Author Note: This drabble happened so randomly, omr. I wasn't expecting it to be this long? I mean, yeah... I like it, though.

Pairing: Bronzeshipping [Yami Marik x Marik Ishtar].

Warning: Violence, blood is mentioned.

Enjoy this dumb thing!

December 23rd.

It was the day his mother gave birth to him, but it was also the day she died. Truth be told, Marik hardly cared that his mother had passed away while giving birth to him — he didn't know who she was. Just another fragment of his terrible childhood, just another picture.

Shaking his head, the Egyptian slapped his palms upon his head as he screwed his eyes shut tight.

Biting at his bottom lip hard until it was enough to draw small droplets of blood; Marik let out an irritable groan as he continued to press his hands against his head harder and harder. Unwanted images and noises were plaguing his thinking just like they always had every other year on this same day. Truly, Marik hated this day. He loathed it whenever he realized it was near. The day of his birth, the day his mother died, and this also marked the day in which his life began spiraling into the depths of pure hell.

The day of his initiation and the day his darkness was born.

"Stop.. please." he muttered to himself as he pleaded for the images to cease — but alas, that only made them worse. Letting out a whimper and a sudden gasp, the teenager flinched and pulled his knees closer to his chest; form beginning to tremble in pent up and unforgotten anger.

The strong, gut-wrenching stench of his life rivers flooded his nose causing him to hold his breath. The taste of metallic copper began washing over his taste buds as he ran his tongue along his teeth, gums and the insides of his cheeks. Along with the taste of blood came the disgusting taste of the vapid rope-clad gag that had been shoved into his mouth for the purpose of muffling his screams and sobs.

The feel of tears welling up in his eyes caused his vision to blur and he only began screaming harder, louder as they leaked from his eyes. The pain he felt was excruciating, enough to the point where he began seeing black dots; a clear sign he was about to black out due to the large amount of blood he had lost.

"Make it stop, please..! Father..!" he cried despite the fact his words became muffled.

Sobbing as the heated dagger only continued to rip through his flesh, causing more blood to spill and pool amongst the table and around his shaken up form, Marik once again tried to tug at the old, rusty cuffs that held him down — that kept him locked up during this torture. Clenching his fists tightly, Marik let out one final scream until he fainted, body instantly becoming limp amongst the table in which he was bound to.

The moment he woke, he was again greeted with the concrete table. Finding that he was no longer chained down, the Egyptian sat up and winced loudly; pain frequently stabbing him in the back as he moved about; shuffling to get off the uncomfortable block of cement.

Glancing around the room despite how blurry his vision remained, Marik collapsed to the ground when he was almost near the room which led into the darkness of the underground corridor. His form then began shaking even more as he sat up, seating himself upon his knees as he stared at the bandages wrapped along the trunk of his body. Keeping his head lowered, the Egyptian peered at his hands, watching lifelessly as they trembled wildly.

"Why..?"

Bringing his palms to his face, he began sobbing. Hot tears decorating his eyes as they trailed down his cheek, bottom lip quivering. An array of negative emotions overcame him then. Rage, agony, fear and hatred. Biting at his bottom lip, Marik let out a loud, frustrated cry. His throat tightened which caused the Egyptian to lean forward, continuing to sob in the room dyed in dim light from the near puddle-like candles.

"It's his fault…!" he growled out angrily.

The next thing Marik knew; his broken soul was drowned and carved by the darkness that began growing, living within his heart — ruling over his thinking.

Snapping his eyes open, Marik breathed heavily as he glanced around his bedroom, hands gripping and tugging at the sheets which covered his mattress. Beads of sweat decorated his forehead and trailed down his temples; tears located within the corners of his eyes. His amethyst optics were glossy and filled with fear. Uncurling his toes, Marik pressed his head against the coolness of the wall as he tried to calm himself.

Just an episode of past triggers.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, the teenager stared at the ceiling until a sudden rush of cold air blew throughout the room, causing his form to shake and his attention to perk. Looking around the room in a panic, amethyst optics fell upon a familiar, heart-stopping silhouette.

"Wh..!"

Staring at the demon of his soul, Marik felt the tears begin to leak from his eyes, and in an instant, he found himself desperately clinging onto the other blonde, nails digging into his equally bronzed skin. Burying his face into the dark entity's chest, the Egyptian cried loudly as he continued to hold onto the other; fear of being left alone suddenly washing over him.

"Please… make it stop!"

When a bronzed hand was placed upon his head, Marik had finally come to the realization that no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he could forget and forgive what happened to him as a child — what scarred him, he'd always need this part of himself. He may have been banished into the darkness of the shadows long ago, but he still lingered within his mind and kept the memories at bay.

For that, Marik was grateful.

Raising to his feet and placing his hands upon the entity's cheeks, Marik pressed his forehead against the other blonde's and let out a small whimper. The demon may not be the most loving, nor the kindest. But, if the Egyptian finally came to the realization of one thing, then he truly did…

Need him.