My name is Christie. My last name honestly doesn't really matter, since nobody ever uses it. But trust me, you're gonna be hearing my first name a lot, mostly being yelled with varying degrees of fury, panic, and/or excitement.
I'm twenty years old, short, and thin, with light brown skin, brown eyes, and dark brown hair (except for the purple streaks, forced upon me by my best friend Amanda, who you'll hear more about later). So a lot of smallness, and a lot of brown.
Since I doubt anyone wants to hear much more about what my life was like before the problems appeared, I'll try to keep the rest of the exposition to a minimum and get straight to it.
I'm in college, along with the aforementioned best friend, Amanda. As the dorm rooms of our school are, frankly, tiny, we decided to, instead, rent an apartment and split the rent.
Now, we can get started. This mess started a little after the beginning of summer vacation. Amanda was off visiting relatives, leaving me to fend for myself until she got back.
The night that the conflict arose, I had been about to prepare dinner when I realized a slight problem: The only food in the house was a half-eaten slice of pizza and a bottle of mustard.
So, I had two options: Eat quite possibly the nastiest dinner possible, or go out late in the evening and walk to the grocery store by myself, with no protection but a bottle of pepper spray and some basic self-defense training – again, "courtesy" of Amanda. I chose the second option. I know, smart, right?
Amazingly, the trip to the store passed without incident. The real trouble began on my trip home, now with a grocery bag in tow.
It was pretty late by that time, and honestly, I was no longer comfortable with being out. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the small bottle of pepper spray, just in case. As you can deduce, I was already on edge when I heard the voice.
"Hello."
Under different circumstances, the word would have seemed friendly. But now, it was late at night. I was out by myself. And I sure as heck didn't recognize this voice.
I had no idea what to do, so I just decided to play it safe and pretend I wasn't both suspicious and scared out of my wits. "Hello," I mumbled back, not sure the first speaker would hear me.
And suddenly he was right behind me and something sharp was pressed against my back. I froze, even holding my breath. Well, this day just took a turn for the suckier, I thought. At the same time, something was bothering me. Hadn't he been farther away before? Nobody was that fast... right?
"Do you know what's going to happen next?" asked Creepo.
I gave a slight shake of my head, barely moving it.
"You are going to tell me where this is, and what you did to bring me here. Understand?"
What is this guy talking about? How would I have a way to "bring him here"? "Y-You're in Allenwood," I whispered. "I don't know how you got here, but-"
Suddenly, the pressure at my back increased. "Don't lie to me," he hissed. "I know it was you; there is no other possibility."
I gulped. Looks like I'm out of options... "Well, apparently..." I gradually began to press down on the button atop the bottle in my hand. Clearly noticing that I was doing something, the man behind me started to tense, expecting an attack – but not this kind: "There IS!" I spun around, pressing the button down, then I ran. Really fast.
From the brief glimpse I got of my attacker, he was not someone I wanted to encounter again. Spiky orange hair, more piercings than I cared to count, some weird black-and-red robe... The guy was probably in a gang or something; I was lucky he seemed to be alone.
But then, behind me, I heard him choke out, "Well, don't just stand there like idiots! Get her!"
Idiots, plural? Crap. This was just getting worse and worse, wasn't it.
Immediately, I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, and standing before me were... huh. Two people who honestly didn't look very threatening: A teenage boy with large, brown eyes, a thoroughly apathetic expression, and fluffy-looking red hair, and a young man (who I thought for a moment was a girl) with long, blonde hair, blue eyes, and possibly eyeliner.
I tensed, unsure of how much effort it would actually take to get around these two – I mean, they didn't exactly look like hardened criminals.
"This one doesn't look too tough, hm," commented the blonde. Then he pulled out a handful of what looked like clay and gave me one of the most smug, self-satisfied, and possibly insane smiles I'd ever seen.
I screamed, sprayed him in the face, and darted around him.
I almost thought I had escaped when I felt hand on my shoulder – an oddly hard, cold hand. I turned my head, shocked to see the teen from earlier, staring at me with icy brown eyes. "Not so fast," he said softly.
I spun around and stumbled backward, holding the bottle that had gotten me this far in front of me. But I could have sworn I got him earlier... The boy made no move to grab me again, which was enough to tell me what I had begun to suspect: I was surrounded.
"Good job, Sasori," said the guy from earlier, still rubbing his eyes as he stepped toward me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the teenager – Sasori – give a slight nod.
The first attacker – apparently the leader of the group – turned to me. "As you can see, you cannot escape. So you would really be better off overall if you just explained what you've done."
