Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
I would also like to thank and give credit to the Original Creator of The Cartoon Summoner; Xero Tenshi. Thank you for allowing to adopt your work and allowing me to rewrite it, I really enjoyed reading the Original Version. I hope that everyone who reads my version enjoys reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it out.
"Where is that demon?"
A whisper. But he can hear it through the silence and snores of the other children (but he sleeps alone in the orphanage, because none of the other children will stay near him at night, the grown-ups don't allow it as if he might contaminate them).
"How the f—should I know?" Another voice, but the same disgusted tone. "There're a million brats in here."
"Just keep looking. That monster is impossible to miss." Grumbling, but the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor. They are searching the beds, looking for someone, something for which they bear no good intentions.
The boy listens, frozen on his futon. He cannot move though he knows it is him they seek. It is fear, or despair, keeping him still. They still haven't found him in his small corner of the room, unable to catch sight of his curled body through the darkness of the night.
"Are you sure about this?" the third voice pipes up with a nervous tremor.
"Yes. We have to do it tonight, when the Lord Hokage is away on a diplomatic mission." the first voice answers harshly. "We're doing the village a favor by getting rid of this monster."
A shiver goes through the boy's body; he has learned by now to recognize the voice of those who would do him harm with more than just words.
A rustling movement above him, "Hey, I think I found it!"
Fearful blue eyes look up into the scarred face of a hardened shinobi, filled with surprise that cannot hide the contempt. A headband, hitaete, glints slightly in the dim light from the window. The shinobi's eyes meet his, and the boy feels a thrill of fear down his spine.
Those dark eyes scare him because they are full of malice and madness, triumph and desire to hurt. The eyes dip into a frown upon meeting his. He opens his mouth and a whimper, some inarticulate sound of fear escapes.
The shinobi scowls, "Shit, he's awake."
He cannot make a sound, and he clutches the teddy bear tighter, as if it could save him, wake him from this nightmare.
"Do something to fix that then!"
The first voice returns in a panicked whisper, and he feels rough hands on him, something covering his mouth and nose, a feeling that he should shout, make a sound, or something, anything.
Instead, the darkness creeps back as he blacks out into oblivion once more.
He is running, aching, fleeing.
The branches grab at him, the roots trip his feet, and the darkness tries to steal his soul, but he runs from it all, dodging the scratching boughs, stumbling but never falling.
Behind him, their voices are harsh, angry, full of bloodlust. His head aches where he thinks he hit it on a rock when they threw him down, and his chest aches where he knows they kicked him and his heart aches because he realizes that they will kill him if they get the chance.
But there is a voice in his ears, no in his mind, which guides him because it does not want him to die. It is like the voice of a demon, but he listens because he wants to live, stubbornly, like the sapling on the bare face of a cliff, hanging on by a mere inch but reveling in the life because it is so close to death.
He runs and runs because he doesn't want to die; despite the fear and the hatred, he still clings onto a miniscule hope, that someday he can prove himself to everyone, and maybe they won't hate him anymore.
Miraculously, their voices dim, their footsteps fade, until they are inseparable from the surrounding noise of the forest. He is utterly alone, but safe, at least, from shadows deeper than the darkness surrounding him.
His foot lands in cold water with a splash. It is a small creek, low and winding. When his foot slips on a mossy rock, and he plunges headfirst into the water, he is too tired to get back up. The water is cold, and biting, but it numbs the cuts and bruises.
Lying there in the shallow water, he stares with half-open eyes at his outstretched hand, which is bruised and sore like the rest of his body, wondering why they all hate him. Something in him breaks silently, and a warm and wet tears flow from his eyes and into the water, becoming a part of the stream.
Run, monster. There's no one here to help you.
There is something that bumps against his other hand in the water, instinctively grabbing it he pulls it out a white scroll in his hand—, sopping wet and with strange squiggles on it. The writing glowed for a few seconds, His blue eyes widen in surprise as it starts to pulse warmly in his hand.
He pulls the scroll close to him hugging it close to his chest, For a brief moment he wonder if the warm feeling of was the scroll was the same as a hug. Getting up he moved deeper into the forest, Seeing a tree with a hole in it just big enough to lay in. Naruto crawls in hugging the scroll to his chest, He soon falls asleep to the soft pulsing warm scroll.
I hope everyone enjoyed the prologue so far. I know it pretty different from the original so far but I promise, The toon summons will definitely be making appear next chapter. If you guys, have any cartoons you'd like to see make appear let me know in the reviews. Till next time Alekanekalia,