Hi. It's been four years. So sorry. Please enjoy.

ALG

Chapter 5

The stale stench of mildew was the first sensation to rouse the unconscious pharaoh, his hands shackled to chains suspended from the ceiling, pulling his arms above his head. His head hurt. His wrists were tender against the cold, rough metal. As he raised his head, the pharaoh winced from his stiff neck and spine. Slowly, hesitantly, Atem opened his heavy-lidded eyes.

Bleary-eyed, he surveyed his surroundings as best he could with such little clarity in his vision. The chamber in which he was bound was damp, and the moist air condensed on his skin and clothes, making him feel clammy all over. It was dark and still. No one was there for him to interrogate. He pulled at his restraints. The chains rattled loudly against each other, and the skin on his wrists stung.

"Hello?" Atem called out. His low, croaking voice echoed twice in the vacant space. No answer came. He wondered if he was left there to die.

"Hello."

The voice was a young woman's. A candle on the far side of the room was lit, and the silhouette of a curvy feminine figure loomed in the corner. Another candle, directly to the right of the first, was also lit. One at a time, down a line, over a dozen candles were ignited, and half the room was illuminated. By this time, Atem could see her.

She was fair-skinned and tall, perhaps taller than him. Her auburn hair fell to her shoulders. Her full lips wore a rosy red shade. The glitter on her golden dress shimmered against the candlelight. Her leaf green eyes were fixed on the captured pharaoh with a predatory gleam.

"Who are you?" Atem questioned.

The woman continued to stride over to him, swinging her hips from side to side as she approached him, the clacking of her heels echoing off the stone walls. She lit another candle, which sat on the table to his right.

"They call me 'Clover'," she answered, still watching him closely. "And you are the all powerful and great Pharaoh Atem of Egypt, commander of the three Egyptian Gods and perpetuator of light and harmony."

"How do you know so much about me?"

Clover smiled cunningly at Atem, and within seconds she was standing a foot away from him. Long fingernails glided smoothly over his cheek and down to his chin—softly enough to not injure the skin, but firmly enough to pose the threat of tearing his flesh at any wrong move. This woman loved and hungered for power; Atem could sense it practically oozing from her aura. Still, he did not move, allowing her to continue.

"I've known about you for… a long time," Clover replied. "I mean, my master has been set to destroy you for centuries." She rotated her hand so that the back of her fingers grazed softly over his face. "Too bad… if it were up to me, I'd keep you alive and just as handsome. Not my choice, unfortunately."

Not knowing exactly what this strange woman was capable of, Atem hesitated in saying anything, but the curiosity got the better of him. "May I ask who your master is?"

Clover's hands found their way to the lapels of his jacket, pulling them further apart to seductively caress and massage his shoulders. "Don't worry about him. You'll meet him soon enough. I'm your threat right now." And, in a flurry of motion, she tightly gripped his chin with her hand, eliciting a surprised choked gasp, and roughly kissed him on the lips.

Atem grunted and fought her, pulling at his chains again and trying to jerk his mouth out of the trap of her lips, but she only held him tighter until she was satisfied. As if she had just devoured a succulent ham, Clover withdrew and licked her lips with pleasure, watching with sick satisfaction as Atem recovered from her assault.

"Mmm… you are delicious," Clover swooned, as she used her thumb to wipe the lipstick smeared on the pharaoh's bruised lips. "Too bad my master hates you so much."

"There is something seriously wrong with you," Atem snarled.

"Oh don't worry, I'm well aware," Clover countered, giggling.

He glared at her, growing more impatient as moments passed. "Where are my friends? Tell me. Are they safe?"

Instead of answering, Clover met his gaze, and green clashed with violet. "Your eyes are incredible. It's like they have many stories to tell." Her fingers ran across his lips. "Mmm…I would've loved to be the lucky maiden who got to enjoy these every night."

"You're stalling. Where are my friends?"

She pondered for a moment. "Hmm… oh yes! Your friends. No, they're fine. Not sure where they are… they might have gotten away and are looking for you. Or perhaps my master has finally captured them."

