AN: I thought of these in the middle of math, kind of a weird subject to think up drabble ideas, but never expect any routine from inspiration. Anyway, hope you like and I'm open to ideas if you guys have any. Nothing too out there and nothing that's been done like a million times. Whatev, all are appreciated.
Disclaimer: I...wait, you know what these always say, why don't you all figure out the rest?
What was a family is now a shell. One drinks and throws her money away. Another spends his days wandering the country and flirting with whores. And he sits in his hideout, staring at vile after vile of some specimen he collected over the years, wondering what the deformed creature used to be. His thin fingers intertwine amongst themselves like stringy vines in the tangle of nerves and muscles that is his body.
But this body is growing weak, his trees are dying and with them, the vines are beginning to shrivel. He looks down to his fingers and sees the tiny wrinkles bubbling to the surface.
It's almost time, not much longer now.
He leans back in his throne of sorts with a heavy breath escaping his lungs and strands of his hair falling in his face.
Orochimaru is his name, and he is the long forgotten son, pushed into evil by his twisted genius. The line between insanity and genius has long been crossed; he can no longer differentiate between the two. He's lost his direction and doesn't think he'll be able to find it.
He's gotten lost in his own dense forest.
The luscious green has died down into a sickly brown that coats him from head to toe, like the thick skin of a snake. He scratches and scratches, picks at the flaking pieces in a desperate attempt at freedom, longing for the once pulsating green. But his fingers can't dig deep enough, they're too weak; he can't roll through his motions like he used to, his trunk is rotting. The once strong and solid man is now a pitiful shell of what he used to be.
His better half lay shed on the ground around him, like the old rotten bark of a mighty oak.
He is the first to fade; he was already gone before his body started showing the signs. It doesn't matter how healthy the outside is, how powerful the roots are or the width of protective bark, if the center is rotten, nothing can stop the rot.
The whole forest goes down in smoke.
I was a little depressed and was looking out my window when I wrote this one. It's not the best view and it gave me great inspiration, like depthness and stuff. But then I had some goldfish and they cheered me up! Anyway, once again, ideas for more drabbles are welcome, send me any and all!
PEACE :P