Disclaimer – I don't own Naruto. Original five chapters by won't be the Victim

BEATEN

My ragged breathing filled the silence of the small cold room as I stood head down, to watch the fresh blood trickling down my arm pool on the floor by my side in a spreading stain. A rush of dizziness made me pitch dangerously to one side but I caught myself at the last moment and staggered backwards, slamming my back into the wall. I let out a short choked scream as the pain racks my senses and races through my body. Slowly, I slid down the wall and sat heavily on the hard floor.

Shit, that hurt. Everything fucking hurt. My body was pulsing, still feeling the blows that no longer pounded into me.

I rested my head on the wall behind me and let the cold of the cement calm my raging headache. A shiver went all the way up my spine, jarring my body. Ow. Shit. Shifting, I tried to find a more comfortable section of wall but end up gasping as my broken ribs cry bloody murder at the sudden movement. A few hot tears escaped, stinging the hell out of the bloody scrapes on my cheeks. I lifted my hand, which takes a lot more work then it should, and scrubbed them away. Of course, this only succeeded in smearing blood in my eyes and down my cheek. I let my hand drop back to the floor to splash in the pool of blood it had been sitting in. Only a minor miracle kept me from collapsing to the floor with it. I sat up straighter, hissing in pain.

Trying to distract myself, I looked around the small room I'm prisoner in. It was pretty typical. That is, if hell could be typical. The room was standard size, brightly lit by florescent track lighting (the kind you find in office buildings) with four dark gray walls and a metal door painted to match the wall so that it was hard to tell it's there when it was closed.
If not for the blood, it would be a totally gray room. But there are patches of blood everywhere, even the ceiling. It makes the room smell like old copper all the time. I never knew blood could be different colors depending on how old it was.

My eyes wander to the far left wall and pick out a dark brown patch in the middle. That would be the oldest blood patch. At least, I think it is. It's the darkest so it should be the oldest. See, that patch over there is from last week and it's much brighter; Kind of a brick red color.

Or was it a few days ago? I don't remember. That goon with the big ass sword sliced my back and I fell on the wall creating that patch. Right? No one answers my unspoken question and I close my eyes. I still see the varying shades of red behind my eyelids. I sigh and shift again. My breath hitch and I nearly sob as fresh pain shoots down my spine and spreads through my chest.

I can't take much more of this. How long had this been going on; a few weeks maybe? It feels like months. Days and days of beatings by Sound assholes. Little food or sleep. Absolutely no idea of why any of this is happening to me. I can scream and plead all I want but no one answers me. So I finally just lost the will to speak, it only makes things worse. Everyday is the same routine. I'm roused from a fitful sleep by a Kabuto or another and beaten by him and his buddies in various ways for an unspecified length of time. Then at some point after that, I'm given some unrecognizable soup like substance by another silent guard, while Orochimaru asks if I will heal his arms.

This shit is going to kill me. I can feel it. Everyday I get weaker and weaker. I'm barely able to fight back anymore. Sometimes I think it would be so nice to give up. Simply give up and beg for them to kill me and get it over with.

A part of me rebels instantly at that thought. I have way too much pride to let them know just how little strength I have left. Too damn stubborn to give up.

But, I'm so tired. I can barely breathe without constant pain. I heave a purely internal sigh and try to distract myself again. This time with images of the surprise on that stupid Snake's face as I snatched the kunai from his hand and stabbed him with it.

Jerked out of my revelry by the sound of scraping coming from the door in front of me, I felt my heart stop in my chest. No! They just left; they can't be coming back this soon. I close my eyes and groan. I try to find even a grain of strength so I can meet them standing as I always do. Panic flares when my legs won't obey me; or any other part of my body for that matter. As quickly as the panic flares, it dies, leaving behind a numb hopelessness that shocks me.

This must be it, I think dejectedly as INNER Sakura is screaming at me to stop feeling so damn helpless. I listen to the metallic click of the key tripping the lock to the door of my hell. Taking a deep breath, ignoring the stabbing pain it brought, I will myself to sit still and at least not cringe away since I couldn't stand.

