Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, but I do own my two OCs and the plot of this story.
Please read: Hello everyone! I decided to rewrite this story and make it almost completely different. I felt that the first few chapters were absolutely appalling, and, before I knew it, I was rewriting the entire plot. I enhanced the character depth and added plot-related detail to the original story. I feel like this version is much more organized and respectable. I hope that you lovely readers think so, too :) Due to the plot and character changes, I will be updating each of the original chapters to fit what I have laid out.
Please be sure to review! I'd love to have some feedback and motivation to write more. I've been slaving over this story for a few months, revising like mad, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thank you! And a very big thank you to those who have bared with me from the beginning of this story!
WARNING: Sex, non-consent, violence, and dark themes.
Say you want to stay, you want me too,
Say you'll never die, you'll always haunt me,
I want to know, I belong to you,
Say you'll haunt me.
Together, together, we'll be together, together forever,
I belong to you.
Chapter One: Say You'll Haunt Me
"Ready or not, here I come."
The soft whisper rang like music through their ears, sending a cool autumn-like chill across their sweaty skin. The voice was eerie, mischievous, and playful, as if it belonged to a small child.
But had it belonged to a young child in need of a friend, they would not have been huddled away in their hiding spot. Their house would not be in shambles, nor would either of them be injured. Alas, had it been the voice of a harmless little boy, Seven would have burst from her hiding place and hugged him. Instead, she sat in silence. Instead, she gripped her brother's hand desperately, fearing for their lives.
The sweet, beckoning voice was not as it seemed; they already knew this.
The pair were huddled for warmth in the cool darkness of a closet. They were cold and terrified, unsure of what their fate held. Flare pulled his hand to his mouth and shook his head. Tears were spilling from his wide blue eyes. He forced himself to hold back the whimpers that so desperately wanted to emerge. Seven gripped his hand tighter and looked away. Salty tears were also sliding down her rosy cheeks, but she did not want her little brother to see them. She was the sibling who kept him from falling apart. She was the sibling who was always calm and collected in dreadful situations. During their parents' funeral, she had waited until she was alone to cry. Flare had been the one sobbing during the burial, wishing death upon their parents' murderers.
A soft sniffle came from Flare's direction and Seven gave his hand a light squeeze. They could not afford to give themselves away. She found herself wishing that they were playing a silly game of hide-and-seek, without the threat of death looming over them.
Wiping her eyes, Seven leaned forward to inspect the room beyond the closet. Though a closet was an obvious hiding spot, it was still a hiding spot. 'Maybe that headshot I gave him will render him stupid,' she thought, and almost laughed. There was nowhere to escape. He would come for them and he would find them. Once he found them, he would kill them. Seven heard Flare gulp; he was thinking the same thing.
The closet was dark and uninviting. There were boxes behind them, and clothes on countless hangers. They had decided to sheath themselves behind the clothes if they saw their predator lurking close by. They knew that it was not the best plan – running away would have been their best plan – but they could do no better. There was a slim chance that their attacker might look in the closet only briefly, and neglect to look behind the dangling clothing; their lives rode on that slim chance.
Seven winced as she felt more blood trickle down her arm. Thinking back made her want to vomit. Her vision was still shaky from their previous battle. She needed medical attention; they both did. Surprisingly enough, bleeding out was not their worst problem. The killer downstairs, lurking from room to room in their house, was their worst problem. Worst of all, they lived in a small, simple house away from nosy neighbours.
Their lethal game of hide-and-seek was set up so that only the seeker would win – the hiders would be slaughtered.
Seven looked at her brother's upper arm and grimaced; he had received the nastiest wound. The cut stretchede from his shoulder down to his elbow, and it was threateningly deep. A butcher's knife had done that to him. She knew it could have been worse for him, had he not dodged the hammer making a beeline for his neck. He had escaped the attack with a shattered shoulder blade and index finger – small prices to pay.
The reckless stranger had attacked them with pure vigour, as if he had something great to gain from their deaths.
He had knocked on their door softly. She recalled Flare complaining about late night visitors being annoying, as he rushed to open the door. Instead of a friendly welcome, the stranger took out his large triple-bladed scythe and threatened them. He wanted them to die for a 'glorious purpose'. He wanted to feel their pain as they died a slow death.
Within mere minutes, Flare had miraculously managed to get the weapon from his hands and fling it across their lawn. He had thought that the stranger would chase after his precious weapon. Instead, he threw Flare across the living room and went straight for Seven. Tackling the confused girl to the ground, he laid on top of her for several seconds, whispering horrible things into her ear.
