Well, here's a new one shot which I've been working on for weeks. I was so inspired to write this because of Stuart Townsend's excellent portrayal of Lestat in the 2002 film Queen of the Damned (which is a fantastic film in my opinion), so I imagine Yami Bakura as sort of like Lestat personality-wise in this one.
Disclaimer: Genius Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and prodigy Kazuki Takahashi owns Yu-Gi-Oh. I own the stories, poems, novellas, songfics and oneshots I cook up from time to time.
It was nighttime in Sunnydale, California. Yami Bakura was walking down the sidewalk. He was wearing a dark black shirt, blue Levis and blue-and-white striped shoes. Over the shirt was a long black trenchcoat that swished around his ankles. He had white spiky hair and brown eyes. He looked to be 18 years old, but his real age was 5,000.
Then...all of a sudden, his power of sixth sense came into play.
He smirked. Yes, she is here. She will come to me.
He knew who she was...
Dawn, sixteen, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, was a feisty girl. She had a sense of adventure. And if there was a flaw in her, it was usually not listening. But there was something else that attracted her to adventure...its creativeness of revealing itself as it went along.
However, that happened to be the spark that would start the forest fires of attraction that also attracted him to her in the first place.
Yami Bakura was like Dracula. He knew how to charm the girls, and he would kill just to feed, but sometimes he preferred to have a connection with his victims. However, that was as far as the resemblance went. Yami Bakura didn’t have 3 brides. The reason why was because he preferred to have only one bride; he figured one bride was enough for him.****************
Dawn was walking out in the rain. Her orange sweatshirt was soon getting spattered with water droplets. She started to walk into an alley.
When she was walking down the alley, she saw a dark shadowy figure.
“Uh-oh,” Dawn said under her breath.
“Wait!” the voice said weakly. “Can you help me?”
“W-What do you need? Do you need a doctor?” Dawn said, worried.
“Yes, please. My legs hurt,” the figure responded.
Dawn sprinted over to the figure, and saw a man, about 23, with black hair, shoulder length. He had red eyes – probably colored contacts.
“Where does it hurt again?” Dawn asked gently.
“Here!” the man said, but his voice was not weak anymore. It was deep, and with a hint of menace in it. He pushed Dawn to the ground, and pulled off her orange sweatshirt. Dawn screamed, but he covered her mouth with a towel he brought. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong. She managed to kick him in the crotch, and he fell to the ground. But soon he got back on his feet, and then pulled out a knife.
“I’d hate to use this on such a pretty girl...” he said. “But...if I must, then I will!”
He slashed downwards with the blade, cutting a lateral across Dawn’s abdomen. Dawn howled in pain, but the towel stuffed in her mouth softened the sound. Then he was taking off his shirt, button by button.
Dawn tried to back away. He grabbed her foot, and took off her shoes and socks with a bit of a struggle.
“Quit resisting!” he yelled.
Again, he slashed Dawn, this time by the zipper on her jeans. Dawn howled in pain and started to cry. Again and again she tried to punch and kick him, but he was too strong, and she became weak.
“Take off your jeans,” the man said.
Dawn shook her head, scared.
“Take them off, or I will take them off myself,” he hissed.
Dawn scooted a little ways away, but felt the blade below her waistline...
She screamed again, and felt the man come on top of her. He punched her many times, causing bruises all over her body. He savagely pulled off her jeans and underwear. He shoved her to the ground, and pulled off his own pants as well. Dawn screamed again and again, but the cursed towel wouldn’t let her be heard!
The man looked up sharply as a cold, cruel laugh echoed throughout the alley. Then he felt himself being lifted up by the throat and pushed up against the wall.
Dawn lay there on the ground, too weak to move. She felt as though she had run a marathon, or something like it. Only that didn't even come close. She then opened her eyes, and saw.....No way! It cannot be him!
Her would-be rapist’s eyes widened as the owner of the voice came into his line of vision. It had white spiky hair and cold brown eyes.
Then the rapist said pleadingly, “Please, let me go. Just spare me my life, please!”
The dark figure smirked.
“Oh, really?” he said, his brown orbs glowing in the darkness of the night. “You plead for your life? You go around raping women, and in her case” - he turned to look at Dawn as he said this, and smirked - “a sixteen-year-old girl, just because you can’t score with them yourself.”
Then he brought the rapist down to his level so they could look each other in the eyes, and bared his throat. Yami Bakura then opened his mouth, and his sharp ivory fangs, glistening like brutal weapons such as the sword when unleashed, made their appearance. Finally, he sank his teeth into the rapist’s throat. The crimson fluid that was the rapist’s life force ran down his tongue and the corners of his mouth. To a vampire, blood tasted like honey with a bit of sugar added to it.
Then, when the rapist was no more, he wiped his mouth clean with his tongue. put the body in a dumpster, and turned to the younger Summers sister. He knew that had it not been for him, she would’ve been raped or murdered.
Only now, thanks to him, that would never take place. The rapist’s plans were now ruined.
He walked over to Dawn and bent down, smirking, then reached over and traced her features with a pale, white finger. She smiled a bit nervously.Meow,
Although he sensed the sound of danger in the air, he simply just ignored it and picked Dawn up bridal-style. Then he headed down the alley and into the shadows, the prize he had sought for so long finally in his arms.