Well, this is my first attempt at a story with chapters. I hope it doesn't suck too much. Reviews power my inspiration, as well as fuel my motivation.
Disclaimer: Naruto characters are not mine, although Nariko is.
The room where they keep me is black. Black walls, black floors, black door, with a black lock outside. No lights; the room is nothing but shadows; which are, of course, black. But not everything is pure black, there are spots of red. Red splatters cover the black, but without the light, all it appears to be is black.
The light is never a good thing. It means that someone is here, either to beat me, rape me, or summon me to work. I look forward to when they make me work- it's easiest, and when I'm done they allow me to eat. It's never much, usually a bottle of water, a roll of bread, and if I'm lucky, a piece of fruit. It's carelessly thrown in my room while I run in after it, before they change their minds. They've done that before.
"They" refers to my, although I hate to call them this, parents. My mother, age long forgotten, has grey eyes and milk-chocolate brown hair. I've never learned her name, just been instructed to call her "Mother". She's the nicer of the two. My father, age also forgotten, has blonde hair and very deep blue eyes, nearly black. He is to be called "Father", or "Master" when he "shows me his love", or more realistically put, rapes me. He's truly heartless.
That brings me to who I am. My name is Nariko Suzuki. Time holds no reason here, so I don't know how old I am. I am truly a mix of my two parents- my eyes an ice blue with grey flecks in the light. My hair itself is my mother's shade of brown, while my bangs are blonde like my father's. This I only know because when Mother had me clean the hallway, I looked in the mirror.
Now, like I often am, I sit on the floor of my room, thinking. Nothing to do, no one to please. It is free time I loathe; second only to when my father has his way with me.
A loud crash came from outside my door, which is unusual, but the door locks from the outside, so I can't open it. Besides, my father probably lost his temper again. He has a short fuse, probably why mine is so short. But after a few moments, I realize it probably isn't my father. My mother didn't yell at him for whatever broke. In fact, there was no noise at ll. Dead silence enveloped the house, adding an eerie quality to the already odd situation.
My walls, though thick, aren't soundproof. Because of that, I am able to hear the voices in the hallway. What they say is lost in the plaster and concrete, but as they walk closer, their voices gain clarity. There are two people, both males. The words are still muffled; it isn't possible to know what they're talking about. The tone is clear though, and it's obvious one is angry. The other seems annoyed, though not hostile. However, the presence they carry with them suggests evil and sin. Darkness follows them.
They eventually drift close enough for me to understand what they say:
"Danna un! Why are we still checking through the house? We were here on an assassination mission! We did our part un!"
"Shut up brat. Did you not listen to the briefing? We're here to get the girl." Me?
"Girl, un?"
"They had a daughter. Approximately 14-16. They use her as a servant. She's our target. And before you ask, no she isn't a host." For what?
"Then why?"
"Supposedly, despite her parent's, mainly her father's, best efforts, the girl won't die. She bleeds and bleeds, and cries like she should, but she won't die. She won't even black out."
"That must've piqued Leader-sama's interests." By now, they have passed my hidden door. So my parents were murdered and someone wants me because I'm supposedly immortal? Bullshit! "Hey Danna un. Come check this out." The voices grew closer. Damn.
"What, brat? It had better not be another sculpture."
"Nope, door un. Well placed, it's not easily spotted and it blends in with the wall. Think this is it?"
"Possibly. Locks form the outside, too. That's good for keeping someone in." I heard the locks disengage and the door opened silently. There stood the two people who were talking earlier. A blonde, about my height, and a redhead, a tad bit shorter, both wearing black cloaks with red clouds. They regarded me with interest.
The blonde smirked. "Well, looks like we found our target un."
Who are the two murderers, and what do they want?
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