Finding her strength from her fear, Seven managed to use one of her hands to tip the nearby coffee table onto his back. The distraction had proved to be useful, as the man was momentarily incapacitated while she scrambled away from him. They both got to their feet and Seven tried to run for the kitchen. Grabbing her long, brown hair, the stranger had spun her around and backhanded her. The force of the slap had been strong enough to ground her once again.
Fortunately, Flare had gathered his bearings by them. He body-slammed the man into the wall. She had to admit that her fifteen year old brother had really started to bulk-up from his ninja training.
The stranger became dazed and stayed on the ground for a several moments before he growled at them. The siblings ran into the kitchen and grabbed whatever weapons they could find. Seven wielded two sharp knives and Flare had chosen a knife and a steel meat hammer. The trouble really began when the man wrestled the cutlery from the boy's hands.
He had knocked Flare to the ground in a matter of seconds and stood over him with a smug smirk. He drew the hammer up and intended for it to collapse onto his neck, but it never connected. Flare had been too fast for the blow. Instead, the hammer had shattered his shoulder. While he screamed in agony, the man laughed. He brought the hammer down on his finger, adding to the young boy's pain.
At that point, Seven sprang into action and stabbed her knife into the stranger's upper arm. Instead of pain, the man seemed to cherish the feeling for a moment before slapping her to the ground once more. At that point, Seven was confused as to why he was not making any moves to seriously injure her. He removed the knife from his arm and shot it toward the disoriented woman, striking her in the same place she had struck him and ending her confusion. She cried in pain as she felt the metal rip through her flesh. At the same time, the stranger had crawled atop Flare and carved a butcher's knife through his upper arm. His screams shook their entire house, as well as his older sister's heart.
Dislodging the knife from her shoulder, she jumped on the man's back and toppled him to the ground with her, using her weapon to rip and slash at his chest. He laughed sadistically at her petty attempt to harm him, and quickly shoved her away. Grabbing the hammer yet again, he began to bring it down on her spine. Had Flare not been quick enough, Seven might have ended up paralysed.
The battle continued for about half an hour before Seven ended it; she grabbed the metal meat hammer and smacked the man in the head. Blood gushed from the wound and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
The pair stood still for a long time, wondering if they had killed him. Only Flare had been trained in ninja arts. The most Seven knew was basic self-defence and special techniques that their parents had left behind.
Their chances of winning had been almost non-existent.
The only reason they had survived had been due to their quick thinking and smart movements. They had never wanted to kill. They had never expected to kill.
Seven had flinched as she noticed the man's shallow, laboured breaths.
He was not dead. They had failed killed him.
Flare shot her a terrified glance and shook his head in defeat. They were trapped. They could not call for help; the nearest house was a twenty minute walk. Flare's leg had been badly injured during the fight, and Seven's ankle ached like it had been broken. Walking – or crawling – was out of the question. Hiding and praying for the man to bleed out was their only option. Though somehow, Seven knew that the man would never die; even if they had tried to kill him right there, on their kitchen floor, he would not have died. She had seen the necklace wrapped securely around his neck. She was sure that she had seen the symbol somewhere, and she knew it was connected to the fact that their predator would never perish.
Seven took her brother under his good arm and led him to the couch in the living room. She jumped when she heard the man moan behind them; it would not be long before he was up and ready for another fight.
Towels were wrapped around the siblings' wounds; they did not want to bleed out or leave a blood trail that the stranger could follow. They closed several doors in the house and went over several plans in their heads before deciding on hiding in their parents' room. They usually kept out of the room – too many memories – but both of them had decided that dying in a safe, familiar setting was what they both desired. If they were going to die, they wanted to die while engulfed in the sweet aroma that their parents had left behind.
Huddling together was how they bonded until they heard faint movements from the lower floor of the house. The stranger's whisper carried itself up the stairs and to their ears,
"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."
Now, there they were, cowering in fear of a madman.
Horror was splattered across their faces like a gothic painting. Their breathing was fast and their eyes were watchful. It was not long before they heard a harsh bang against the bedroom door. Acting as quickly as they could, they sheltered themselves behind the countless dangling clothes. Seven wanted to believe that he would walk right by them, that he would be too dazed and disorganised to realize where they were. A voice in her head told her that she was a fool. The voice told her that he was not human. The voice warned her that there was some evil, merciless power he was using to locate them.
They heard his scythe barrel through the wood panelling of the bedroom door, and began to shake with expectation. Flare cursed under his breath and let a few more tears slide down his cheeks. Seven clutched her little brother's hand tightly and pursed her lips. She knew that they were in a tight spot. She knew that they should have tried to escape, regardless of their wounds. The most reckless part of her mind told her that it was not too late for her to leap out of the open window and gallop to safety. The most rational part of her mind told her to stay put and pray for a quick death.
They had fought well, but in the end they would be murdered – just like their parents.
