Disclaimer: …I don't own any of the Naruto characters, or this plot aside from myself tweaking it a bit ;)

This is my first Fanfiction so I would appreciate you go easy on the critism, please review. I'm open for anything ^-^

Songs I used throughout the story:

Numb: Linkin Park Animal I've become: 3 Days Grace

It's been a while before this rain had stopped. In my village it rains for days on end, relentlessly. I haven't seen a day that hasn't been dark or dreary…not yet. I've been here for awhile now, just sitting down in a pit of this complete silence that was made for me and nobody else. It forms the shape of a star, this fire that surrounds me. People had always called me the Satanist, but who are they, to exclaim my belief when they themselves know not of theirs. Pathetic I would notion, this derogatory energy towards me. I feel enough already. There's this burning deep inside me, I can feel it slowly churning in the depths of my stomach. I can feel it wherever I turn. This fire that burns me and the darkness that binds me. The light that seeks refuge against my hovel is basically the only light I see. Sometimes when I'm lucky I get to see the big circle that's hovering out there by the bars that block my escape. It's really big and bright and I see it every night.

November 5th1998

I lifted up my head to the light and looked out of my confinement. I glanced by left twice and the right side thrice times and saw nothing but black pitch. It's what I see every day and it's what I'm beseeched to see now and probably for the rest of my life. I don't know the last time I've moved, or moved any part of my body for that matter. I know I get on my knees occasionally to eat, but if that's what's keeping me alive, then what's the point? Keeping a beast alive when everyone in the world wants it dead was as sane as putting oil to feed a fire that was supposed to burn out months ago. My fire was long gone, even though I was still alive; burning on the inside I was still raging but no longer as the spark I once was. I was dead and hovering on the brink of non-existence. That was what I was, a fire that provided no heat and no light. I was as good as dead, because apparently I was.

Complete silence engulfed me, as it took some time to realize that I was alone. Nobody was with me and in time I learned that nobody would ever be. This silence comforted me though, it was like a warm blanket clinging on to me after a snow fight in the winter time; and it was like hugging a mother that I never had. I've spent some time thinking about my parents; the reason why the left and the reasons why they never loved me. Was it because I was a beast? It surely must be true, but I've been a good boy, and if mother were here she would've praised me on how much I make her proud, and father would put his arm around me and talk about how strong I was."Who am I kidding…?"They left me here for a reason…if they loved me then they would have never brought me here in the first place. Was it because they already had a son? Was he all that they wanted? Maybe I came into the world as a mistake, something that wasn't supposed to be here. Sometimes I think things like this and cry. Crying calms me down and helps me sleep if the medicine that the people gave me didn't do the job.

I've always thought that I was the most miserable person here, but in time I've learned that I wasn't the only person in this place. I've come to be-friend this one boy who stays in a small cell about three doors down from my own. He yips and he whines and every morning I can hear the low howl he gives off to signal he's hungry; he was never always like that though. I don't understand what they did to him. He used to be my friend, the only friend I ever had. They gave him mutt genetics, I'm sure of it. They slaughtered the puppy he had with him the day he came here, I saw it with my own two eyes, but just because I was the one who saw it didn't mean I was the one most affected. Kiba Inuzuka, almost died that day, just for the dog. I've never been an animal kind of person but when I saw him holding that puppy for dear life my heart nearly melted. His fur was crimson red and he seemed already dead, and the boy was acting like he already was. They took him away and burned him ignoring his pleas and cries. Whilst I was watching no dire look came upon my face, the case was because these kinds of things had already happened once…moreover twice before. Of course I held a moment of admiration for him; he was the first person with the bravery to fight back. People who get sent here lose their will to fight and ultimately end up fighting for a life that has no meaning anymore. He was so young…he was my age I could tell. Apart from age, the general distinction of him made me shiver right down to my core. He was burly, but skinny at the same time, it was almost impossible insisted possible. It was rather confusing really, but being here all my life, nothing seemed quite real anymore.

This cell is like a dementor, it sucks me dry of all the happiness I've ever had, and all the memories I've ever experienced. However in my case, since this unreality only sucks the things I've never lived then the magic doesn't work on my account. Happiness is the only thing it feeds on, whilst it would feed on my loneliness I would have crumbled to dust years ago. The sticky tile floor makes my skin feel burned, vulnerable. I swear that I can feel the blood rushing through the tiny skin cells that I have, but when the people touch me all I feel is coldness. Their freezing hands to touch my throat, goes down and impales the abused skin that nestles underneath. I read about vampires, was this it? Were their fingers the fangs that knotted against the skin that so easily broke? Couldn't have been, no matter how cold blooded they seemed they never tasted my blood that splattered the walls. It's not only my blood that paints the beautiful mural over-head my own head. The people who were imprisoned here before me had their own compensation upon the wall as well. Whether they had lived through the hell, or died while trying to surely die. But I've become so numb, so I don't feel the pain anymore. I can't escape this hell…so many times I've tried, but I'm still caged inside, I want somebody to get me through this nightmare because I can't control myself anymore. I can't escape from myself because I've lied so much, and there's so much rage inside. I want somebody to save me from this hell. But so what if you can see the devil inside me? This isn't me, this boy that imprisoned here of all places in which I never wanted to be.

