A/N: All right. So, the massacre is finally over. It's a bit different than the one that took place in the manga and anime - though, they didn't really show more than two seconds of it in both, so we never know.. perhaps something like this DID actually happen. Anyways, I hope it was okay. The chapter was a little difficult for me to write, since I'm not used to writing massacres or anything like that. Thanks for reading! Next chapter... Malik should arrive. I can't tell you when I'll have it out, 'cause with Hurricane Ernesto coming this week, there's the chance we might lose power for a few days. But I'll try to at least write the chapter out.

...Anyways, please review!