Work Text:
Ryou Bakura had an intrusive thought that something horrific would happen every eight years, he had plenty of evidence for this theory.
When he was eight, his mother and sister had died in a car accident. Later that year he’d lost his father too and gained one terrible curse.
When he was sixteen he’d been an unwilling accomplice to an attempted world destruction plot. The curse that had a mind of its own had taken control of his body and walked him about like a puppet causing misery.
Ryou was now twenty-four years old and he hated that intrusive thought that his next downfall was just around the next corner.
But, he had much more present worries, like the current draft of his thesis that he was successfully putting off. Ryou was a Studies of Religion major with a minor in Anthropology, his thesis was on historical interpretations and understanding of demonic possession, to put it in a few words. Considering his circumstances, it was a little too on the nose, but maybe that’s why he’d chosen it.
Currently, Ryou was writing on one of his blogs, as irony would have it- the blog was on almost exactly the same topic.
Ryou for the past year or so had been writing a semi-anonymous account of what being possessed was like. Documenting the events also helped solidify to him that somehow, they really had occurred. It was his public testimony. He had promised himself in the bio to be as open and honest about his experiences as he could, without revealing too much of his identity. The blog attracted a strong following. Some denounced him as a liar and some took comfort in his experiences. He assumed the overall readership, however, was just fulfilling a morbid curiosity.
This particular night while ignoring his thesis project Ryou was skimming through comments, one happened to catch his eye.
“Hello Dream_catcheR, your story is incredible so far, I can’t believe somebody could go through something like this! I hope it’s okay to ask you a bit of a weird question. Anyway, you said once you were aware of this spirit you noticed where the ‘divide’ between you and him was. Anyway, I was wondering if at any time you ever felt like too close to that divide like maybe the line between you and the spirit started to blur? Love the blog!
-Nightmaring.”
Ryou stared at the screen for a long time, even after he’d finished reading the question. He often picked a few comments to answer after a post went up. Something about the comment struck a chord in him, so he wrote an answer.
“Hello to you Nightmaring thank-you for your kind words. In answer to your question, there is a short version and a long version. The short version is yes, and sometimes, even still, I worry that he somehow had an impact on who I could become. I cannot say we never had anything in common.
-Dream_catcheR.”
Ryou hit post on his comment, and instantly the original poster replied.
“Do you miss the spirit?”
It’s not the first time he’d been asked. The speed at which the message popped up gave him some feeling of unease, but compelled to see this through now, he replied.
“I miss parts of him. It’s like having a roommate, however terrible someone is- it’s still company.”
Again, as soon as Ryou posted his comment the poster replied,
“So, if the spirit came back to you, would you take him back?”
Ryou didn’t even notice how fast he was breathing.
“No.”
Ryou posted the comment and closed his computer. His hands pressed down on the top of the case as if he was holding it shut. It was still early in the night, by his own standards, but he went to bed anyway. Sleep evaded him, he couldn’t stop dwelling on the rapidly appearing comments and the strange thread of questions.
For the next few days, Ryou refused to check his blog. Avoiding his distractions lead to him actually doing some work on his thesis even.
For a while after the incident, he felt a brief compulsion to text someone, who might understand his fears, but he ignored the idea. His fears weren’t real anymore.
After a week, enveloped by his curiosity and with a new post in mind, Ryou opened his blog.
The top comment with a thousand upvotes was Nightmaring.
It was a written file path, the names were his own file names on his own computer, leading to something called ‘five.mov’.
He didn’t recognise it, he couldn’t resist it either. Ryou opened his files, following the instructions, he clicked through folders until he got to an untitled one hidden among his thesis documents. How on earth had he missed an untitled folder? Inside as the comment promised was the video file titled ‘five’. Ryou hovered his cursor over it, hands shaking, unable to bring himself to click, open it. He held his breath and hit the button.
The video had been taken on a mobile, it showed him, himself. Holding his phone, standing in his bathroom, filming himself in the mirror.
Ryou had no memory of making such a video, let alone uploading it to a hidden folder on his computer.
Himself on the film waved and smiled at the mirror, holding the phone in one hand, he unbuttoned his shirt with the other. On Ryou’s pale chest were five scars, he knew them well. The film version of himself pointed to each one and held up his free hand.
‘Five.’
Ryou looked at his own face, twisted into a smile that seemed wrong to him. His film version then spoke in a voice that made Ryou’s skin crawl.
“Five…days…weeks…months…or years? Wait.” His film self waved again, and the video ended.
Ryou’s computer fell off his lap, he didn’t feel worried for its wellbeing when he heard it thud against the carpet. His head was swimming with other thoughts and fears.
Ryou had always felt like every eight years something bad would happen.
But as he watched rapid comments appear on his blog all saying ‘five’ he realised he’d been afraid of the wrong number.