The door was broken down in no time. Seven found herself thinking the most absurd thought as she heard the door tumble against the carpet. 'Why didn't you just turn the doorknob?!'
The murderer marched toward the middle of the room. They heard him tossing the bedsheets around. They heard him search every inch of the room except for the closet. Glass was shattered, furniture was ruined, and the carpet was splattered with his blood; he was so close to finding them.
During their last moment of solitude, Seven looked at her brother and mouthed sweet words to him. Flare's eye mixed with her own and he wrapped a weak arm around his sister, 'I love you too,' he mouthed back.
The stranger moved closer to where they were, tearing open the closet door with his scythe. Seven watched as more light flooded into their safe haven. She watched as Flare closed his eyes. She watched as greedy hands tore away the clothes that kept them hidden. Then, all she saw was the man's disgustingly handsome face leering down at them. His scythe glistened with fresh blood and his lavender eyes were sparkling with hatred. He was wearing a torn Akatsuki cloak.
"Found you."
His whisper was soft and dreadful, and his laugh was even worse. It was cruel and shrill, as if he found no better joy than killing two innocent villagers. He stood there and laughed at them for quite some time. Seven almost thought she could sneak past him… Almost.
His mouth finally closed and his awful eyes locked with hers. He paid little attention to Flare, to which Seven was somewhat grateful. She kept her eyes locked with his, as he leaned a crimson red hand down to her injured arm and squeezed it, yanking her toward him. She screamed even louder than when he had first given her the wound. Her scream stemmed from both fear and agony; it made him laugh again.
With his scythe in one hand, Seven expected him to slice through her without much thought. Much to her chagrin, he decided to take a good look at her. All of her.
He took in the shape of her long legs and matured hips. His eyes lingered on the curve of her backside before moving on to her curvaceous waist. His eyes took in the size of her breasts and she wanted to look away. Since she had been heading to sleep around the time he had intruded, she was not wearing a bra. Her nipples peaked over her tank top ever so slightly, making him grin with delight. He whispered something sexual to her, but she did not hear it. She was too dizzy, too close to passing out. She felt her body begin to sway and her injured ankle begin to ache. The stranger seemed to sense it too, for he tossed her behind him before she could nod off.
"Wh-Why are you…" Flare whimpered as the man moved closer, "…Why? We aren't even… Enemies… I've never… never met you…" The man plucked him from his hiding spot and wrapped a bloody hand around his windpipe. Without squeezing, he staring into the younger boy's eyes,
"Because He told me to."
Seven struggled to pick herself up. Exhaustion washed over her like a wave of desert heat. She barely heard Flare calling to her. She barely heard the sound of metal intruding flesh. She only noticed what had happened when Flare's face appeared beside hers, his bright blue eyes fading to a dull grey.
His mouth hung open and blood poured from his lips. There was a dark red hole at the top of his throat, shallow enough to allow him some air, but deep enough to kill him. It took Seven a moment to process what she was viewing. The less-than-sane part of her mind told her that she was dreaming, but she knew otherwise.
She flung herself up and away from her brother's body, crawling back until her wounds screamed and her ankle gave out. She was unsure of what hurt more: her heart or the rest of her body. "Oh gods…" She whispered. "Oh Flare… Oh gods…"
The predator watched as she took in what had been done to her brother. He walked to where she was sitting and pulled her up by her neck, "Not 'gods'," he hissed, "only Jashin." Seven's eyes widened as she recognized the name.
Countless stories had wafted around her small village about the horrible deity called Jashin. She had heard from the village elders that a Jashinist temple was within her village's radius; she wondered if that was where their predator had come from. Before she could even think to ask, she found her gaze wandering to her brother's love lovelorn body.
The Jashinist watched as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. He truly cherished her expression. His favourite part of killing families was when the last surviving member gazed upon their loved ones' bodies. He smirked and closed his hand around her throat. Her eyes jerked toward his. She found herself struggling to pass oxygen to her lungs, and gaped. He was going to kill her. She would join Flare on the ground, still alive and bleeding out, as he took in their emotions and watched them die. Her feet kicked at his legs and lower area, and her fingers clawed at his hand. He was too strong for her; she had known this all along.
The Akatsuki brought her face closer to his and closed the space between their lips. Seven gasped as his tongue slithered into her mouth and explored, nipping at her tongue hard enough to draw blood. Seven attempted to bite his invasive muscle, determined to die with dignity. She felt her air running out and knew that her bites were uncoordinated and clumsy. She could barely focus on him now; all she could think of was Flare and his expressionless eyes, his slow, sharp breathing, and the crimson hole through his throat.
The man pulled away from her bruised and bloody mouth, taking in how great she looked after his attack. He smirked as she began to close her eyes, "don't worry, we're not done yet," he growled darkly.
