A/n: IMPORTANT: So, the new Itachi/Sakura fic just like I promised! Just to warn you, it is totally different from Captive, so I'm sorry if you were expecting something similar. I can't say how quick the updates will be, but I can promise no longer than a month or two. So, read and review please! Oh, and just so everybody knows, I actually did my research for once and there were such things as Kabuki women, and they were before the time of the geisha. But instead of being in ancient times this is kind of a modern swing on the Kabuki women. So... Yeah, now you know I'm not making it up. Read and review please, and if you have any questions just ask.
Still can't find what keeps me here
When all this time I've been so hollow inside
I know you're still there
Watching me wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you loving you
I won't let you pull me down
Hunting you I can smell you - alive
your heart pounding in my head
Watching me wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Saving me raping me
Watching me
Evanescence: Haunted
"Jesus Christ..." The stout little cop muttered, fumbling with his radio as he called for back up. The neighbors called it in, reporting the little house at the end of the road to the police station, but the last thing Jiro Matashibi expected was this.
The entire home, from the minute he opened the door, was filled with the stench of death, and it soon became apparent why. At first, other than the ghastly smell, nothing seemed out of place or missing. The majority house was spotless, every inch looked as if it had been wiped down clean. It was only when you went into the bedroom, did you see the cause for Jiro's panic.
The whole bedroom itself was draped in thin, nearly invisible wires, hanging from hooks on the ceiling and the walls. But the feature that most dominanted the little room was its decaying centerpiece, or atleast what looked like one.
Hovering over the bed, suspended by wires, was the body of a young woman. Her arms, poised by tiny hooks embedded in the flesh of her elbows, were hyper-extended until they looked as if she were welcoming the Gods to Earth, her hands cupped to hold a single wilting, pink rose.
Her head was tilted back, the layers of wavy, blond hair swept back over the two narrow shoulders, and her mouth parted in an eternal scream. A roughly stitched cut stretched from ear to ear, curling up as if it were a ghostly smile.
The starch white material of a frilly, white gown fluttered lifelessly in the cool evening breeze that was seeping through the open bedroom window as it hung limply from her body. Only the very tips of her toes scraped against the bare mattress while she hung there, the rest of her body suspended and poised like some sort of sick piece of art. To gruesome to be beautiful but too grand to look away from.
A fingertip reached out, gently tracing the smooth edges of the young womans face from the photograph.
Perfect. Perfection. A true master piece of art. The girl was young, supple, and fresh. Everything he needed to create his master piece. He just had to be patient, and wait for just the right time. After all, his collection was just beginning to grow famous. There was time for a few more pieces until the grand finale.
A tongue snaked out, licking parched lips. Soon he would come for her, but now he had to leave.
Foot steps echoed softly as they moved down the long hallway, and all that remained was a flickering image of the shrine. Lit by a single candle, hundreds of pictures were illuminated in the soft light. Each one showing different poses and positions of the same girl.
A/n: Well? Is it a worthy replacement to Captive or shall I try again? I know its not even close to captive but the idea struck me and I just had to write it. I think it turned out pretty good myself. Review and tell me what you think!