Mirages and Mirrors

Prologue

Warnings are as follows: Language, violent and explicit content and psychological screw ups. Another warning is the fact that this is not a 'Romantic Story' at all.

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A pale eyed female coughed, blood splattering on the wall across her. She held her stomach while her eyes narrowly looked around. The wound in her side gaped like the wound of a toothless newborn – a shift of clothing behind her. She turned and was struck powerfully across the face with a fist. Being flung back, she coughed up more blood against the craggy concrete, her cheek scraping. She gasped and struggled to raise herself up on weakened arms. A foot slammed harshly into her chest, robbing her of all her breath, before it shifted upwards so that the sole ground into her throat. "Get…off," she hissed between wet wheezes in which her blood dripped and pooled. The foot pressed down harder and she coughed, eyes closing tightly for a moment.

The pressure was relieved from her chest and she gasped in air, inhaling so much that it made her eyes bulge. A sandal ground against the rough surface and a figure with dark hair sticking every which way squatted down beside her. Red eyes glared at her, a red dragon rising behind those irises, "You just had to fuck up, didn't you?" he said with an impatient cluck of his tongue.

She could barely breathe, let alone answer him so she narrowed her eyes in a smoldering glare at him. He drew in closer to her, so she could see the crinkle around his eyes while he narrowed them at her. "Tell me," his hand moved too fast for her to see it and the kunai she'd been stuck with earlier had regained its place within the wound, twisting, while she winced and tried to move away – he gripped one shoulder with a strong hand and leaned in to her ear. "Was it worth it?" the kunai went in deeper and she tried to move away, coughing blood into the crook of his neck. His tone went softer, "Was it?"

Hinata pushed at his chest and shoulder, trying to get space and get the cold metal out of her gut, twisting only slightly, going to the hilt and pulling back out to slice up or down. "You can't even talk, weakling." She froze and there was silence, just the drip drop of her life fading away – she hadn't been called like that since they'd been children.

"W…why are you even….here?" she whispered, trying to sound venomous but coming off as wounded, injured and hapless.

She felt his chest rumble, he was laughing at her, bitterly and mockingly but nonetheless, "I came to make sure," he dug the kunai in and twisted it, causing her to convulse a bit, "That you know what you're guilty of." A hiss, the sound of the betrayed howling at hell's moon for vengeance.

"I…" she was losing air; her lungs were being bound together like barrels with twine – snapping together haughtily. "You know that…that was w-wrong." She had long since stopped trying to shove Sasuke off her.

His hand wove in her hair and slammed her on the ground; he leaned over her with his knee in her stomach, kunai shoved up to the hilt. "What was wrong was that you had the gall to turn your back on me."

Hinata's mouth opened to respond and a gush of darkened blood spilled out, over her chin and throat. Sasuke leaned over her, his shadow blocking her vision of the darkened sky. His forehead, warm and slightly sweating touched her, icy and corpse resemblance. The kunai was wrenched out and there was a hair's breadth before he spoke once more, "You should know by now that I hate traitors," for a moment, there is something that slithers through the ebony – only for a split second. Slithers and stops, twines and whispers regret to her eyes that uncover everything. His mouth is carved from a knife, all sharp lines of hate and anger and betrayal, his eyes are narrowed and dark like dead ashes but…there is water on these dead ashes. It stays on the surface and never flinches, even when Hinata tries to gurgle up an apology to this person, this boy, this friend of hers.

She's too cold to say anything but chatter her teeth nonsensically and shiver. Die.

And his hand came down, the knife glinting.

The splurge of muscles and nerves tearing, blood spurting out and she trembled beneath him. Dark eyes stared down at her, from which she stared blankly up at and her chest shuddered once, exhaling painfully.

Overhead, a crow cawed in a naked tree, spreading black wings to the quarter moon.

-

I know, it's painfully short but it's a prologue and this is basically Cataclysm redone. XP I didn't like the way the other one went along at a snail's pace. It irritated the crap out of me, so I hope this one will be a little better. XP Bye-bye…for now…