I am dead. Even though you know this, when I am done speaking, you will still be shocked, no, devastated. I warn you now. My story is not a gracious one.
I was once a servant for the terrorist organization, the Akatsuki. Not voluntarily, of course. No one in their right mind would serve villains like them purposely. No, I was a prisoner. They'd stolen me from the Sound village, from my dad, who owned a dumpling shop, and my mom, who was an average yet efficient kunoichi. I think I was nineteen. Maybe. A lot of details were lost when I died, but that's death. I guess I don't really need to remember.
Mostly, I did their laundry and cooked their meals and washed their dishes and kept their rooms clean. Their laundry was always ridiculously smelly and sweaty, due to their regularly strenuous missions. They ate like large, starving pigs, or maybe wolves. Perhaps monsters. They were monsters, pretty much. And they left their plates on the table covered in the muck and grease left over from their ravenous mealtimes. Their rooms were always left a mess, and more than a few times I got hurt by various traps and weapons left in their rooms. I still have a scar from one of Deidara-sama's "accidental" explosions.
They're all sadists, every single one of them. They were seriously trying to kill me without actually killing me. Life was made as difficult as possible. They clamped heavy chains to my wrists and ankles, and made me do all my chores in them. Whenever I would pass one of them, my head bowed in either respect or terror, they would trip me or slap me. And laugh, of course. I hated it.
I hated them, too, I think. But after a while, I got used to them. Well, as used as a girl could get to being abused and forced to work for a group of crazy ninjas bent on taking over the world with mythical beasts sealed up in a giant, fancy statue.
I think I was crazy. Maybe I still am. I'm dead. Can dead people be crazy? Even now, I'm still driven crazy. At least now I know, though. There's all of you. You obviously don't remember, but I'll try to keep my memories for all of us. We were all in the same predicament, right?
It was Hidan-sama. The creepy one with the slicked back silver hair and the foul mouth. I was sent to the medic a lot because he would sneak up behind me and drive some type of knife through my back. One day it was a kunai, next a shuriken, a regular table knife. I think he put his actual scythe through me once. I have no idea how I survived that. If it weren't for Kabuto-sama--even a lowly, triple-crossing medic was higher than me--I would've died. I should've died then. I kinda wish I did. I guess when the next one gets here, I'll forget like you guys did. Memories are unbearable.
I looked forward to the daily ritual of him stabbing me, swearing about how I was wasting my blood all over the floor, then dragging me unceremoniously to Kabuto-sama's lab and dumping me there until Kabuto-sama found me. Usually on a lunch break. Which would make HIM swear, although less violently than Hidan-sama. When the wounds were too big, Kabuto-sama would have to enlist the help of Kakuzu-sama, when he was there.
I didn't get to recover. I was a slave. What slave gets to rest after injuries when there's ten hungry men and a loud-mouthed bluenette to be fed? The chains stayed on too. I think I was....how do you say it? I'm no good with medical terms--um, word for blood-loss--ah, anemic. Anemic. All the time. I should've died then, too.
Hidan's room was fascinating. It was just as dark in the other rooms, but his was the only one perpetually covered in blood and severed limbs. Mostly heads. I don't know how much of it was his. Or his victims. I caught him in the middle of a ritual, and he looked up from his prayer. I wasn't fast enough to escape. I should've died then. But no, he didn't kill me. He laid me down on the giant symbol of blood on his floor and cut me open. He was laughing, too, as he pressed the hard steel of his scythe into my stomach. He mumbled something about my blood being useful now.
When he finally tossed me out of his room, Tobi-sama happened to be walking by and graciously yelled for Kabuto-sama. Without actually helping me first. I managed to crawl to his lab and clean the wound. I had been in there so many times that I knew exactly what needed to be done. At dinner, Leader-dono noticed I was lagging, and reprimanded me. He said if I started making a habit of going slowly, he would kill me.
When they didn't call me various foul names, which got more creative as they made a game of it, they referred to me as Number Eleven. Now that I'm here, I know why. There's ten of you....and then I'm the eleventh. I guess the next girl that gets here will be twelve, but I won't remember. I wish I could, though. I want to hold this with me until I fade away into nothingness.
