Night Walker
A Ms. Masochistic Production
Disclaimer: She was almost there. Breath coming in small and shallow gasps, she ran towards the dingy pub's emergency exit, longing for the freedom it promised. "You'll never catch me alive!" She cackled towards her pursuers, huffing and puffing her way closer and closer to her one escape route. Reaching the door, she yanked it open, laughing in triumph as she made a hasty retreat. Five steps out the door she realised that the rights to the world of Naruto that she had stolen, were left on the table inside. "DAMNIT!"
Part One - Naruto
He carried out this same routine every day; every fucking day. Sometimes he wondered if he was a tad masochistic, although that would imply that he enjoyed it. To say that he hated it with a passion would be an understatement; to say that he would rather die than go one more day would be far closer to the truth. Or at least, closer to the only truth one could ever understand, having not been in his dire position.
The fact is, getting up each day was getting harder and harder to do and sometimes he wondered why he did it, only to be scorned and hated by the people he had sworn to protect. That he had already protected. Surely being the only thing between a rampaging demon and the rest of the village counted for something? I mean for crying out loud, he had the thing locked up in his stomach! Ironic that the jailer is hated for the crimes of the jailed. Whether or not he truly was saving the village is a matter of opinion though, and in his opinion he was sick of it.
By day he would walk alone through the streets, the burning eyes of the villagers cutting into his very skin, worse than the words or the kunai they threw.
"Demon child!"
"Devil spawn!"
"Orphan boy!"
He would don the mask he had grown so accustomed to wearing and watch as his will to live was served up on a silver platter for the ravenous villages to devour.
By night he would set up his microphone, the barely concealed tears of the daylight hours ready to stream down his face, posing as rivulets of sweat. He would scream and sing and cry his troubles away under the guise of another face, the brilliant club singer Kyuu Narue. With his shadow clones in place, posing as his back up band, he picked up his beaten old guitar and started to strum the first few bars of his latest song, knowing that it was only in his disguise that he would ever hear the villagers cheer for him.
Authors Note: I realise that this chapter is really short, but that's the point. This is just a teaser! I want to see what reaction it will get before i post the rest of the story. So, what do you think?