A little Hidan story... A oneshot, I think it's called? Eh. Something like that.
Anyway, sorry if you think it gets off topic a bit... Just apologizing beforehand.
Italics- Memory
'Italics'- Thinking
Underline- Stressed word
A wet, warm fluid ran down the man's chin, his unique violet eyes rolling back into his skull in ecstasy.
"Oh... Oh Jashin-Sama... The pain... It feels so...So Good..." Hidan breathed, more of the sticky red liquid pouring out of his mouth and running down his face, dripping onto even more that ran down the saint's body.
Blindly searching on the ground around him with his free hand, his fingers brushed over a blood stained kunai, one that hadn't been inserted into some random body part of his.
Strange, the man thought, shoving the blade into his thigh, a stingning sensation radiating through his body. He yelled out in rapture, the pain like a drug to the white haired saint. His eyes rolled in their sockets, pausing for a moment to look in the mirror across the room. The corpse he saw in the mirror was a ghastly sight to those with untrained eyes. The zealot grinned at his reflection, blood staining his teeth.
The man's carcass was pinned to the bottom of the wall by a three bladed scythe, the blades inserted just below his ribcage. Blood-caked pikes were stabbed through his left shin and his pelvis at strange angles, splintering and breaking the bone, the white skeleton ripping through the saint's pale white flesh. Other sharp objects, such as shurikens, knives, and senbon were jammed into other parts of the man's body, blood forming and trickling down at the entry point of each stabbing.
Everytime he made a sacrifice to his beloved god Jashin, it always brought back memories, memories of when he was just a small child, learning the ways of Jashinism. He was just as reckless now as he was then, always attempting to stab, cut, or impale himself by something. In fact, he remembered, back before he was apart of Jashinism, when he made his first kill and slit his wrist for the first time, the sight of death, blood and the sudden rush of pain a feeling of pure exaltation and bliss.
"So," the child muttered to himself, twirling the small, sharp object in his fingers, "how am I supposed to do this, eh? I've seen father do it so many times... It shouldn't be that hard." He finished, scanning over the kunai within his grasp with large, violet eyes for the umpteenth time. In his other hand he lightly grasped a rosary, the end of the chain bearing the symbol of Jashin.
The boy sat on a tatami mat in his room, thinking of how to imitate his father's use of the ninja tool. He had his door closed, of course, to make sure to keep out his rather nosy mother who constantly checked on him.
But did closing your door ever really work?
A tall, thin woman approached the kid's door, her light violet eyes darting to and fro nervously, dark lines under them. She was Hidan's mother, even though their personalities were nothing alike and the only thing that made the two look even the slightest bit related were their strange violet colored eyes. "Hidan..." She called in her quiet, quivering voice, opening the door to her son's room, "I've made you lun-" The woman's breath caught in her throat, seeing what her thirteen year old son was clutching. The boy whipped his head around and looked at his mother with wide eyes, immidiately jumping up from the mat on his floor, a guilty and enraged look on his face. "Hidan! Drop that, this instant!" Hidan's mother shrieked, running stretching her arm out toward the little boy.
"No! Mine! It's mine, I-I found it!" The boy yelled, recoiling from his mother and running around his small bedroom, trying to avoid the woman, knocking over many papers and objects from the shelves in the process.
"Hidan! You- you didn't find that, you stole it! It's your father's! Give it to me, please...!" Hidan's mother pleaded, inching closer to her little boy, who slowly backed up from the woman. Hidan's father was a hard-core Jashinist, making bloody sacrifices every day in order to please his deity. The man was Hidan's role model, so to speak, the boy imitating almost everything his elder did, even going so far as to use profanity as much as the old man. Hidan looked almost exactly like his father, save for one another's eyes.
A spark of rememberance flashed in the silver haired boy's mind just as the pale faced woman stretched out toward him again, and a malicious grin made its way onto his face. Casting an evil glance at his mother, Hidan drew the sharp kunai up to his wrist, causing his mother to gasp.
"Hidan, please, don't do this. I don't want you to end up like your father!" The frail lady cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The boy frowned a bit at the comment about his father before, in one swift movement, cleanly slicing his mother's throat with the weapon, making the woman scream in agonizing pain.
She fell to the ground, clutching her bleeding windpipe. Hidan looked down at the woman with malice, yet still not knowing why he did such a cruel, hateful thing, his face contorted into a scowl, and his mother's face frozen in a combination of horror and pleading. A dark red liquid poured out of the woman and onto the wooden floor, the blood a deeper shade of color than the wooden beams.
"May Jashin have mercy on your pitiful, weak soul, wretched heathen." A deep voice growled.
Hidan quickly turned his head, the child's gaze connecting with his father's, the man's dark maroon eyes sending a chill down the boy's spine. "Father... I... I...-"
"Jashin knew that your mother was weak, hardly even fit for a sacrifice. He instructed- no, demanded that I kill her, rid her tainted blood of this world, but it seems that you have beaten me to it..." Hidan's father noticed the kunai and rosary in his son's grasp and smirked. "It seems you are intrested in the ways of Jashin, my son... The first step in that process is pain. Here." the man said, and tossed him another kunai out of his side pocket, which the boy skillfully caught. "Use that. The tool you have used to irraticate the heathen has her vitiated blood spilled upon it. Slit your wrist, child, and then we shall see if you can be taught the ways of Jashin."
Hidan looked at his father's stern gaze and nodded, raising the kunai to arm. He swallowed hard. Slowly the boy drug the knife across his flesh, the weapon making a clean and deep cut.
The sudden rush of pain caused the silver haired boy to gasp, clutching his wrist in throbbing agony, then moan in pleasure, a shiver running up his spine. He yelled out in pure elation. An intake of air cooled Hidan's body momentarily, for he had started to get a bit overheated at the sight of his own blood. A sticky red fluid started to flow down from his gash onto his arm, some of the liquid even dripping on the floor. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, like entering heaven while still breathing and in a state of conciousness. His senses were hightened, or, at least, the boy thought they were, seeing things in clearer colors he hadn't noticed before and he could hear the sounds of outside through his thick bedroom walls.
"J-Jashin... S-Sama...! The pain! It feels so good!" Hidan exclaimed, dropping the kunai to the ground and tightening his grip on the rosary in his other hand. Suddenly, his clear, perfect vision became clouded, darkness encroaching on the sides of his light of sight. His hearing seemed to become dimmed, the sounds of nature being replaced by a continuous humming sound. 'What's... What's happening...?' The boy thought before darkness consumed his sight.
Hidan's father chuckled, catching his unconcious son just before he fell to the ground. The amount of dried and fresh red liquid that could be seen on the boy's arm and on the hard wooden floor was a sure sign that he had fallen unconcious due to blood loss. The man wiped a bit of blood off of his son's arm, causing the sleeping boy to whimper a bit, and smeared it on his tongue, the sweet taste making him grin maliciously. "Yes... Yes... Jashin shall be pleased with you, my son... Very, very pleased."
"Fa.. ther..." The zealot gurgled, memories of the elderly Jashinist flooding back into Hidan's conciousness as darkness lapped at the sides of his vision.
Even after so many years, him and blood loss were not the best of friends.
"Jashin... S-Sama... Is pleased..."