I always cleaned Hidan-sama's room last. I dusted in there quite a bit, too. All those empty heads staring back at you made me want to laugh and hurl at the same time. I think I did laugh, and then cried like a baby for half-an-hour. After that, I always went in there, even when I wasn't cleaning. Sometimes I would talk to the heads. Once or twice they would answer back. What they said rarely made sense, but it was okay, because I'd imagined it anyways. They were great listeners.
I was talking to the decapitated head who'd told me his name was Yosuke-kun when Hidan-sama caught me. At first I didn't realize that he was standing there, listening with a smug grin on his face, but I noticed Yosuke-kun suddenly looked pale and had shut up. He didn't look at Hidan-sama, so I did. And I smiled.
"Hello, Hidan-sama. You never told me you cut Yosuke-kun's head off. He's really interesting once you get to know him." I patted Yosuke-kun's thinning salt-and-pepper hair. A bit fell off, I think. Hidan-sama burst into fits of maniacal laughter.
"You're fucking insane." He stated once he caught his breath. I kept smiling. He grabbed me by the collar and lifted me to the air. I grabbed Yosuke and pulled him up with me. "Tell me, Eleven. Are you a virgin?"
I honestly should have seen that trap. I already knew that Hidan-sama killed virgins for fun...no, for his god. The one that blows people up. But I'd had such a good conversation with Yosuke-kun that my good mood overshadowed any common sense.
"Uh-huh?"
He dropped me and kicked his door closed. I blinked. Just blinked. I was still clutching Yosuke-kun's head. I think he was scared. But he was already dead. Or maybe I was.
Hidan-sama slashed through his cloak and chest with a kunai and dripped blood into the well bloodied symbol on his floor. Then he cut me. I laughed, I think, or maybe I cried. I'm pretty sure I screamed or something. It was a happy scream. He flung my blood onto the symbol and did ninja hand signs. I'd seen my dad do those a few times, but something bad always happened afterwards.
Something bad did happen. Hidan-sama turned black, jet black, pitch black, tar black, with white markings covering his face and the bit of his chest I could see. He tossed his Akatsuki cloak off and I could see that the markings followed the creases on his body that marked his bones. I wasn't thinking, so I held Yosuke-kun out to Hidan-sama. He knocked poor Yosuke-kun out of my outstretched hands and yanked me up to him. It was strange, because I felt both being yanked up and yanking me up. He muttered something into his silver necklace, the one that matched his floor symbol, and started laughing some more.
Hidan-sama handed me the kunai and gestured to himself. "Go ahead. Cut me."
I don't know why I decided to. I liked Hidan-sama. He was a butt, but at least he knew it and wanted everyone else to know too. I thought his hair and purple eyes were cute. But I hated him. So I stabbed him in the chest and squealed at the wound in my own chest. He chuckled and nodded for me to continue. I kept stabbing him, all around his heart. I punctured both of my lungs, so I couldn't breathe. Then I worked on cutting through our cheeks. He smiled and it hurt to smile and I smiled.
He grabbed the kunai back and cut my hair off. All my tangled locks fell off, blonde and sandy brown together. His hair stayed, though, but I guess hair has no pain, so it can't feel being cut off. He shoved the kunai in my heart. It hurt a bit. I think I died then. But I was still alive. I shoved my face forward and pressed my lips to his wounded cheek. He kicked me in the shins and when I fell, stepped on me. "You're in love with me, aren't you?" I think that made him mad. Or amused. I couldn't tell. There was blood in my eyes. He started up that maniacal laugh again, and I sputtered into infinity. With you guys.
I think. I hope Number Twelve comes soon. I want to hear her story, and I want to forget mine. I wonder...I wonder if I can keep my memory. You guys didn't, but maybe I can.
What was I talking about again?
In the world of the living...
Hidan smirked and kicked the lifeless body of Number Eleven to make sure she was dead. She was still warm. He grabbed his scythe and cut her head clean off, and place dit on the shelf. Next to her head, he placed the head of the dead man she was talking to. He, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why she'd called him Yosuke. His name was Kamaru.