Junior looks up from its seat, a comfortable recliner partially hidden in the shadows. "Greetings readers. This will be one of many stories that I shall write. I must repeat the warning posted in my profile.
"I do not write fluffy stories."
The figure swivels, positioning further into the shadow, so that only the shining white of the mask shows in the light.
"This is, first and foremost, a horror fiction, and I plan to make it obvious why it is so. However, all good horror needs some lighter areas to make the horror have more impact. This is not a lovey-dovey fiction, and never will be.
"If you cannot handle graphic rape, torture or gore, please leave. This is very well the sickest thing I have ever written. However, if you're willing to read dedicatedly through those parts, then you may very well find a gem worth keeping. I hope this is so." "Farewell, for it is time for you to read the tale of the Prophet of Bones."
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Naruto sank into the relief of his shower, the cool water washing away the sweat and grime of a hard day's training. It has been two months since Tsunade was appointed Hokage. Lee is on the path to healing, Kakashi is actually paying more attention to him, and Jiraiya has hung around to give him extra training. His recent efforts are the result of both of them getting him ready for harder missions. Sakura still refuses his dates, Sasuke still torments him and the Konohamaru Corps still idolize them. Naruto smiles at the thought of his so-called followers. They're a little bit annoying, but Naruto actually finds it rather…cute.
Noticing the water getting a little too far on the cold side for his liking, Naruto turns off the faucet while reaching for a nearby towel. Rivulets of water stream down Naruto's developing body as he starts scrubbing, leaving his dried skin slightly pink as he moves on to other areas. Dropping the towel on to the nearby counter for a minute, the blond slips into his clean pajama pants, a brown muscle-shirt finding its way onto the boy's lean torso. Shaking his head to try and dry his hair, Naruto reaches once again for the towel.
Leaving the bathroom with the towel around his head, Naruto navigates his home easily, having memorized the layout of clutter that would have tripped anyone else. He used the mess as a kind of defense system. Any intruder without a decent amount of training would be sure to trip over something. Besides, this way he knew exactly what was in each pile. With his eyes closed, the thirteen year old reaches for his sleeping cap, always placed at the exact same place on his pillow. Not feeling the comforting cloth, Naruto finally opens his eyes, a sense of foreboding making a tight knot in his chest. All the lights in the house should be off; Naruto had made sure of that before going into the shower. The light in his living room is shining brightly. The closet door should be open, showing off all of his bright, beloved jumpsuits. The door is firmly closed. In a slight panic, Naruto rushes into the lit room. That pile of scrolls should be six inches to the left. The picture of him and Iruka should be completely straight, showing off the image proudly. Someone has turned it around, so that the picture faces the wall. Someone is here, or at least has been.
Glancing around nervously, Naruto extends his chakra-sensing abilities throughout the apartment. Nothing. He cautiously makes his way towards the door. What? There's a second pair of sandals on the entrance mat. That someone's still here.
"How nice of you to notice, Naruto-kun."
He barely has time to struggle when he hears that voice, strange and sinister. Strong, black-clad arms grab him, holding him by his suddenly pinned arms and chocking him with an iron grip. Those completely covered arms terrify him for some reason, but Naruto can't struggle. Air, air! He needs air! But no, that hand, that black gloved hand is chocking him, strangling him, depriving him of that vital life-giving gas. Between the pain of his crushing air-pipe and the ripping, shredding, pulling pain of his arms being pulled back, Naruto can't see. His vision is flashing white and black, black and white. The pain in his arms gets worse, he can't hear anything but the sickening rip of torn muscle and sinew, his own gasps and wheezes as he tries to breath. His throat gives in too, and suddenly he can't see, can't hear and can't feel anything but his own pain. Dimly, he is aware of the arms letting go, the solid coldness of the floor, and a flash of orange. The pain is dulling; his throat is crunching, crackling, rebuilding what was broken. His arms twist and twitch, slurp, gurgle, and then snap back into place.
The intruder is staring at him, fascinated. The orange of his swirling mask is neon, bright and cheerful. A complete mockery of what this man has just done. Yes, man. Naruto's vision was clearing and he could see the masked man solidly, standing there, watching him with his one eye like he was some kind of weird beast. Suddenly, the man is behind him, picking the boy up off the floor by his still-tender arms.
"So interesting, this ability. Ready to see how far it goes?"
"W-Who- W-What?"
The man flings the teen, throwing him across the room and into the wall right next to Naruto's bedroom door. He impacts with a yell, and the man is in front of him, a shiny kunai tracing the boy's open jaw. Feeling the blood run and the skin part, Naruto silences his scream immediately, filled with fear.
