Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Change of Heart ❯ Time For Sand ( Chapter 2 )

Title: Change of Heart

Author: Britani Gael

Wow. I didn't expect people to actually LIKE this story. It was just going to be a side project for when I had writer's block on my others, but now it has become my favorite thing to work on. Here goes.

* * *

He really should have seen the next thing coming.

Sink hole.

Come on, whenever anyone decided to list "What else could possibly go wrong ...", a giant sink hole opening up was always on it, right?

Well, to give him credit, it wasn't exactly an ordinary sinkhole, if there was such a thing. Dry sand was swirling around his waist, mixed with little threads of the black stuff he had seen when the tree had sunk. It swirled around like it was going down a bathroom drain, taking everything with it.

And Bakura certainly wasn't making things any better. He had started thrashing around like a lunatic again, even and his Yami struggled to hold him above the sand. It was a struggle Yami was seriously considering giving up. If the kid was so eager to die, he wasn't going to stand in his way.

Bakura gave a final shudder, and fell limp in Yami's arms.

Yami Bakura raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but there was no time to ponder that. The sand continued shifting around them, drawing them in.

It didn't really matter. If this didn't kill the both of them, something else down the line certainly would. Reality was seriously stacked against them in this section of the universe, it was only a matter of time.

"No! Stop..." Bakura jerked again.

Startled, Yami dropped him. Bakura sank under the sand.

Yami reached under, in a halfhearted attempt to try to find him, failing that, he made a desperate grab for solid land.

No such luck.

Well, it was worth a try.

As the sand started to flow over his head, Yami Bakura was consoled by the fact that the slow, painful death by suffocation would mean an end to this insane nightmare. His vision went black. Something beneath him gave out, and he started to fall.

No such luck.

* * *

Bakura found himself floating aimlessly.

The colors had long since ceased, slowly draining from his sight until all he was left with were vague geometric shapes in black and white. Even that was fading, going from crisp contrasts to fuzzy shades of gray.

He tried to touch things as they floated by, but, no body, no go.

He was so tired...

But now he was falling.

He couldn't see anything at all, and a pain in his head was growing. His energy was being sapped right out of him, going to who knows where.

He couldn't breathe.

He struggled for air, and he felt like his soul was being ripped out. He tried to call out, tried to beg for help, but he couldn't speak.

No such luck.

Just as he was about to black out, he hit the ground. The wind would have been knocked out of him, if he had had any in his lungs. Then he realized that he had a body again. It was of little concern to him right then, he was content to just gasp for air.

He was lying on a stone floor, it looked gray, but then he realized he was still seeing things without color, like an old black and white movie.

He tried to stand up. Maybe not the best of ideas. His knees buckled the minute he had got on his feet, and he fell on his knees, pain shooting up his legs. His hands were shaking.

He looked around. It was a plain room, no decorations, just four stone walls and an opening that looked like an exit. And there was a woman there.

He could tell it was a woman, but after that, there wasn't any telling anything about her. Whenever he tried to focus on a feature, like the color of her hair, she would shimmer and seem to ... change. He couldn't describe it.

Her smile stayed the same, though. Cold, malicious, the white of her teeth shining out against the dark gray he saw as her skin.

On her chest, glimmering, was the Millenium Ring.

* * *

Yami Bakura landed on another pile of sand. Gods, he was sick of sand. It was a pain in the ass, grainy as hell, and it got everywhere.

This sand was different, though. He reached out to sift it between his fingers. It was finer, and darker too, almost like dirt. Much different from the sand ... above?

He looked up. Instead of the gaping hole he was half expecting, there was a simple, wooden roof. What the hell?

He surveyed the area. Everything seemed fine to a certain point, but, after that, his vision was completely distorted. He couldn't make out any features at all beyond this invisible wall. It was then that he realized that Bakura was gone. He was alone.

Yami stood up, and took a few steps towards it. He tapped on it.

Glass. It was made of glass.

The wall was curved all around, and started to taper near the bottom. Hmmmm ...

Yami Bakura had a strange trait for someone trapped in a Millenium item for the past few thousand years. He hated puzzles. He hated games.

He just liked to win.

He wasn't sure if he could win this one. Not in the long run. But he could figure out where he was well enough. He was trapped inside a giant hourglass. It sounded strange to hear himself think it, but, he had to admit, the tree had been weirder.

He rubbed his temples. Damn, he was getting another headache.

The ground beneath him collapsed. The sand in the whole enclosure was sliding down towards the center, a mini version of the sinkhole that had trapped him before. And he was sliding down with it. He tried to grab hold of something, but all his hands could find was slippery glass.

He fell through, and landed in a heap on the cone of sand at the bottom. Sand continued trickling down, landing in his hair and on his face.

He sat up, spitting, trying to wipe the sand off. Now he had it in his mouth. He stood up once more. He was now in the bottom of the hourglass, and there didn't seem to be anywhere else to go, so he shouldn't have anymore unfortunate run-ins with gravity.

Yami started pacing. He wished Bakura was still there, or, failing him, at least someone. He was building up a lot of excess anger, and he was feeling the need to take it out on someone. Though even he might feel guilty beating up somebody who wasn't even conscious.

He decided to take it out on the next best thing. He kicked the glass wall.

Maybe not the best of ideas.

A crack ran right up the glass, spreading in tiny lines that looked like spider webs. Yami took a step back, holding an arm up in front of his face, waiting for the whole thing to come crashing down.

It didn't. He peered around his hand, and saw the glass, cracked and caving slightly, but still holding. He reached out his hand and poked it. It gave a little under his touch, but still held up. Then he got an idea. And he hated it.

He did need to get out of this, though.

Shit, this was going to hurt.

Yami took a deep breath, and covered his face with his arm again. He took a slow step forward, already cringing with anticipated pain.

He threw himself into the crumbling wall, and heard the sounds of it collapsing around him. Shards of glass flew at him, cutting his arms and back. He hit the ground hard, and covered his head as glass continued to rain on him.

When it stopped, he stood up. He looked up at what was left of the hourglass. And frowned.

It hadn't collapsed, not all the way. About half of the glass had shattered, the rest stood, and was slowly tilting, working its way to the ground. Really slowly, defying the laws of everything he knew about gravity. At that rate, it would take at least two minutes for the thing to hit the ground.

He needed to get out of here. Fast.

He stood up. His sweater was nearly shredded in several places, tiny cuts that covered his hands were trickling blood. His face felt wet, he must be bleeding there, too. The ground was completely covered in glass, good thing he had shoes.

The room was made of a sandy colored stone, all of it, floor, walls and ceiling. A door was chiseled into one wall. Yami hesitated to enter it, afraid it might shut behind him or something. Anything could happen here.

He looked back up at what was left of the hourglass, still working on its slow collapse. Yep. Absolutely anything.

* * *

You like? Hope so, I had to hop between three computers to get it done. Only two can connect to the internet, only a different set of two can properly read floppies, and only one can set up the file on Microsoft Word. <grumbles> You don't need to use computers to screw 'em up. They come that way.