A/N: There is some slightly disturbing material here folks. So if you can't handle any references to necrophilia at all, I suggest you direct yourself away onto some good ol' pg 13 fluff. I'm not sure if I would call this 'dark' but there certaintly isn't a bright future for our characters here. I honestly don't have too much against Sakura, but for some reason, she seems like the perfect victim to me; she was so willing to throw away everything for love, so I thought, how about her life? Not surprisingly, the story starts from there...
Spiderwebs
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He was caressing her fingers, and finding the tiniest irregularities, the lightest and faintest scars, spiderweb weavings from her palms to her fingers. Four luminescent lines on her pinkies, three on her thumbs, and seven on her palms. And those were just the scars on her hand.
Curious, up his digits go, trailing slowly from her wrists, (four), to her arms, (three), the scars growing in size as he progresses. Some fairly fresh wounds were even covered with flaking scabs; there's a nibbling urge to rip some off, but he controls himself. He pauses, unbuttons her shirt, and continues counting, (two), trembling as he travels closer in with anticipation and undaunted pleasure at all the cuts and scrapes adorning her pale, white body.
Funny how he had never held the slightest interest in her up until now.
He suckles one near her neck, promptly leaving a light bruise with his teeth before continuing, savoring the sourly sweet mildew of her scent. But the trail ends short, for from collarbone down was perfectly smooth skin. With no more lines to follow, it didn't take long to find the most recent, albeit glaring deformity in her flesh, a thick, devouring hole right where her heart should have been.
Funny how he had never felt so much for her up until now.
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You said you would give me anything.