In a moment of furious reaction, Atem resisted against his restraints once more, ignoring the stinging pain of the shackles slicing his wrists. A trickle of blood trailed down his arm and into his sleeve. Upon noticing this, Clover pulled down his sleeve and slid her tongue up his forearm and licked up the blood running down. Atem watched her in shock and disgust.

"You are a sick woman," he spat. Clover only smiled and pulled his sleeve back up.

"Master won't hurt your friends. Not until he gets what he wants, which is you. Once he's satisfied with you, he'll probably let them go. Probably. Maybe."

Atem's instinctual angry reaction caused him to, once again, pull against his chains, no doubt worsening his wrists, but he didn't care. To his surprise, Clover pulled a small object from the bustier on her dress—upon her revealing it between her fingers, Atem realized it was a key.

"Now now, stop hurting yourself. Let's get those hands cleaned up, we don't want you getting an infection, now."

Atem waited silently and patiently as Clover twisted the key in each of the lock holes of his cuffs. The cuffs clicked, and his hands were free. His arms were mildly sore from being held up so long, but he was far too distracted by the situation to pay much mind to it. He pulled his sleeves back to examine his wrists, and much like he predicted, they were cut, swollen, bleeding slightly and smeared with dirt.

"Now come with me to the washroom, we'll take care of those—"

Within seconds, Clover was tackled roughly to the floor, with Atem straddling her and pinning her wrists to the dirty concrete. Her green eyes stared back at him in surprise, but strangely she did not seem scared. Atem's eyes slowly burned into a crimson hue and bore a piercing stare straight at her.

"WHERE ARE THEY?"

The shocked stare quickly melted away to that of calm amusement. "Your friends? I told you, I don't know."

Atem growled in frustration.

"But what I do know, is that my master has taken a liking to one of them. The girl."

Atem's eyes widened in plain realization. "Téa…"

"Is that her name? How lovely. Yes, my master really likes Téa, a lot. I'm sure he has her by now." She grinned as she watched Atem grow more angered.

"You tell him to leave her alone!" he demanded. He violently slammed both her wrists to the floor, but wasn't sure how else to vent his rage. In truth, he couldn't hit a woman. In any case, Clover seemed completely unfazed by the attack.

"Oh come now," said Clover, as if they were jesting at each other in a friendly fencing duel, "Master doesn't hurt his prisoners. The girl is probably fine. I mean… probably. Maybe."

"You're not very convincing," said Atem. "Take me to my friends. Now."

"But I'm not done with you, yet, oh handsome Pharaoh of Egypt."

"Tell me where they are, or I'll—"

A sudden wave of drowsiness slammed Atem mid-sentence, causing his head to spin and eyelids to fall heavily against his will. His grip on Clover's wrists immediately slackened, and his body began to sway. "What—"

"That's right, my love. You're feeling nice and sleepy now, don't you?"

"I…" For the life of him, Atem couldn't find energy to speak. His strength was draining rapidly as seconds zipped by. His vision was quickly losing clarity, blurring first at the edges and then entire shapes. He could barely see an outline of Clover at this point. The light was fading in his eyes. Finally, after a minute or so of fighting whatever plagued him, Atem let gravity pull him forward, into Clover's arms, and all went black.

Clover rested Atem's head against her chest, and combed through his hair with her fingernails. She began to sing softly to the sleeping pharaoh. "There once was a young pharaoh and a fair maiden of the North…"

A sharp gasp and a layer of cold sweat—and Yugi was startled awake in bed. He calmed down his frantic breathing and rubbed his eyes. "What on earth…?"

Yugi sat up in bed, groaning from being jerked awake. A dull headache plagued his temples.

"That couldn't have been just a dream. I was there… I was… Atem. I felt his pain… I felt everything… but what does it mean?" He looked on his bedside table, at the prisoner card holding the soul of his grandfather. He turn on his bedside lamp and took the card in his hand, examining it closer. "Could that have anything to do with this?"

Yugi glanced out the window, into the endless sky of stars. "We'll find you, Grandpa…"

Just as he turned the lamp off, a hand from nowhere seized Yugi's mouth and silenced his surprised screams. Yugi struggled for his life, but the figure looming in the shadows was easily at a physical advantage. Yugi's body glowed white for a moment, and he was fast asleep within seconds.

—TO BE CONTINUED—