"Why'd you stop, Naruto-kun? You have such a beautiful voice, dripping with pain. Let's hear the fear, shall we?"
Madara dips the weapon in the thin cut, pressing into the jawbone when Naruto freezes. He starts moving the kunai south, running it along the thicker veins in the blond's neck, humming happily to himself. Naruto shakes like a leaf as he feels himself slipping, slipping closer to that red-blood-shining-knife. The kunai stops, slitting just under the jaw. With a scream, blood is gushing, gushing, gushing from the cut neck. So much blood. So much blood. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Too much red. Make the copper stop. Make it stop. Make it all stop.
"Stop? Why would we stop now? The fun has just begun, Naruto-kun."
It won't stop, even as Naruto is flung on to his bed. The blood pools, no longer squirting out. Instead he's drowning in it. Drowning in the sea of red copper. An odd song started in his mind.
Red, red, so much red! Drowning, drowning, soon to be dead! Red, dead, everyone red! Come! Dive! Copper and bleed. Die, die! Live for me! Dance, dance, field of red! Sleep where the red poppies grow! Red, red, so much red! Drowning, drowning, soon to be dead! Red, dead, everyone red! Come! Dive! Copper and bleed. Die, die! Live for me! Dance, dance, field of red! Sleep where the red poppies grow!"
"Will you stop that? It's getting annoying."
Naruto shakes at the dark tone in the voice. He is out of his world, his blissful world of red flowers, of red fields, of red waters and sky.
"If you want to talk so badly, I'll give you something to chant and scream about!"
The blond's neck has healed; enough for him to scream as the unmasked man brutally attacks it, his kunai lying menacingly close to his right eye. The scream increases in pitch as Madara rips away at the delicate, tanned neck. Sitting straight, Madara admires his handiwork as the ripped up base of the neck bleeds heavily, sending blood streaming down the shoulder and pooling on Naruto's chest and sheets. His bloody mouth leans down, capturing the blond's open one in hungry lips, ignoring the protesting arms that struggle to push him away. Biting and nibbling, licking and sucking, the Uchiha completely ravishes Naruto's mouth, leaving it nothing but a ripped bloody mess that gasps for air.
Those gasps turn to screams as Madara savages the other side of the tanned neck, his other hand gripping Naruto's wrists in a bruising grip. Lips coated with sticky blood, he makes his way down to the blond's nipples, biting and sucking along the way. Taking the delicate nub into his mouth, Madara bites down hard, loving the sweet squirts of blood and the boy's pained gasps.
"AHHHHHHH!!!!!!! hahuh….P-PLEASE! S-STOP! Hiiiiie…. S-STOP! SOMEBODY! HELP!!!AHHHHH-HHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! haahuuuhhaahuuuuhaahuuuh"
The blond's voice is cracking, raising to an octave it was never meant to be at. Madara stubbornly persists, in total control. Naruto, his mind hazy from the pain, finds strength he doesn't know he has, wrenching one of his arms free from the man. Madara is caught by surprise by the incoming fist, rising from Naruto's bloody chest. An iron grip catches the incoming punch.
"You know, this resistance of yours is getting annoying. Now, try that again, and you'll get worse than this."
He effortlessly shifts his grip on the arm, putting enough pressure on it that the arm breaks with a very deliberate snap. Naruto's scream of pain is higher and more shrill than before, sending shivers of ecstasy up the raven's spine. Grabbing the neglected kunai, Madara slices open Naruto's shirt, making a cut in the skin at the same time. Naruto's pants are next, the seams ripped apart and skin sliced open, made worse by the fact that they had been numb before. His legs are burning from the sudden abuse, his screams encouraging Madara even more. He traced a mindless pattern into Naruto's legs, deep and shallow cuts, watching his contorting face instead of the already healing legs.
Pain, pleasure and fear hit Naruto in a large wave when he felt the kunai stabbing and ripping into his legs at the same instant wet warmth surrounded his limp member. Naruto screams and moans all at once. He can feel the man smirking as he speeds up. No. No. nononononono! "S-stop…." A stab in the boy's hip makes him scream, and it becomes unbearable. The pain, the pleasure. Could one come without the other, or are they the same in this black-red-white-orange world? An explosion of white, obliterating and pure, yet so dirty, so sinful. Rustling, and Naruto is on his stomach. His filthy, rough sheets cling to his wounds, threads getting caught as they heal. Silence. Blessed silence. No more pain, no more man. Has he left? No. A shift on the bed. He is still here.
