A/N: Naruto will have Kyuubi's (general) personality for this fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its affiliates.
I glared heatedly at the cold white ceiling as it closed in on me slowly, forcing the sanity out of my head; it taunted me, laughed at me, reminded me of my unresponsive body. My skin itched all over, but I couldn't lift a finger to scratch it. My arms were detained after I'd tried to strangle one of the doctors, as well as my fingers after I'd nearly tore apart my palm from the pain of the treatment – I refused to take any sedatives, in case they tried anything while I wasn't conscious. Not that it mattered – I blacked out periodically during the procedure – but I've never trusted doctors before, and I'm not about to start now.
With nothing to do and a strong ache to ignore, I decided to replay the memory of why I was held prisoner in this damnable room: it happened only yesterday, inside a nameless bar in which I'd taken refuge from the heavy rain....
I sat down on the shoddy wooden bar-stool and ordered myself a glass of brandy, cringing at the smell of the place. A wide assortment of city-rats occupied the establishment – the bartender included. I nursed my drink slowly, lost in my own world, until a voice brought me back to reality.
"Hey Mr. Sadface, stop lookin' so gloomy; it's bringing me down as well."
Surprised, I turned to look at her, not expecting to see such a pretty face; shoulder-length pink hair framed her heart-shaped face, and emerald iris' gleamed mischievously through cat-shaped eyes. Regardless of her beauty, I was not in a good mood, so I replied sardonically:
"Really? I'm sorry. It's just, I've been contemplating life and all, and I've come to the conclusion that if the world was without attention-hungry whores like you, life would be just that much more enjoyable; don't you agree?"
I assumed she'd gotten the point as she didn't pursue further conversation, though her cheeks were flushed with anger, much to my amusement. Turning my attention back to the drink, I swiftly emptied its contents and called for a second glass.
It seemed the alcohol dulled my senses, as the man behind me had already gotten into striking distance before I noticed him. I mentally sighed, annoyed that I couldn't be left alone for more than ten minutes before being rudely interrupted. I let him reach for the handle of his gun before grasping the lip of the bar and lifting myself into the air, my legs bent to cradle the base of the stool between my feet. I twisted my lower body to the right and forced the stool into the man's face, punching through his right eye with one of the wooden legs. I pushed hard off the bar with both hands and straightened my back, bending my body upwards and putting all my weight on the seat. The man tumbled backwards and was impaled into the floor with a sickening squish as the wood sank further into his eye socket. Unfortunately, the legs of the stool went through the floorboards – and I went with it.
I cursed at being caught immobile, knowing the other vermin would jump at the chance to beat me bloody in retribution for their dead comrade. Though most were hesitant to try after seeing their companion get slaughtered so easily, one was able to muster up his courage and approach me, albeit carefully. I could still take on one or two with only my arms, but any more than that and I'd be eventually overwhelmed – unfortunately, men of this sort rarely fought alone against a stronger opponent. My fears were confirmed as more stirred from their seats and joined the other man, which gave him a boost in confidence and drove him to rush my immobile form.
I caught his right leg as he lifted it to punt at my head and pulled it out from under him, but before I could do more the others jumped into the fray. I twisted the ankle of one man and broke the wrist of another, but there were too many to handle and my defenses were quickly broken.
I was cut, kicked, and strangled, but I always managed to break their hold on my neck before the life was squeezed out of me. I managed to trip one of the bigger men which pulled down a dozen others, but it was only a small ripple in the sea of bodies. I felt a knife bury itself deep into my gut, and I could only manage to snap the bone out of the offending arm before my consciousness escaped from the pain and was consumed by darkness....
The sharp, pulsating pain from my wounds woke me from my revery with an anguished scream. I dimly heard the door whip open and one of the nurses yell for a doctor, but my own voice soon drowned out all other noises. I began to thrash against the constraints as my scream turned into a growl, and I bared my fangs at the faces that blocked the sight of the cold white ceiling that taunted me, that drove me insane, that laughed and stomped all over my pride with a snicker so sinister, so vile....
"Hey Mr. Asshole, you awake yet?" A distinctly female voice called out somewhere close by, but my head felt too heavy to turn and find out where.
"I am now, thanks to the disgusting sound of your voice. Why are you here and what do you want, attention-hungry whore?"
She gave a curt laugh at my response before gracing me with her own:
"You really should be kinder to me, or I might not want to save you again-"
"Good, your saving sucks. I'm three-quarters dead, and slowly getting closer to four." I interrupted, wishing I could direct my heart-stopping glare at the only other living organism in the room; instead, I had to be content with the already-dead plaster above.
"Oh, stop being such a baby; the doctors told me you'll live, though just barely...hey, better than being dead, right? Anyways, to answer your questions: number one, I wanted to see if you're still alive; and number two, if you were still alive – which you are – I wanted to claim my stake on your life. So...because I saved your life, you belong to me and must obey my every command."
"No, wait, what? How the fuck did you come to that conclusion? I am not going to become your fucking lapdog, wench. I never asked to be saved, you only assumed – and your assumption was wrong."
Her silence was deafening, and I was beginning to wonder if she had actually left without even saying goodbye. Suddenly, I felt icy fingers dance upon my neck, sending shivers up my spine.
"W-what're you doing?!" I nearly shrieked, ashamed at being caught unawares by this lowly woman.
"Quiet, let me concentrate." She scolded, "Now, let me see, how did this thing work again...."
I felt some kind of leathery-fleshy contraption snap around my neck, and this time I did shriek in surprise.
"W-what the fuck did you just do to me?!"
"Hey, don't be so loud! I just did what I said I'd do – claim your life as mine." She replied in a matter-of-fact manner, like it was plainly obvious.
"What do you mean, claim my life? I already told you no, what more do you want?" I said, with less conviction than I wanted.
Before she could answer, the nurse entered the room and informed her of my daily checkup. I felt relief that the crazy pink-haired vixen had to leave, even at the expense of enduring another pain-filled probe of mind and body. Before she left, though, she made sure to shout:
"Remember, your life is mine!"
The thing around my neck writhed in response, and I felt a putrid bile rise up my throat.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm new to writing action, so please give me pointers and point out any problems you see. Please review if you want to see more, because I'm a writer who needs a lot of encouragement to make my lazy butt type new chapters :).