It's dark.
The air is cold.
The faint glow of the single, lit street light emanates its golden rays in small halos.
The streets are empty save for a lone soul. He wanders the streets looking for his answers.
The row of houses to his right are dark, their inhabitants having gone to bed hours ago, and now the only evidence left of their existence are the faint snores that can be heard coming from inside.
The left side of the street opens into a vast field. The grass is tall, standing 3 feet tall at its lowest point. The cool night breeze blows across the field, rippling the grass in water-like waves.
There is a rustling in the grass, the snapping of twigs. Two glowing red orbs appear for the briefest of moments before receding with a guttural snarl.
He pauses for a moment before continuing on as if nothing had occurred.
He makes his way down the street, his pale, ghostly figure gliding across the pavement with the grace and poise of an elegant feline.
He passes the street lamp, his fingers barely grazing the cool steel of the pole before the sound of one thousand birds shriek through the air. The light shatters into oblivion; a loud crackling echoes in the dark.
He pauses. It's finally decided to show itself.
The wind suddenly picks up. A huge gust of swirling wind blows through the street, whipping his raven hair into his face and making his silvery robe ripple.
He sighs, refusing to face such a barbaric beast and continues down the street.
It growls at him, infuriated that he would dare turn his back to it.
Still he continues on.
In the blink of an eye, it launches at him; its dagger-like claws outstretched towards his back.
There is a flash, like that of lightning, and the defining shrill of birds; the snarl of the nine-tailed beast resounds through the empty air.
The sound of droplets hitting the ground is all that can be heard. Even the wind has died.
A pool of scarlet collects on the ground beside the street light, and a small rivulet floods over into the street.
The tailed beast is attached to his lithe body, its claws shredding through his arms where it grasps for a better hold. Its scythe-like fangs tear through the fair, blood-stained skin of his neck, sinking deep into his jugular.
Still he makes no sound.
Even as the beast releases its hold on his neck and attacks the soft flesh of his stomach, feasting on his body, he remains quiet.
Then, as the monster drives its dirty, bloodied claws into his chest, intent on removing his heart, does he receive the answer he has been searching for.
"I was meant to die."
Hello!
I wrote this the other night and I was in a bad mood... I'm sure you could tell from the fact that I murdered Sasuke for no apparent reason. Anyways... I hope you enjoyed my short, little, story and I do plan to post this multi-chapter story I have been working on, very soon!
As always, please review... even if it's just to say you hate it! I love flame mail! It makes me laugh!
Later!