Lost
When Shikamaru came to, all he could see were shadows. There was no use trying to figure out where he was. He couldn't think, he couldn't remember.
One of the shadows was hovering over him, moving as frantically as a dancing flame.
"N-N-"
"Don't," a voice whispered urgently in his ear, "Try not to talk, just stay with me."
It was fading in an out, becoming distant and then suddenly very close. Bright spots began to erupt in front of Shikamaru's eyes, but they illuminated nothing and gave no hint to his surroundings. Who?
"Stay with me," the voice kept saying. What did it mean?
A violent clattering filled his ears, coming from everywhere at once. All at once, he realized it was his own teeth, but it was impossible to stop. Why?
The shadow was still moving; the voice still speaking, but Shikamaru could no longer make out the words over the chatter that permeated his entire being. He tried to move his hand, but his limbs were leaden.
A resounding slap echoed around him and Shikamaru felt a vague stinging on the side of his face accompanied by a ringing in his ears. A noise escaped his throat somewhere between a whimper and a moan, but he wasn't cognizant enough to be embarrassed by his own weakness. It didn't matter. He was slowly, but surely, drifting away. Everything was beginning to feel warm and hazy, a pleasant and welcome relief from the cold.
Someone was calling his name from a million miles away, perhaps from the gates of Konohagakure. From home. His home.
"Don't go to sleep," the voice groaned, "Just…"
An ominous blackness began tinging the corners of Shikamaru's vision and the voice faded away once more.
The unseen hand cut through the air and slapped him again; this time it really hurt. He tried to yell, but nothing came out.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Suddenly his cheek wasn't the only thing that hurt. Sensation returned in the form of shards of glass piercing his toes and fingers, his arms and legs, then his entire body. He wasn't cold anymore, or numb. Hands (who's hands?) were kneading him and leaving a burning trail of flames wherever they touched skin. Whoever the voice belonged to… they were killing him.
"S-stop," Shikamaru pleaded. His teeth were still chattering and the word came through hoarse and painful, but it came through. The hands' movements ceased for a split second before returning with renewed vigor.
It was impossible to tell how long that torture went on. It seemed it would never end.
But eventually, it did.
And so did everything else.