My sanity is slowly fading away, into the darkness and into the abyss of my unreality. I've been able to keep my judgment for the longest time, and now I feel that I'm losing a raging battle. I sink down to my knees and observe the ceiling with my withered head pulled back. "Please…If there's a God out there, save me from the fire, I feel too warm. Warmness is all I feel even in the darkest of times, so why is it that I feel so cold when I'm supposed to feel warm?" I closed my eyes and stayed in that position for a while…just listening. Listening for a sign, anything that could assist me right here…right now. Silence was all that I heard.

I could feel my head move forward. "What…what am I doing?" I breathed softly, letting my eyes see what was before me. I couldn't see clearly. Everything was getting blurry. "I can't cry…I haven't cried for three years, how is this possible?" But I wasn't crying, I wasn't doing anything. "Yes I am…I'm crouching" Apparently I was hunched over, clutching for a hand that wasn't there. The bars disappeared, the walls, the blood and the blackness simply faded away. My hand was still out-stretched reaching for it's savior, but none came. I saw my life flash before my eyes and I felt myself in and out of consciousness. "I'm dying" It was true; this reality was leaving me, ever so slowly. My mind would not support me, and it was starting to die out, just like my seldom selflessness.

I felt the warmness flood my body, it warmed my soul, and to the very tips of my frost-bitten toes. My face was feeling the coldness though, the stifled air was licking the delicate hairs on my face causing me to wince in a pain that I had reason to fear from. I opened my eyes in the dark, but only saw red. The blood bathed walls surrounded me in a cold embrace, and the river of my tears was keeping me suspended from falling into the abyss of my imagination that wasn't there. I looked up to the ceiling and wondered about where exactly in the world I was. I looked to the left and saw nothing in a particular form. I felt like I was in the belly of the beast I myself created from my hatred that had honed in on my instincts from a while ago. My body went rigid as my head slowly traveled upwards. I saw a flash of movement in a corner and I stared in complete silence. "What was that?" I questioned. Like paralyzing hypnotism I felt myself get up from the salted water and trail after the thing I just saw a second ago. My feet trudged behind me, and I could feel the passive look I had on my face. I could feel my eyes bulge in a dreamy sort of stance, as I made my way forward…always forward. I rounded the dark corner on my right and leaned on the wall to keep from falling. I felt so weak; I didn't know how long I could last being here. I felt that by me being here, of all places in which I had no idea what was, was important. I don't know why but I just…felt I needed to be here, anywhere while being here. I soon came face to face with a familiar cell. It was my cell, over enlarged by the pain that built up inside me from the thirteen years I've been in that place. I could feel the hate emanating from it, it was so hot. I reached up a hand that didn't look familiar to me to touch those flaming bars. It started to glow the most beautiful shade of crimson, and I stared with a blank expression. I've never in my life…experienced such beauty before. My mind probably wasn't even able to comprehend that it was beautiful. I could feel the burning sensation from the bars radiating its heat to my sweaty palms. I didn't understand that this pain was bad though, so I held on. I clenched the bars tighter which made them scorch my hands painfully. This pain felt good though, I could see the blood drip down slowly, first from my fingertips and then to the end of my tendered wrists. I felt that my hands were going to fall off, or at least get burned from the impact, but no… they stayed intact and therefore I still held on. I could feel the heat…I could see the heat. It appeared as such a bloody mist. It was coming from what was inside the cell, not just the bars. I knew something was going to happen. Being that my judgment wasn't concerned about things such as these I still held on for dear life. The pain traveled from my hands to my knees and I felt myself kneeling in the same tears as I was in a while ago. This pain…it hurt so badly but I still clutched these bars that had caused me pain all of my life. I started to tremble and I let my head droop forward in defeat. Sweat mixed with my own blood and made my hands slowly go downwards. I gripped the bars even tighter and traveled my head up to seek the bars and challenged them to defy me. This heat was deadly warm and I felt myself wrapped in a blanket of flames. Something moved within the vast cage and I caught the sudden movement. I knew something was in there, and I glared within the depths of the blackness. It was fox-like, bearing a grin that blatantly told a person that it wasn't to be trusted, but I oversaw it. I looked into its eyes that were almost like my own. The pain, the suffering, everything that were pulled from mine and into its. I stared into its soul, and I could feel it stare into mine. The burning sensation never let up and I stood there as long as the air stifled my oxygen supply. "What is this?" I called out to myself. I was surprised when the low grumble answered me instead. Deathly still I stood there, waiting for his reply. I received none though but a tugging urge on my heart to release this beast once and for all. I weakened my grip on the cage and got up slowly. I stretched out my hand to peel back that tiny slip of paper that bind the bars together.