hey! what happens when Kurama's blood thristy deaths catch up to him? this is the result my dear readers... EXTREME GORE!....you are warned.....R&R plz ^_^ **************************************************************************** * The dream is a billowing smothering seething cloud this time, that wraps me in Darkness. Fighting for every breadth I claw and bite at the Blackness. I slip, lose my hold for a moment and the Dream plunges in, ripping me from my body, and carrying me away with it.

The fog recedes, leaving me blind, and helpless. I can feel the strong oak on which I am bound, the rough grooves and edges biting into my back and legs. I try to move my hands and feet, but they are wrapped tight with some rough material at the joints. A slight breeze drifts around the room, bringing to me the smells of cooking, sweat, and fear.

Someone's breath slams me in the face, wreaking of stale alcohol and meat. Rough hands grab at my body, pinching my thighs, rubbing my stomach, cupping my head. Words swirl around me coming from unknown mouths in anonymous faces. Slowly the hands stop searching my body, and I'm left once again with the Darkness and the wood.

A cheer blasts through the chamber as my blindfold is torn from my body. Pain slams into my skull as my eyes are exposed to the blazing torchlight. White hot pain erupting at the back of my head coupled by the twin embers that have become my eyes. Slowly the pain fades to a dim simmer and I can begin to make out figures around me. Faces illuminated by the light, familiar ones, ones I should recognize: friends? Family? Both. Their faces split wide in toothy maniacal grins, eyes glazed over in excitement as they all stare at me, ripping my skin with their merciless starved eyes.

Another figure appears among the crowd. Once more familiar, but I can't make out his/her face. The other in this hungry mob begin to chant the figure's name, urging them on, arms flailing, mouths spread wide in hoots and hollers, cat calls and vile language. An object appears in the figures hand, blazing with reflected torchlight. The howls become louder with the kitchen knife's appearance, the crowd going mad.

The knife glides up my right thigh, slicing away the flesh exposing the muscles and nerves beneath. I stare at the blood beginning to well up in the groove, the pain taking a moment's time to travel up to my brain. When the pain does, it slams into me ripping away control of my own body; my muscles going taught doubling the pain. A cry for mercy tearing from my mouth.

My screams only seem to increase my tormentor's pleasure. The knife plunges down again opening a second wound on my other thigh, the agony rising in crescendo with the crowds chanting and dancing. The blade slides into the other hand giving the figure the reach to glide the edge along my forearm, opening the vein followed shortly by is sister on my other arm.

The agony by now is a pounding awe-inspiring crash of sensation , my brain exploding with agony, seeming to grow in proportion to the blood pouring out of my arms and legs. A hand grabs my jaw and forces me to watch the crows many of them now naked, hands between each other's legs, grabbing breasts and biting but still their hungry eyes are locked onto me, their teeth gnashing together.

A sharp jab of sensation punctuates the symphony of pain and fear, tearing my face away, I stare at the knife resting in my flesh just below my collarbone. The terror mounts as the blade cuts down my chest ending a little above my groin. Two more cuts follow that: one across my upper chest at the start of the first and the other at the bottom of it. Familiar, loving hands grip the edges of the cut and pull, ripping the skin from the muscles and bone beneath. Pain the likes of which.. Tears through my brain, my jaw cracking as my body screams. The torrent of anguish increases until it carries my consciousness away with it.

Vision and awareness slowly return, a pounding thumping pain tinted perception. My body is numb, I can feel nothing below my collar. Craning my neck I can see down my length, and immediately wish I hadn't. Large nails have been used to hold back the skin covering my chest, their points plunged through the flaps and into the table, exposing my innards to them. and me. Strips of flesh are missing from my legs and the smell of cooking meat fills the room. I laugh: a coarse rough laugh at the connection.

Hands dip down and lovingly caressingly begin to pull out my intestines, fondling and tickling each link as it is removed. Tongues emerge form mouths, taste buds being run across the pink tissues as yard upon yard is pulled out. Eventually they come to the end, and the leader cuts it clean out using his/her long kitchen knife. Immediately I see them carry the strands over to the nearest cooking fire.

Using the knife like a scalpel, the figure carefully removes a kidney, tenderly caressing the organ as it is amputated, sticking out it tongue to run it along the kidney's surface before passing it on, so the process can be repeated before being placed on another grill.

Slowly painstakingly the ritual is performed with each of my internal organs until there is no possible way

I could still be alive much to my horror.

When there are no more organs to harvest, the figure moves to the head of my slab. Delicately he/she places the edge of the knife against my fore- head, parallel to my hairline. Slowly he/she drives the blade into skin and bone. Using the knife like a saw, he/she starts carving off my cranium like a pumpkin. My hair turns a bright red from the blood pouring into it, my eyes are being blinded as the flood of blood runs in to the valleys where they rest in my face.

I hear a ripping noise as the top of my skull is completely pulled off. The leader leans forwards, opening its mouth wide and using its teeth tears a chunk out my brain.

Suddenly as if on cue the others go crazy, attacking each other in their mad scramble to get a mouthful of my brain. And as more and more of it is pulled out, my eyes get heavier and heavier, the shadows getting longer until finally as the last piece is torn out and unceremoniously swallowed, my vision goes to darkness.

Slowly the Dream pulls back, reluctantly surrendering its prisoner to the Blackness. **************************************************************************** * Was this just a dream? Or was this reality? Is he sleeping? Or is he dead? It's the quiet screams secret. .....or is it a secret anymore? tell me your thoughts aka reviews XoXoXoXo love me ~ Lucia ~