Disclaimer: I own nothing and will not make the pretense that I do. I am not making any profit and it is only done for the enjoyment of others.
I want to see where this will go, if people are interested in this little blurb I can submit more. It's a daydream I've had for awhile and I've been waiting to put it up here.
Without further ado…
Eyes opened slowly, watching silently as bubbles floated upwards. Everything else beyond was a blur. He didn't try to see much, not yet. They would notice. He knew who they were more on instinct, a sixth sense…How long had he been here? He had to keep count; he'd go crazy if he didn't.
Ah, there it was, the cold feeling going into his veins, so they noticed that he was awake. Pity. His body, though he could hardly feel it anyways, relaxed. Back to the bottom of the blackness. He was down there for a long time before once again reaching the surface. Again he was thwarted. He didn't want to go back down, he'd remember things, memories he wanted to forget. There was a presence in that blackness, it was old, ancient and quite unforgiving. He felt it still. He didn't like it and it didn't like him, but one thing they agreed was they needed to get as far away from this place as possible.
"Kabuto, I presume things are going as planned?"
"Yes, exactly as you want them to."
"Good. Make sure our 'guest' is quiet and covered. I wouldn't want my nosy apprentice to wander into something he shouldn't."
"Of course, Orochimaru-sama."
He was there again. The depths of his own mind surrounded him. Sometimes he thought that he could see something, his freedom maybe, he hardly knew. Subconscious thoughts liked to play with them, ironically they were not all his own. They showed him places, people he knew, but with a thought those dreams and wisps of imagination dissolved, they were nothing more than a restless fantasy.
Being trapped in your own body was the worst thing possible, he surmised. In a prison one can see their own bars, they're tangible and you know what you're fighting against. In your own body, you don't know which was is up and reality is up to your imagination.
The passage of time was hard to discern, it was enough to drive him mad. He couldn't concentrate enough to see the time or exact place, so he supposed it really didn't matter at the moment. He had to recouperate first, the battle had been long and bloody. He had been captured, was a prisoner in his own body, and he detested the company.