"Uh... sure?" I replied, transfixed on his eyes – sort of a purple-gray color, no visible whites, with a series of rings that started at the pupil, almost like a ripple in water – only without, you know, movement.
He didn't seem too pleased about my staring. "What. Did. You. Do." he growled, sticking his face close to mine. I drew back instinctively, glancing around in search of escape routes. Behind me was Sasori. To my right was a tall, sharky-looking man, complete with gills and – although I'm not sure what this had to do with looking like a shark, it sure helped – blue skin. To my left was the only female I'd seen in this group – a beautiful woman with blue hair and bright, golden eyes. And, of course, there were various others scattered around in between them, blocking me off in all directions.
After a few seconds of me looking around and not answering, the leader stepped back with an exaggerated snort. "Kakuzu, make sure she doesn't escape," he commanded to a man behind him.
The man walked up to me, glaring down at me as if the possibility of my attempting to escape were creating a great inconvenience for him. I couldn't help whimpering a bit when I saw his eyes. Far scarier than his leader's, these were bright green, with no pupil, and red where there should have been white. "Turn around," he commanded in a deep, growly voice. I did so, not wanting to know what would happen to me if I didn't obey him.
Then I felt some sort of... I don't know, snake or something, but whatever it was, it was wrapping itself tightly around my wrists, forcing them together. Behind my back, I felt the pepper spray bottle pulled from my hand. Well there goes my primary means of self-defense.
"Sit down," ordered Kakuzu, using one surprisingly strong hand to maneuver me to a spot a few feet away and push me to the ground.
I was turned toward the whole group now – and this was not a small group. There must have been ten people (well, I can't be sure about the "people" part for a few of them), all murmuring to each other, glancing at me every once in awhile.
Before long, a man wearing a bright orange mask – and the only one not wearing one of those weird robes; instead he had a completely black outfit, save for a green scarf, and, of course, the mask – skipped (I swear, he actually skipped) over to me. "Who are you?" he asked cheerfully.
I stared at him, unsure I was actually hearing this. "Uuh... Christie?" I mumbled, not sure what harm my first name could do.
A lot, apparently. "YAY! Christie-san has a very good name!" cheered the man, attempting to hug me.
I did my best to avoid this attempt, hearing the leader's voice calling, "Tobi, stop hugging the enemy." Now there was something I thought I would never hear.
"What's the big deal about this chick, anyway?" questioned one of the weirdos, a man about my age with slicked-back silver hair and his cloak mostly open.
The leader sighed with frustration. "Of course, you'd be too dense to notice it," he grumbled. The silver-head started to object, but seemed to think better of it when the leader shot him a glare. "When we went through the portal," he continued, "Didn't you feel the unusual energy that seemed to surround us?"
"Uh... I guess," the man replied. "But what does that have to do with the girl?"
The leader ran a hand through his orange hair. "What it has to do with her," he said through clenched teeth, "Is that everyone – unless, of course, this is not the case with you – agrees that they get the same feeling from her."
"Seriously? So you think she's the one who brought us here?" asked the silver-haired man, looking as incredulous as I felt. He walked up to me crouching down so that we were at the same eye level. "Doesn't that seem, I dunno, a bit far-fetched?"
As he spoke, he waved one hand at me, which for some reason really pissed me off. Although this may not have been wise, I leaned forward and bit his hand.
"OW! WHAT THE F**K WAS THAT FOR!" he screamed, pulling away and leaping back. He examined his hand, shooting me a sharp glare. "This b***h has issues, but I sure as hell don't see what she could have to do with this."
Finally, I got up the courage to speak. "That's because I don't have anything to do with this!" I insisted. "I have no clue who you are, or what's going on, or-or why you all look like freaks, or what's going on here! I don't-"
"Someone shut her up," growled the leader.
Kakuzu – I was really beginning to get sick of seeing this guy – held out one hand. At which point I saw what was holding my wrists together. A black... thread-tentacle-thing was snaking out of a slit on his wrist. I stared at it, trying to figure out what it was, until I realized that that thing was about to be wrapped around my mouth.
"W-Wait!" I gasped, trying to get my face as far away from the thread as I could. "Don't you have... I dunno, a bandana or something? 'Cuz there is no way that thing is going anywhere near my mouth!"
I guess that, at this point, the leader just wanted me to shut up, because he agreed to use a bandage instead of the weird thread. And so I sat on the ground, bound and gagged, with a bunch of weirdos probably plotting my demise, and I was satisfied because I didn't have a mouthful of probably-slimy black threads. Pretty pathetic, I know.