Before she could completely lose consciousness, he tossed her onto the messy bed. Seven fumbled with the sheets as her body sprung about the mattress, all while taking enormous gulps of air. Her neck hurt and her lungs burned, but she thanked the high heavens that she was still alive. 'Though, maybe not for long,' she thought grimly, her eyes wandering to Flare's body, yet again. A pool of thick crimson blood had gathered around his head. His stomach was rising and falling slowly. He was still alive. Seven clawed herself to the very bottom of the bed and let herself fall from the edge, dragging a thin bedsheet along with her. She lifted her head to search for their attacker, certain he would do everything in his power to stop her from doing what she had to do.
She jumped when she heard him talking to himself in the hallway, just outside the bedroom door. When had he left the room? Who was he talking to? He appeared to be having a lengthy conversation with someone, yet she could sense no one else's presence.
Shaking the curiosity from her clouded mind, she pulled the bedsheet to her brother's neck and pushed him onto his back. He flinched only slightly when she pressed the sheet against his wound. Rising above him, she almost screamed when she felt her body groan in protest. Taking a few seconds to compose herself, she listened to the crazed man speaking to himself in the hallway. She prayed he would not find her like she was. He liked watching her suffer. If he saw her cradling her fading brother, he might simply kill the boy before her very eyes. It would be a quick death for Flare, but Seven knew that she would never forgive herself; she would damn herself to Hell seven times over if she had to watch him die.
She had to move quickly.
Seven ignored the pain that coursed through her body, and brought her mouth to her brother's bloody lips. Lowering his jaw ever so slightly, she pressed her lips against his, passing air to his dying lungs. She was unsure if her method would work; the hole in his throat was large and left little room for air circulation. What he truly needed was a doctor. What he truly needed was to be out of their house and into the nearest hospital. His chance of survival was perilously slim.
She heard the mumbling in the hallway stop and felt her blood run cold. The little hope that she had toward resuscitating her brother was drained, and the power surge she had felt after being tossed onto the bed had diminished. Seven ceased her movements and watched the door. It was not long before two sandal-garbed feet strolled into her view.
The intruder stood there staring at her, his ice cold lavender eyes traced her body with immense lust. His tongue shot out of his mouth and trailed across his lips. Seven gulped.
They stared at each other for what felt like aeons. She took in his horribly handsome face as he took in her finely sculpted body. As if sizing each other up, neither wanted to be the first to look away. Seven felt a strange sort of fear waft through her. It did not feel like her end was near; it felt like her end was just beginning.
"Shit…" came his sinister whisper, "…is he still alive?" He stared down at her brother intently; this had been her biggest fear.
He watched her eyes change from calm, to nervous, to terrified. He knew what she was afraid of the most. He chuckled as if he had said something humorous, still glowering at Seven, "Seriously, what a pathetic piece of shit."
He took a step closer to the pair and made to grab Flare. In a flash, Seven threw herself over her brother's body. Waves of pain coursed through her as she felt one of her wounds start to bleed again. When the intruder's hand finally reached her body, she dug her nails into her brother's skin and held on for dear life. She felt his stomach rising and falling quickly, drawing in shallow breaths, as if he was inhaling a thick poison.
The Akatsuki member yanked her to her knees by her hair and tossed her aside. He turned to face her for a moment, a knowing smirk on his lips. "Wait your turn, woman," he whispered, laughing cruelly as she scrambled to reach her brother.
"Wait!" She panted, crawling across the carpet, "Yo-You don't want to kill him!" Her words made the man hesitate for an instant, giving Seven the chance to rope her arms around one of his legs, "I'm serious," she said, feigning calmness, "you don't want to kill him."
He gazed down at her with a look of wonder in his brilliant lavender eyes. Seven knew that her choice of words had piqued his curiosity. He crouched down to get a better look at her face. Seven quickly released his leg, for fear that he would be put off balance and fall on top of her; she would not be much use to Flare if she was flattened. The stranger rubbed his chin, as if in deep thought. "I don't want to kill him…?" he contemplated. Seven tried not to look at him.
He shook the girl roughly from his leg and grabbed her by the hair. Seven gritted her teeth as she was yanked to her knees. How many times had he grabbed her by her hair? How many precious strands had he ripped out of her aching scalp?
She averted her nervous eyes from his piercing ones. She knew that if she looked him in the eye, her resolve would crumble like a long, forgotten ruin. He shook her to seize her attention, and spoke bitterly, "Why don't I want to kill him, huh? Do I look like an idiot?! I came here to sacrifice both of you! Never in my fucking life have I spared a sacrifice. Lord Jashin would smite me if I let either of you live." Spit flew into her face from the intensity of his words. She had made him angry.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she geared her eyes toward his mouth and responded steadily, "No, I don't think you're stupid. In fact, I think you're quite intelligent." This was a lie, of course. She had a feeling that he was stronger rather than smarter, "to have searched us out and defeated us… I'm not particularly strong, but my brother has been said to have the battle strength of a well-trained chunin."
