All credit to The Poarter for the original idea for this fic, but as per the disclaimer on my profile… I CLAIM THIS IDEA IN THE NAME OF THE DEAK GOD CTHULU (still no fuckin idea how to pronounce that), MAY HIS MAJESTY LIFE ON NOW AND FOR ETERNITY.

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Alright go that out of my system, let's start the story.

(Seven years after the Kyuubi attack on Konohagakure no Sato)

Burning

As the crowd closes in anticipating its long awaited kill, I close my eyes and accept my fate. No use whining might as well die with a bit of dignity. The looks in their eyes tell me there will be no mercy, no remorse; no humanity… the Will of Fire has always been the so called 'heart' of Konoha. Today that fire is being used to set my corpse ablaze.

It awakens, long has it slumbered in a world that had forgotten it, its makers, its wielders. The world moved on without it. It festers slowly, sluggish from millennium of inactivity. It has forgotten its power, lost to the reaches of time. Only the core of its abilities remain, its most basic essence is all it retains from a legacy of bloodshed and sorrow.

Suffering

The men and women around me begin to pound on my already battered body. Punches and kicks rain on me and I am helpless to stop it. This is only the beginning though. Many of these altercations have occurred over the years, but never before have I seen this looks in their eyes. I am to die today. It has not been fated, nor destined, it is simply the objective of the humans before me, the ones who label me 'monster' and 'demon', and yet hold no sympathy in their hearts for the child they are killing.

It searches and wonders why was it conscious; it had risen before when it felt insipid mortals building upon its resting place. But they did not interest it, it couldn't care less for their petty affairs and pointless concerns, the last time any mortal had concerned it was when Dana was… wait what? It did not have feelings or concerns about these disgusting flesh bags. Why did care for one that perished so long ago?

Bleeding

The crowd has grown tired of simply raining blows down upon me. I look up hoping against hope that I might get a reprieve, that a white knight would come down and save me... that I might not die tonight. I look up and those dreams are crushed. The cynical part of me almost wants to laugh, how foolish. Every dream I have is crushed. I dream that I might find happiness in life yet at every turn I suffer. I dream that I might be a great shinobi, but every no one will ever train me, teach me or aid me in any form or fashion. I dream of being acknowledged by my family but they barely give me the time of day. Hell I'm lucky if I'm the world notices me beyond being the occasional punching bag.

It is puzzled, how is it feeling again? It has not felt for so long. Not since the other ones died. Not since it became alone. Not since they took Amaya from him… It grows more confused, flashes of lives it barely recalls go through its mind. It does not remember well the emotions and turmoil of when it had emotion. It remembers the carnage it cause, the blood it spilled, the flesh it ripped, the tendons it tore and the steel it rent, but not the emotion it once possessed.

Piercing

They draw weapons and move in for the kill, flashes of metals of all shapes and sizes appear and disappear just as quickly, taking parts of me with them. A well-oiled katana takes a quarter of my arm, a rusty sickle that had never before left the farm got its first taste of blood as it claims my foot from the ankle down. And… is that a pitchfork… yup, there's a pitchfork sticking out of my stomach… hmph, go fuckin figure. I should be in pain, but I feel oddly detached, kinda fuzzy all over. So this is what dying feels like… not too shabby, if the standards of my life thus far are anything to go by I should be in a great deal of pain right now.

It does understand, what is causing it to feel? It reaches out with its mind to try to find answers. It does not take long. A crowd stands, with little but bloodlust on their minds, a crowd of fully grown adults armed with all manner of weapons. It feels the anger and rage of the crowd, but it is no stranger to these emotions, it has rarely ever stirred because of them. It looks further and is shocked to its core. A child, a bloodied and battered child is at the center of the crowd. It should not be misunderstood. It is no stranger to bringing harm and suffering to the defenseless. In fact it takes great pleasure in such actions, and looks on the scene with an appreciative eye, as if an artist looking upon the work of one of its peers works. No, what shocks it is the emotion it feels from the boy, acceptance of death. Not as in welcoming the inevitable, but actually calling for it, beckoning for its arrival. This need was not to escape the pain of that specific moment, that horrendous experience, but to escape an existence that was nothing but suffering. A feeling it knew all too well. And in the deepest, darkest depths of its being, something awoke at this discovery. And it was not alone.

Dying

At this stage there's really not much of me left. Even if those miserable fuckers I call a family were to discover me know and drive off my assailants, it wouldn't mean anything. It's too late, I'm too far gone. I'm already dead. With on last cry of "Die Demon" a blade is plunged into my heart. He crowd cheers and begins to disperse, not even showing me the decency to finish me off, just leaving me to bleed out on the cold hard concrete. I wonder how I'm even still conscious. Not that it matters. But I guess you do get slightly contemplative when staring death in the face. I feel myself slipping. I feel no sorrow, no remorse. My only regret is not being able to say goodbye to her. The only one who ever cared. The only one that ever noticed. The only one who ever gave a damn. I wish I could say goodbye, I wish I could thank her, I wish I could tell her I love her because she was he only one who ever gave me something I could love. Instead I simply died. And with that Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze was gone.

It reached out and embraced the lone body lying in the street. It did not care for the blood pooled around the corpse or the tattered remains scattered around the body, detached by a multitude of blades. No it only cared for the heart and mind of the one who awoke it. It used the last of its reserves to encompass the body and integrate itself in. It was nothing like a human. It felt none of the concerns. Not Love or lust, not wrath or rage, not joy or jubilation. But this boy had felt something it felt. For that it would give him another chance. A chance to do more, to be more. And to make this pathetic world fear the name Blacklight once more.

Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze awoke. He looked around at the darkness surrounding his body. Huh, so he did end up in hell. " *Sigh*, hope the foods decent. Cuz thus far hell doesn't seem much." He stated sounding resigned to his fate.

He heard chuckling and turned around to see two individuals mostly clad in black. He turned to the one making the sound and waited.

Alex Mercer cracked a smile for the first time I almost 2000 years and turned to his compatriot.

"What do you think Heller, is this kid ready to make a deal with the devil?"

So first chapter of my first fanfiction ever. Read and review. I want to sort out the kinks in my writing before I set in for the long haul fics. - BftB