Hi, this was my first attempt at writing a fic and it is not a story I plan to continue at the moment, but I throat that I'd publish it so that it could be appreciated and I could get some feedback on my writing still whill I get a good amount of chaps on my 'real' storys done. I might turn it into a story in the further or pull it into a story I'm currently writing but please don't presser me to turn it into one or offer adopting it if you like it, I plan to keep this for further work and I am just posting it to get reader reactions.

Disclaimer:

All (original or adapted) character's, plots, canon etc belong to the holder/s of the copyrighted material in question; anything I've solely created is my own (E.g. OC's, new storey arks, etc). I do this only for fun and a chance to improve my writing skills; I do not make any form of profit from this and I do not claim any copyrighted material as my own. If it so happens that this work is used by another in illegal activate, then it is without my consent or knowledge and is therefore noting to do with me.

Well that's about it, enjoy the story

It is three am in the morning; the ethereal light of a full moon was weaving its way through the darkness, cleaving a path of glimmering mist to brace the raging shadows that dominated this land.

Everything in this forest was made by nature's hands... well, maybe not everything. There is a place seeped in shadows, where ancient timbers groan with memories and the masonry stands strong; slowly weeping its limestone tears as the malevolent hand of time melts away their former glory. In this decaying hollow lurks a fastness, whose solid walls hide an enigma of sinful knowledge, that all enlightened beings fear.

This is the palace of the serpent kings; as old as life itself, it lies cradled in a nest of twigs and roots, twisted into malevolent forms to guard it from obtrusive eyes. Amid the archaic oak darkened through age and gray, moss-enrobed stone, eldritch carvings of snakes and statues of serpents stand sentinel; they look alive!

Now, if you were ever to clamber over this path of frenzied roots and dusty earth, then you would observe an ornate door, with its circular crest and elegant handle. This crest was called Ouroboros, the symbol for eternity; the snake that bites its own tail.

Now inside these haunted walls we see the tattered moonlight spill onto a voluptuously carpeted floor, illuminating this room with silvery shadows. The area was large and spacious, fitted with elegant ebony furniture; the dark greens and blacks were radiant to the eye and the murky, stagnant air caressed the body and skewed the mind. The bed is clad with heavy satin sheets and a furious fire rages in the background, saturating the air with its stifling fumes and casting bright shadows across the room, turning ebon to crimson and silver to gold.

The sultry air is, tonight, cut with heavy panting and cries of pain; a young and beautiful figure lies upon the bed whimpering, thrashing around and sweating profusely. Trembling she weakly muttered the words "N-N-No... don't!" to a seamlessly mirthless man hidden in the shadows. His long, black, greasy hair lies lank and heavy on his shoulders, and a cruel smirk creeps its way along his whey, lifeless countenance. "Now, now my sweet, it will soon all be over" he sneered in his cold-blooded voice, he slowly raised to his feet, then, licking his thin, calloused lips with a long and slimy tongue, his lanky form slithered across the luxuriously carpeted floor.

Through the cushioning darkness this figure gradually emerged into her vision, his feature's deepened from shadows cast by the flickering fire light whilst his cold, reptilian eyes skimming the bed lustfully; she shivered. He approached quietly, carefully and stealthily whilst flexing his gnarly fingers in anticipation. A soft pitiless laugh elapsed from his calloused lips; towards her timid eyes. "W-W-What are Y-You D-D-Doing?"

Thirteen and a half years later a twenty seven year old woman shot bolt upright in her bed, a cold sweat covering her skin; a silent scream of terrified pain reverberating from her timid lips. She gasped, cried, shook and eventually did nothing but stared hopelessly at the dull footboard of her bed. "The bastard" she softly whispered in soundless words; squeezing the last tears from her eyes.

With this she sprung from her bed, landing silently on the floor. Enveloped by her cloak-like duvet she surreptitiously strode to her window muttering curses for her most hated vendetta; she would one day reimburse him for his 'most thoughtful gift'. The thing that annoyed her most though was she could scarcely remember anything from her dream. She could remember the room, the forest outside, the all-consuming pain and 'that man' of course, but alas none of the details of what he did to her; but then again did she truly want to remember?! She did not know.

With a sigh she stared at that vile village once again, it truly was a beautiful place at night. The haunting light of the full moon lit the streets mysteriously and gave the stonework a silvery glow and the wood an dark black hubris, all the windows reflected the navy blue sky and all else was dark and... Lonely.

Yes lonely, it reminded her of how she felt; lonely and without comfort.

Her only real 'friends' were a woman she rarely saw, a couple of men who had little time for her and in the past, a dearly departed who always use to talk to her, and respect her but thanks to That Basted he was gone.

As for romance it offered her only damned promises and betrayal, besides that she had little trust in most men since him, and although she was a temptress and a tease, any man who though that a little flirting allowed a little groping (or more) would quickly learnt his lesson from a kunai up the… ahem. Sighing she got ready for a busy day, little did she know it would change her life