Both their eyes wandered to where Flare was. More blood had spread around his body. Seven knew that her time was running out.
The man laughed heartily at her choice of words. It pleased him that she thought he was intelligent; most of his comrades took every chance they could to insult his problem-solving skills. He licked his lips and fixed his eyes on her swollen chest. She was even more delicious now that she had acknowledged how strong he was, "Keep talking, woman," he muttered, "Keep talking before I decide to take you right here."
Seven felt her mouth run dry. Had she aroused him simply by stroking his ego? She paused before continuing her persuasion, "Even though I know you're strong, I think sparing my brother would be best for both of us… more so for you." The man raised a brow at her words, appearing almost upset that she had insinuated he might have a weakness. She nodded to reiterate her point, "If you kill him, they will all come for you. They will be here in mere seconds. They will be here before you can sense their chakra."
With that, the Akatsuki member threw her across the room, casting her further away from Flare. How many times had he thrown her away like garbage? How many more times would he throw her away like garbage? Seven's eyes widened as she hit the floor, her wounds screaming for mercy. In a flash, the man was on top of her, peeling off her tank top and pulling down her shorts. The poor girls' eyes darted back and forth between her brother and the vile man atop her. There was a cruel, animalistic glint in his eyes, one that she was all too familiar with.
He wanted her and he was going to take her. It did not matter if she wanted him to stop. It did not matter that she had been trying to speak. She was still a woman and he was still a man; nothing else mattered.
Seven struggled to push him away from her, but he would not budge. She flailed her arms hard enough to smack him in the face a few times, but he kept going. Soon, she was down to nothing but her underwear. He snickered at the look of mortification on her face as she wriggled violently beneath him. "You took too long, woman," he said, biting down hard on her neck to halt her fit, "I told you to keep talking, didn't I? Fuck, you turn me on… the way you talk about my power over you… You know I can do whatever I want to your body."
He cut away her panties and released his manhood from his trousers. She saw how hard he was for her. She saw and she panicked. His moods were so unbelievably impulsive and sporadic. One minute she had been successfully persuading him, and the next he was violating her. He was a power hog; he enjoyed when women admitted that they were weaker than him. He liked being thought of as almighty and undefeatable. Perhaps that was why he had stopped her from talking; she had been speaking of his defeat. Getting defeated did not arouse him, and it certainly did not rub his oversized ego.
"You fucking asshole…" She snarled, trying to shake him away from her neck. One of his hands grabbed her bare breast and squeezed it violently, making her yelp. He dug his nails into her nipple and twisted it to make her cry out. The gesture only proved to make her womanhood pulse with want, but she quickly shut her lustful thoughts down. She would not give into the insane Jashinist. She wanted anything but sex from him.
He rose his mouth from her neck and hovered over her lips, using his hands to prop himself above her, "it's Hidan," he stated solely, "Hidan of the Akatsuki. Not 'fucking asshole'." He winked at her and continued to assault her neck.
Seven's mind was racing like a wild horse. She no longer cared who he was or what organization he belonged to. All she cared about was getting him off. She felt him rub the tip of himself against her entrance and bit back angry tears.
He was going to rape her.
She had to think of something.
She had to think of something.
She had to think of something.
In a fit of pure, mindless desperation, she shouted, "They're here!" He geared the tip of his penis into her womanhood. Seven felt him start to fill her aching, defiled pussy. When he was almost halfway inside of her, she tried again herself, "They're here, and they're coming for you!"
He stopped almost reluctantly, searching her face for a shred of deceit, "What the hell are you saying?" She resisted the urge to laugh hysterically at her luck. She had managed to make him stop when he was so close to taking her.
She took a deep breath, "A special force from Konoha…" she whispered, "They're able to track down Flare, wherever he might be. They can sense when he is in danger… or when he is dying. They have been training him for months. They think he's a prodigy. They placed a chakra tracking device into his blood."
Hidan's deadly lavender eyes widened in panic. He did not move. He did not say a word. He only looked at her, eyes filled with contempt. He did not believe that she was lying.
It was a complete bluff. Konoha had sent a Jonin to help train a few aspiring students in their small village. Upon their success, they would serve as ninja in Konoha. Flare had been the best student, learning things as quickly as they were taught. Though they cared deeply for his achievement, there was no tracking device on him.
But the pure possibility that she could be telling the truth had stopped him.
Now was her chance to turn the tables.