"P-please…… n-no more…….. p-please…."
Naruto's arms press up against the older man weakly, trying to escape the torture.
"Don't say I didn't warn you Naruto-kun." Those hands grab his by the wrists, forcing the boy's hands to overlap each other against the headboard. The kunai is back in Madara's hand, but soon leaves it. Only for it to be embedded up to the hilt, right in the centre of both palms, pinning them to the headboard. The pain blacks out everything else. Words are screamed, unhearable to the damaged blond.
"Stop? We are far from stopping, little Naruto-kun. In fact, we're only getting started."
A hand presses into his shoulder, and the kunai dances into his skin, making patterns that he can't even distinguish any more. In his world, there is only pain. The only change is the type and degree of pain. Nothing else exists. Ripping, tearing, destroying the muscle and nerves and skin and nerves and muscles and the PAIN. The cutting stopped, replaced by a heavy weight and warm breath on his ear. A red wave and the pain is vanishing, bit by bit.
"Ready, my little Naruto-kun? After this you'll be mine."
A sharp bite to his ear, and the weight was gone again. Hands parted his legs, and things clicked in Naruto's mind.
"N-NO!!! NOT THAT!! A-ANYTHING BUT THAT!! PLEASE! P-please…."
A soft chuckle and hands grips his hips, as something large and hard prods at his untouched entryway. A slow push, just barely stretching the muscle. Naruto whimpers, bracing himself for the unavoidable truth.
A sudden stretch, something large and intrusive in a place not meant to be abused like this. A split second, then shooting, destructive pain wracks his body. A world shattering scream and the pressure inside is gone, leaving only pain. Only for Madara to force himself back inside the abused boy. In, out, in, out, a relentless, savage pace for the young virgin beneath him. Sobs, screams, moans and creaking springs are the only sounds in the bloody room.
"Ooooo-hhhhhhh. You're sooooo tight, little Naruto-kun!"
"p-pleaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! St-sto-AAAHH!!!!!!! DAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! pl-pl-please….hic….. pl-pl-please…."
Madara is relentless in his thrusts, paying no mind to the amount of damage his kunai and 'kunai' are doing to the boy's ass and hands. After what seems an eternity, long after Naruto's voice and throat are too abused to do anything but whimper, the hot, sticky, dirty end comes with a moan from the dark man. Pulling out of the abused boy, Madara only pauses by him to pull his kunai out of the boy's abused, ruined hands. Naruto's eyes are dead, staring vacantly ahead at the man who utterly broke him as Madara cleans himself off with a tattered remnant of Naruto's brown muscle shirt. Glancing back only once, he leaves the blond's vision, completely erasing his immediate presence as Naruto curves into a fetal position as best he can.
Damn it brat! If it weren't for me, you'd be dead! Why the hell do you get yourself into these things? Stupid fucking meatbag!
Naruto's only response is the silent tears running down his dirtied cheek as he tries to pull up the soiled covers for a bit of protection. But he can't. Something's blocking the covers. A chill settles over his body as he finally notices that weight on his bed.
"My, my. You're just too good, I can't stay away! Ready for round two?"
Naruto's only reply is the torn, broken scream as the point of something sharp digs into his back and one of those hands holds him down.
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Iruka knocks lightly on the door, worried that something might have happened. Naruto's not the type to pass up on free ramen, after all! Getting no response, Iruka taps harder, only to find the door swings open of its own accord. He glances around nervously, feeling a powerful chakra encasing the room. Feeling it for what it is, he quickly dispels the genjutsu, rushing towards the nearby light switch.
'Why was there a silencing jutsu on Naruto-kun's apartment?'
His hands fly to his mouth, and if it weren't for his old ANBU training, he would have puked. Iruka rushes through the apartment, calling out and trying his best to ignore the pink, white, and red stains on almost every surface in the apartment. When he finds Naruto, however, Iruka almost wishes he hadn't.
"Oh dear Kami! NARUTO!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
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Oreo; in shock O.M.F.G. What the hell did you do?
"What does it look like? This was your idea to do this in the first place, Oreo."
Oreo; Still, I didn't expect, well, THIS!
"Suck it up, princess. It was you request for this type of scene anyways. If you don't like this kind of thing, why the hell are you here?"
Oreo; simple; I'm waiting for your fairytales. When will the first one be done?
"When I get around to it, that's when."
Oreo; I've seen her other ideas for this story, so try and stick around okay? Ja!
"Well, what the hell are you waiting for? The review button's right there, so chop-chop! I've got to go put this on the bookshelf."