Maybe they'll just put a katana to my throat and be done with it.

Yeah, and maybe Sasuke will swoop in and save me.

I feel fresh air swirl against my skin as the door opens silently and I stiffen. Still not opening my eyes, I wait to hear the heavy stomping of sound scum making their way in my direction. Instead I hear the clicking heels of one set of footsteps. Soon I feel the air currents push against me as if someone is very close. A sharp scrape sounds, echoing through the room and I feel it vibrate through the floor. There, the sound of cloth on cloth and a sharp click. Then all was silent again. The only sound now is my own harsh breathing and frantic heartbeat.

Well, this is different. Normally the bastards just rampage in and beat the shit out of me. Cracking an eye open, I focus blurrily on a man sitting not two feet in front of me. Part of me absently wonders if he realizes that he's getting his clothing bloody.

"Alive are we? Good, it would upset my schedule if you died at this time."

My other eye shot open in shock at the sound of the man's soft deep voice. This is the first time Orochimaru has come in after me being "persuaded" as he put it. I stare at the man, with as much hate as I can muster. I can't believe what I am seeing this can't be. Orochimaru is standing there but it's not Orochimaru, its Naruto.

No.

NO! It is NOT Naruto! It can't be. I stare harder and there it is it's a genjustu. Good, Naruto is still safe back in Konoha. He's bigger than me but it's not that hard to be. He blond spiky hair is still the same but he is mature. But it's his eyes that gave him away; Naruto would never look at anyone that way. I realize I've been staring at him just as he began to talk again.

"Are you studying me? You don't have to answer; I can see it in those lovely Green eyes of yours, Sakura-chan." He smiles and chuckles at me.

I tense as he leans forward and lifts his katana off the ground. Smiling a tad wider, he pokes me in the ribs with the end of it until I gasp in pain.

"So that hurt, did it? Did someone hurt the poor weak cherry blossom? Is it a wonder why me and Sasuke left? Your always were pathetic. Oh well, nothing we can do about that, eh, Sakura-chan? So where dose it hurt – the ribs maybe?" He gave me a curious expression and sounded genuinely concerned.

He's such a bad liar.

I wasn't answering fast enough apparently, because he raised his katana, specks of blood now decorating the end like some macabre decoration, in preparation to poke a response out of me.

"Y-yes." I croak, my voice long gone from the screaming and misuse. I wince at the harshness of it. Arms wrapped protectively around my middle, I found that grain of strength I'd been searching for and sat up a little. I drag my legs until they are crossed in front of me and sit there panting from the effort. The man who is supposed to be Naruto laughs and retracts the katana, settling it back in front of him and placing his hands on top of it.

"It's alive, it's alive!" He crows, eyes shining in amusement. I tense again, feeling what blood is left leave my face. All of a sudden, the amusement drains out of his eyes and the look he gives me leaves me cold.

"Do I frighten you? Good. I am a very scary man and you would do well to remember that," Naruto says as he changes into Orochimaru.

Somehow I get the feeling that this man would never even blink at killing me. Oh no, he'd rip out my heart and go out for a ramen afterwards.

"Now, you said that something was broken by my men. And by the way you're sitting I'll assume it's your ribs. Do you know which of my men it was?" He asked.

After a few tries I finally croaked out a yes. I didn't want to be poked by the katana again. I know exactly who'd broken my ribs. The man with the black rose tattooed on his temple. At the time, I remember wondering why on earth anyone would put that on his face, but then I remembered Gaara, as he applied the bat he'd been holding to my unprotected middle. The resounding crack and flare of pain told me that something was desperately wrong this time.

The man left me without another question. The door closed and once again I heard footsteps coming close to, me wrenched out of the past and back to the present. I shook my head to try and clear it but my vision swam and blackness began to eat at the corners of reality. Why is the floor getting so close? Dimly, I hear the footsteps stop and a small gasp before falling over with a crash. Right before I hit the floor, strong arms catch me and hold me as I pass out. At least I didn't hurt anymore.