Finding the strength to ignore her pain and frailty, she slammed her elbow into his inner elbow as hard as she could, making his upper body buckle. Having the advantage, she latched her arm onto his back and rose her leg to the backs of his knees. Even when her ankle and shoulder screeched for her to stop, she went on. When she was in the correct position, she pushed against him as hard as she could. Hidan flailed as she shoved him to his side and slipped her body from his grasp.
He had not expected her to know anything about taijutsu. Where had she learned that? He snarled as she got to her feet as quickly as she could and limped toward the door. Once again, his eyes widened. He had expected her to run for her dear dying little brother. Was she actually abandoning him?
"FUCK!" He shrieked, his voice loud enough to quake the entire house. She had made him out to be a fool, but he would show her; she would not escape the house alive.
He hopped to his feet and chased after her, pausing to look at the brother she had left behind, "I'll be back for you," he murmured, "If you don't die before I get back. I'm going to take my time with that little whore…" As the crazed Jashinist fled from the room, Flare lolled his near-dead eyes toward the door.
There was no one left.
He was all alone.
Carefully, he lifted his arm and dipped two of his fingers in his own blood. On the ground above his head, he stretched to scrape his bloody fingers against a dry part of the carpet. He knew that the chance of him surviving was slim. He knew that Seven was trying to buy him time so that he could perform their parents' healing technique. He resisted the urge to smirk; she was always looking out for him.
When Seven had first come across the technique in one of their mothers' old books, Flare had scoffed. He had said that it would never work; it was old and unfinished. He had claimed that the greatest healer in their land was the legendary Sanin, Tsunade. Their parents could not have possibly surpassed a Sanin.
Seven had tried it on his leg when it was sliced open during training. The gash had been huge and he had lost a great amount of blood. It had taken about ten minutes, but once the symbol was drawn and the healing light had faded, nothing remained of his gash. There was no scar and no pain, no severed nerves or tendons. Her parents had discovered something amazing, something that not even the great healers of Konoha knew.
By using only a small amount of chakra, one could draw a small healing circle nearby. The healing circle acted like an alchemic circle. It would take some of the user's chakra in exchange for the mending of a specific wound. As if it had a mind of its own, the power would envelope the injured person's body and find the worst wound. From there, the person's body would be healed so well, that not even an ugly scar would remain. This had been what their parents were researching when they were murdered; this had been the bane of their life's work.
But would the technique work on his neck wound?
Flare was unsure. He was only receiving a quarter of the air he usually inhaled, and he would lose even more as time went by. Soon, he would be dead. He would leave his dear older sister behind to fend for herself. The man – Hidan – would rape and murder her for his sick God. But if he was able-bodied enough to retrieve the Jonin from the village…
He had to try.
He drew the symbol and felt his warm chakra envelope him. The technique took a few moments to pin-point his worst wound, but he forced himself to relax. A sharp pain radiated through his body as his neck wound started to heal, and he had to grind his teeth together to stop himself from screaming.
It had to work.
Seven veered down the stairs and tumbled at the last step; her ankle had decided to finally give out on her. She cursed at her weak, tired body, and cradled her ankle in her hands.
Hidan had been close behind her, slamming into the wall as he swung around the corner and down the stairs. When she tried to get to her knees and crawl toward the exit, he grabbed a wad of her messy brown hair and yanked her back. She stumbled into him and smacked her injured arm into the wall. Howling in pain, the Akatsuki member took the chance to give her a firm kick in the stomach. "Worthless fucking bitch!" He screamed, in a fit of rage.
For the umpteenth time that night, Seven hit the ground hard. She gazed up at her captor, who was panting with sweaty, dishevelled hair, and looked at his wrath-filled eyes. She had managed to escape and buy time for Flare, hoping that he was still conscious enough to perform the healing technique. Now, what would happen to her?
Hidan stalked over to her and kicked her in the stomach again. She toppled across the room and landed closer to the front door. Instead of reeling in pain, she got to her knees and fiddled with the door's lock. If she could escape from the house, she could escape into the forest and hide until she found her strength. She and Flare knew the forest surrounding their house well enough to navigate through it in a hurry; as children, they had played several games of hide-and-seek in the wooded paradise. Ironic, considering their current situation.
She was incredibly surprised when the door flung open in her hands. A rough wind gusted through the treetops, the tell-tale sign of a storm brewing.
Was she going to make it?
Before she could lunge out of the doorway, her body was caught in strong arms. She opened her mouth to scream for help, all other options exhausted, but a firm hand muffled her screams. Hidan slammed the door shut, almost breaking it off its hinges in the process.
He carried her into the living room and tossed her onto the couch. Though she was thoroughly spent, Seven would not let him on top of her again. She moved her feet in front of herself and waited for the chance to push him aside. "Now you're just being fucking stupid," He laughed, tossing her unstable legs to the side. "We both know that I'm strong enough to do what I want to you."
