Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or the characters, but the story is original. This is rated M for a reason. There are graphic scenes in here, you have been warned.
It's a cold dreary winter day in Amegakure (Village Hidden in the Rain), the snow is falling lightly, making a thin blanket over the town. My worn black boots make a sough sound in the snow as I walk towards the direction of my small, cozy two-bedroom apartment. I just lost my job as a computer technician to an older more experienced man. Thankfully, I foresaw this coming and I applied and landed a job at semi-popular butcher's shop one town over. My old co-workers used to joke about my charismatic and overly intelligent personality, though I was never obnoxious about my superior intellect. It irked me when they called me names, stole from my lunch on multiple occasions, and they would try to trip me whenever I was walking with a computer, or like equipment.
When I was younger I had unruly shoulder length raven hair and a bit of a feminine build and got tormented very bad because of it. At my current age of twenty-two, I have short tresses that is styled like a fashionable spikey bed head, dark grey eyes that are almost black (my teachers in school always said that my eyes were versicolor and changed to an almost blood red color whenever my mood is highly elevated), and I have a thin but muscular build. I have always enjoyed wearing plain t-shirts or cheap dress shirts, usually dark colors, and pairing them with either black/navy blue boot cut jeans, or black second-hand dress pants from my father.
I live alone with my little sister, Sawako, she's seventeen and still likes to call me "Shisui-nii-chan." It's quite touching really. She has long black hair that goes about halfway down her back, and matching onyx eyes. She usually wears her hair up in a messy bun.
Our mother and father passed away in a terrible car crash about four years ago and our older brother, Satoshi, is missing.
Because of me working during the day and Sawako going to day and night classes, we don't get to see each other that much. And because of my nighttime activities, I'm not always home when she is.
Next week we're going to move in with our grandparents over in Konahagakure (Village Hidden in the Leaves), they need help because they're in their late eighties and can't really handle living on their own anymore. I never liked my grandfather because he called me an "accident child" for being conceived by accident and for costing my parents so much for having lung problems when I was born a month and a half prematurely. Sawako was planned so he never goes after her and treats her like a princess. My grandmother just loves everyone, and even gets on grandfather's case when he picks on me. I'm thankful for her help, though I plan to resolve my differences with him at a later point.
Given my charismatic and charming persona, I can duplicate empathy almost to a t. This has proven to be both helpful and an undoing. It is helpful by means of manipulation, but it is an undoing because I must deal with the emotions and feelings of others. I do enjoy reading and connecting with the characters in the stories through their thought processes and projected emotions. My main genres of interest are horror, romance, tragedy, angst, and few years ago I got into stories about psychopaths and sociopaths. Quite fitting, no?
Everybody has their secrets, their own personal vices that they keep locked in a box, far away from the stretches of reality. That is of course, until the box is inevitably opened by the curse of curiosity. I have this journal where I keep all my darkest and bloodiest desires hidden away. I know where all those thoughts stemmed from. They stem from my troubled childhood.
When I was five years old, while Sawako was still in my mother, I had this huge birthday party in our backyard with about ten of my friends and family, excluding our grandparents who were out of town for the week. My older brother was there with a large music case. I thought this was odd since I've never seen him pick up anything to do with music before, but I decided to pay it no mind. As the party was getting closer to its peak, my parents went to go inside and get the cake, so everyone could sing "Happy Birthday" to me. Once they were inside, Satoshi went to the side and opened his music case. I was too young to know what he pulled out of it, but I quickly learned that it wasn't a good thing. He picked up the object and pointed it at everyone while loud sounds and blasts came out of the end of it. When I looked to where he was pointing, I saw red splashes of thick liquid exiting the people he pointed at. All the party goers began to fall one by one as the loud noises continued. I covered my ears and cowered under one of the tables, hoping that I wouldn't be the next one hit. After what seemed like forever, the noises and screams stopped. I timidly came out from under the table only to be meet the eyes of my deranged older brother. I asked him what happened to all those people and he bluntly told me that he shot them dead with a gun just because he hates accidents like me and wanted to make my birthday memorable for years to come. I asked why he didn't just kill me and he told me that it was because I was too weak to be killed and that accidents need to learn their lessons the hard way. After he said that, he disappeared from our backyard and our lives. I shakily walked around all the now dead bodies of my loved ones, all soaked in blood. I don't remember what happened afterwards other than I blacked out.
Once the initial trauma started dying down after the first few months, I started to notice a change in myself. I started liking red more, even craved to see it whenever I could, I also began to develop a morbid interest in small animals and I just wanted to take control of them and murder any that I found. It all began when I purposely stepped on a trusting rabbit's neck. I crushed the fragile bones with my foot, the eyes made an audible pop as they came out of their sockets. The sight amazed me so much. Just remembering the scene in my head, I can still hear the shrill squeaks of pain and it just gives me the most satisfying goosebumps. The feelings I got from taking that small life were incredible. I began to crave it more.
Throughout my childhood from there on, I would sneak out of my room at all hours of the night and go on countless little "sprees" with whatever unlucky animal that crossed my path. At first, I would hunt down small animals such as rabbits, rats, and chipmunks. It took me about six months to get myself into good hunting shape. I practiced stalking the animals and practiced making a kill ritual. After every kill, whether it was slow and drawn out, or rushed and near painless, I found my satisfaction, as well as my need to kill, gradually grow.
I often found myself wondering what it would be like to kill something bigger than a rodent. I started stalking loose or stray cats and dogs in the neighborhood. Since they lost their meaning to me after the incident with Satoshi, I was ruthless. One night around ten p.m. I lured a cat to the woods with treats. Once it trusted me enough to hold it, I began squeezing its chest tighter and tighter. There were a few meows of pained protest before I took a knife out and began cutting its paws off. Then there were loud and begging meows escaping its mouth as the accompanied thrashing about. I took a little rope out of my pocket and tied it around the cat's neck to act as a leash. One by one the paws were cut off and the cat became more and more weak. I then took my knife and began to skin it alive. I started at the front paws and worked my way back. As I was peeling back skin and fur I began to laugh from the joyous feeling I was creating in my mind. Once the cat was all skinned, I took its barely alive body and began shoving dirt, bugs, and leaves into all the orifices, as well as smearing dirt all over the open flesh. As the cat was about to die, I took a hammer out of my bag and began mercilessly beating it into a pile of flesh and bones. After it's brains were scattered about, I began digging a shallow three feet deep grave and dropped its lifeless body into it and then buried the corpse. Once I put a few leaves and branches over the fresh dirt, I went over to a nearby pond and washed the blood and furry skin pieces off myself and made my way back home to Sawako.
As time passed, I became more skilled with the art of killing. I was never disgusted with my actions, I encouraged myself because it's the only thing besides Sawako that make me feel alive. She's such a sweet girl, she's one of the few things that can make me feel something. She has this innocence about her that I just don't want to tarnish. She wants to become a vet when she's older. I think it would be great for her since she loves animals. Later this year she's going to graduate high school. I'm very excited for her to start pursuing her goals in life.
This is the end of chapter one. I'm sorry it's kind of short, but I'm going to be writing more tomorrow or later this week. Hopefully I'll have another chapter by then ^^ Sakura will be entering the story in the next chapter or two.
Anyways, let me know what you guys think! Ja ne!