"I say we kill her," announced the silver-head.
"Of course you do," sighed Kakuzu. "Because that's what you always say. I say we sell her. Or make her work for us for free."
The shark-man laughed. "And you're saying that Hidan always says the same thing," he commented.
"We are not going to kill her or sell her," proclaimed the leader. "At least, not until we figure out what she has to do with all this."
For what I think was the first time since this started, the woman spoke up. "Regardless of what she says, there's a good chance that this is her doing; she may well be deceiving us."
Watching all this, for the first time, I fully realized the situation I was in. I was completely helpless. I was tied up, my only means of self-defense was gone, I couldn't scream for help, and even if I could, even if someone heard me, these people would probably kill me before anyone could do anything.
I struggled against the threads around my wrists for a moment, hoping that maybe, somehow, they would loosen enough for me to free myself. Of course, they didn't. I settled back against the wall of the alleyway, completely out of options. There was a burning, prickling feeling in my nose and eyes, which, as I wasn't really concentrating on it, I didn't identify until the masked man – Tobi – spoke up.
"Uh... is Christie-san crying?"
It felt like a scene from a movie. With those words, every head turned toward me, showing expressions ranging from surprise to irritation to flat-out not-giving-a-crap.
Oh no. No freakin' way. Not here, not now, NO! I squirmed against the wall, trying to will myself to stop crying – which, believe me, is not an easy thing to do. The thing is, I don't actually cry all that much – but when I do, it tends to be at rather inopportune moments.
Then the silver-haired idiot – Hidan – started laughing. I glared at him as threateningly as I could, which wasn't very.
"See, this is what I was saying," he exclaimed. "What kind of shinobi mastermind starts f**king crying out of nowhere?"
One of the more "unusual" members – some guy with green hair, black-and-white skin, and a giant flytrap around his head – apparently thought otherwise. "It could be an act," he suggested. Then, in a different voice for some reason: "Yeah, it's not like nobody can cry on purpose." (Seriously, who makes a practice of agreeing with himself? 'Course, I guess it's not as bad as if he disagreed with himself...)
"I don't think so," replied a man who I somehow hadn't noticed before. Come to think of it, he seemed like the kind of guy who's unnoticeable at first but, once you see him, is impossible to take your eyes off of. He was somehow pretty without looking girly, with long black hair and bright red eyes.
"What would showing weakness get her at this point?" he pointed out. "This might get her killed." Oh God, I hope not, I thought.
The leader thought about it for a moment. "What reason would she have for lying about bringing us here? For that matter, why would she want to? On one hand, that feeling couldn't be mistaken; she has to do with this, somehow. But she may not know it..."
There were so many things I would have said about now if I could. Like, say, Well apparently, no, I don't know. Or I don't know who you are or where you're from, and I don't know why you're here either. Or maybe I'd just go with Please don't kill me.
After a moment, the leader spoke again. "For now, we might as well give her the benefit of the doubt."
I would've sighed with relief, if I wasn't sure there was going to be more to this. Turns out, I was right to be worried.
"However," he continued, "We still have a problem. We don't know where we are, we have no reputation here, and our abilities seem to be at least somewhat weakened. So it looks like we have only one option for what to do." To my horror, he turned to me, and asked, "Where do you live?"
Momentarily forgetting that I was currently gagged, I tried to object, which ended up coming out as some sort of muffled, somewhat strangled-sounding scream. The leader, apparently realizing that I couldn't answer him if I couldn't talk, pulled down the gag that covered my mouth. I shuddered as his hand brushed against my face – his skin was cold, like a corpse's.
"Why the hell would you need to know where I live?" I demanded, a bit too loudly. The leader shot me a warning glare, and I quieted down quickly. "That doesn't seem like necessary information-"
"No, I suppose it's not," he replied, interrupting me. "We'll just have you take us there instead."
I could only gape at him as I realized what he was saying. "You... you can't stay there! I mean, I live in an apartment! For two people! How many of there are you?"
"We don't have a choice," he snapped – clearly, he was starting to run out of patience. "We have no idea where we are. And, since you've seen us here, we need to keep an eye on you anyway."
Rather than wondering what he thought I could do without them in my house that I couldn't with them, I gave my final argument: "I don't even know who you people are."
The leader, who had turned away to talk to one of the others, turned back to me. "We are Akatsuki," he said. Clearly, that was all the information I was getting.
So there's the first chapter! Reviews would be very appreciated!