Hidan's fist connected with her upper arm injury a little too fast for her to realize. She looked up at him with shocked, fearful eyes, crying bloody murder. He was difficult to handle. His movements were quick and sporadic; she did not know what he would do next. First, he insisted that he wanted to have sex with her. Then, as if something in his mind had snapped, he wanted to cause her pain. 'What in the hell is wrong with you!?' She wanted to scream. She could not fathom a man who would want to hurt a woman as much as the Jashinist before her did.
As if reading her mind, he grinned, "I think I'll slice you up a bit, at least until you start to look remotely desirable."
Seven pursed her lips and shut her eyes. What good would screaming do? Their house was practically isolated from the rest of the village, and any trained ninja were far from earshot. There was nothing more to do.
She could only sit there and suffer.
Hidan raised his open hand high and prepared to bring it down on her face. His heart was a whirlwind of excitement. For all the trouble this girl had caused him, she deserved to be punished. She had made him out to be a fool, but the tables had turned; she was the fool for underestimating him. She should have been aware that Lord Jashin was always on his side. She should have been aware that she was doomed from the start.
He brought his hand down hard on her face, his foot extending to jab her in the stomach. She gasped as the wind was dragged from her lungs. Her whole body pleaded for him to stop, yet she could not bear to beg. Men like Hidan relished in the sounds of women begging for him to stop; it made him feel powerful, immortal. He would not stop, even if she got to her knees and pleaded. Begging would be a waste of time she no longer had.
A sudden bang was heard from the upper floor of the house. Hidan stopped his assault instantaneously and cast his gaze toward the staircase. It sounded as though someone had fallen. It sounded as though Flare was on his way.
Seven could only hope that her brother had managed to heal himself.
Hidan took a moment to assess what he had just heard. He wondered if it was possible that the boy was alive. He doubted it, especially since part of his throat was destroyed. Still, he could not help but feel…
…Like he should finish the boy for good.
There was something within him, coaxing him to sacrifice him before the girl; as if Lord Jashin was telling him that the boy would prove to be a problem. He cursed himself for being led to this family. They were insistent on surviving and saving each other, and they displayed their vigour with trickery and brute strength. Hidan had killed various skilled ninja in the past. He had taken on members of Konoha's Anbu, arising almost unscathed from the battle. He had even proved to be a difficult victory for his partner, Kakuzu. He was strong, yet he could not handle two teenage civilians; this thought made him absolutely furious.
He moved away from the skittish Seven and turned to wander up the stairs. She knew what he was planning, and she could not allow him to do it. She stumbled off of the couch and fell toward him. Using what little strength she had left to crawl after him, "Wait! No!"
He did not stop. She would not stop him like she had the last time. She had no more tricks. She had no more skills. She had no more strength. Latching onto his leg, she displayed her last bit of resolve.
"Leave him be!" She spat, "Don't!"
"Didn't I tell you? I came here to sacrifice you both, woman." He countered, kicking at her.
"I'll do whatever you want! Really!"
"I'll do what I want with you, anyways!" He cackled cruelly, successfully unlatching her from his leg.
"I can teach you powerful medical incantations and symbols! My parents were the famous Toho duo!" She prayed that he had an interest in healing.
"Don't need any of that shit. I'm immortal. Anything bandages won't fix, Lord Jashin will."
She racked her mind for any other propositions she could make, "How about I give myself to you?" She bit her tongue and grimaced, "willingly, I mean… For as long as you want…"
He laughed at that, turning around to wink at her, "Do you really think it matters to me if you're unwilling?"
"I'll… hmm… Well…" She was running out of options. There were only a few more left, none of them favourable, "…How about…"
At that moment, they heard the sound of a window sliding open.
Flare was alive.
Flare was alive and trying to escape.
Seven wanted to cry, but knew that their battle was not finished yet. She would have time to cry another day, if she escaped alive.
The important thing was that Flare was going to leave the house alive. He would leave and retrieve help. Until he returned, Seven vowed that she would fight to stay alive. A small, silly grin spread itself across her lips. Hope was returning to her shattered mind.
Hidan's eyes were filled with bloodlust. When he caught the boy, he would kill him. And he would catch him; of this, he was sure of. With his injuries, the boy would be lucky to survive mere minutes alone in the forest. He smirked and turned to look at Seven, "He won't get far with his wound..."
Still, his Lord was telling him that he had better kill the boy. There was something about him… Something about this family…
He shook Seven from his leg with ease and raced to the top of the stairs. He would not waste any more time with the woman's pleas. When he was done with the boy, he would ravage her until he was satisfied. Then, he would send her to his God, and she would serve Him how she served all men – with her body.
