Dance of Darkness | Ryou Bakura

Dance Of Darkness

Title: Dance of Darkness

Universe: YuGiOh

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters belong to original creators. Pictures was taken from Google. Story is posted on Quotev and Fanfiction.net as well. It is completed.

Warnings: Female Bakura Ryou, Female Moto Yugi, Mentions of blood and character death.

Characters: Bakura Ryou, Moto Yugi, Yami Bakura, Yami Yugi

Summary: She wanted to be a dancer when she was young. A famous ballerina that danced along a stage in front of crowds of millions. But this wasn't what she envisioned. Instead of dancing alone and free, she was trapped and entangled in the strings of her sins. She was a puppet being lead by her ruthless puppeteer. [Fem!Ryou]

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She wanted to be a dancer when she was young. A famous ballerina that danced along a stage in front of crowds of millions.

She had dreamt of standing on a darkened stage with only a single spotlight falling on her. The stage itself would be covered within shadows, the curtains raised high. Faces of nameless people would stare back at her with awe and excitement blossoming on their faces. A hush of silence would greet her as she stepped into her first position, everyone eagerly awaiting the dance that was sure to come.

She would be wearing a dress of pure white. A simple outfit that would match her hair and unblemished skin. She imagined her face would be lightly covered in make-up. Every strand of hair would be perfectly placed. She would be an image of inhuman beauty, just like her mother.

The music would begin around her, and her body would move in graceful bounds and leaps. The dress she wore would flare out and her hair would spin around her figure. She would look just like an angel to her viewers. Innocent and beautiful to watch while she danced. She would be free to fly alone in the hushed space surrounding her. The spotlight would follow her every move so that no one could miss it.

That was what she dreamt when she was young. When she was still ignorant.

But now that the dream became reality, she could see how wrong she was.

Everything was how she imagined it to be. The dress was still white, her hair and make-up were still perfect. The spotlight lit up her figure and faces of nameless millions hushed as she moved into her first position.

But instead of awe and excitement, their faces held fear and horror. Her limbs were not freed, but rather held in place with golden strings that cut into her wrists, ankles, and neck. Crimson streams poured from her opened wounds and dripped carelessly onto the stage floor. It tinted that white dress she wore with reddened stains. Her own face, she knew, was torn between two expressions - fear and resignation.

A harsh tug on the string wrapped around her neck made her choke and tilt her head back.

High above her was her ruthless puppeteer. A man who looked so much like her, yet so different at the same time. He held his controller tightly in one hand while resting his cheek against the other. A cruel grin spread across his lips as he caught her brown irises with own crimson ones. The expression on his face was easy to read. It said one thing: "Let the Dance of Darkness begin!"

The music began and the strings tightened.

Her body was yanked to and fro without her command. More and more crimson steams poured from her wounds and a pained scream erupted from her lips.