Seven felt tears roll down her cheeks and moaned in frustration. Her burning desire to protect her dear little brother was strong, but her physical strength rendered her useless. Had she the strength, she would have tackled him down the stairs and held him there.
She only had her words, now, and they were about as cold, heartless, and empty as he was. They had to be.
There was only one thing left for her to say. She could think of nothing else that would appeal to the madman. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her nerves,
"I-I'll… be yours... Forever! For as long as you live!" She cried, the tears making her vision blurry and her cheeks rosy, "I'll do whatever you want, every day of my life… I'll help you worship Jash… Er… Um… Lord Jashin… and do anything you ask of me. Anything. I-I-I'll be at y-your disposal."
She had no idea what she was signing up for.
That made him stop dead in his tracks. Suddenly, any thoughts of killing Flare dissipated, only to be replaced with ones of Seven worshipping him. He imagined her sweet little body under him, squirming as he sliced her up and stuffed her full of his manhood. And had she said that she would help him serve his Lord? Forever? He turned his head to eye her, violet eyes wide with wonder.
He needed to hear her say it again. He could not believe his ears,
"What you just said… Say it again."
Seven gulped, but wasted no time repeating herself, "I said that I'd be yours…" she mumbled, horrified at what she had just promised him, "I'll help you serve your… Um… God… and do whatever you ask… Anything…"
Hidan perked up. He ran over her words in his head and snickered malevolently. Her desire to live and let her little brother escape were so extreme, that she would devote her entire, pitiful life to him.
It was very tempting, and he was the type of man to give into his temptations.
He closed his eyes and called to his almighty deity. He needed some guidance. He did not know what his Lord wanted him to do.
'Lord Jashin,' he thought carefully. He was sure that his Lord had been watching him torture the siblings. After all, it had been Him who told Hidan to break into their house. Though it seemed like a random house with regular villagers within, the immortal knew that his God was as omniscient as he was omnipotent. Perhaps Jashin had planned for this to happen. Perhaps Jashin had known that the girl would do this. A grin began to form on his face, 'Lord Jashin, I need your guidance.'
Seven sat there as the crazed Akatsuki member closed his eyes. She knew that he was considering her proposition. She also knew that Flare had managed to escape due to her distraction. She prayed that he had been able to heal himself enough as to not bleed out. He would get help from the other ninja-in-training and the Jonin instructor. He would gather them and bring them to her. Surely a Jonin would have the strength to take on an S-ranked criminal. 'But he's more than just an Akatsuki member,' she thought morosely, 'he's a Jashinist, too.'
From what she had heard, ninja and villagers alike stayed away from Jashinists. They were far from sane, unpredictable, and more dangerous than any other cult. Most of them could not be killed, yet most of them could kill others. No one knew the mechanics of the religion or its followers. The only thing that everyone knew, was that anything but total eradication was a sin.
Seven felt her breath hitch at that realization. It was against his religion to leave her alive after he had targeted her. It was against his God's will to let her live.
She turned to the front door and slowly made her way toward it. Escaping would be best if he was busy thinking, unaware of her actions. She had no intention of fulfilling her promise to him. When he finally opened his eyes, he would either catch her or find her gone. She was finally starting to realize that there was no way out of this; he was going to kill her if he caught her, no matter what. Her promises meant nothing; only utter destruction meant something to a Jashinist.
"What she says is true," Jashin whispered to Hidan, "the girl will be yours to do with as you please. I have but one condition." Hidan felt his excitement grow. It had been a long time since his God had given him a plaything.
"What is it, my Lord?" he mumbled aloud.
Seven jumped when she heard him speak. She whipped her head around to see him standing on the stairs, eyes closed, with a sick grin on his elegant face. There, in the dimness of the upstairs lamp, he looked like he was insane. He had just spoken to someone who was not present. He had not been speaking to her; he probably did not even realize that she had moved. He was distracted.
He was talking to his God.
"You must not kill her. She must not be killed until I wish for her to be sacrificed," Jashin hissed to his follower, "She is useful to me. She will be useful to you, too. Do not forget this." It was at that moment when Hidan finally understood why he had been sent to the siblings' house. Jashin had known the outcome of his intrusion; He had known what Seven would propose. "Thank you, Lord Jashin!" Hidan exclaimed.
He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall. His thoughts were rapid and uncoordinated. He was eager. He could hardly wait to take her from her home and have his way with her ten times over. He would make her suffer for her sinful existence; he would make her pay.
He spun around to where he had last seen the girl, only to find that she had vanished. She had left behind only a small trail of blood.
The front door rattled faintly against its hinges. Lightning scattered across the sky in the distance; there was a storm coming.