"A pint of sweat will save a gallon of blood" ~ Gen. George S. Patton
Chapter 21: ...Desperate Measures
Kabuto was surprised when Takeshi had some ANBU pick him up barely 24 hours after his previous interrogation session. Usually it took the interrogations officer a few days to mull over all of Kabuto's wild stories and decide they were completely worthless. Ibiki would have figured it out before Kabuto even had time to finish one of the tall tales, but as had been previously established, Takeshi was definitely not Ibiki.
As the ANBU walked him into the office, Kabuto was surprised to realize that they were heading down the same stairs he'd taken when Ibiki decided he needed some fun times with water and towels. He frowned slightly, trying to figure out if Takeshi was hoping the slick, slimy stairs were going to make him feel more likely to talk. Well, he might give them a few sanitation pointers, but otherwise…
They walked him down to a different room. It was large, rectangular in shape with damp corners and some mold growing across the cold grey walls. The ANBU walked him across the room to the center of the back wall, where they shackled his arms and legs spread eagle against the wall. Kabuto was unsure of what exactly was planned next. He didn't see any of the usual torture devices, though there were a few candles barely holding on to life despite the cool, dank air filling the room. Kabuto blinked, wondering if Ibiki was back in charge and planning something. He was anticipating the intellectual challenge that Ibiki would present and was almost ready to smile when Takeshi walked into the room.
Suddenly, a clound of gloom and boredom descended upon Kabuto's face. Takeshi did not miss the sudden change in countenance, but wasn't sure how to respond to a look of utter blandness when he faced his prisoner. "So, are you having me beta-test this prison to see if it's dank and dark enough to frighten young children or the weak of heart?" Kabuto prompted.
Takeshi just smirked, not responding. Kabuto frowned. That was unusual. Usually Takeshi took offense at the slightest comment and totally overreacted. This whole "smirk at him and continue to plot deviously" was more of an Ibiki method. Perhaps Takeshi had been taking lessons? Kabuto was sure that Ibiki would make an excellent tutor in this sort of thing. Of course, he himself was also a good tutor, but Takeshi hadn't been in the mood to take any notes.
The two ANBU that had brought him down took up positions at the door, which they slid shut, leaving just Kabuto and Takeshi in the room. Takeshi ignored the traitor, settling down on a bench at one end of the room and pulling out a notepad. He then reached into his pouch, retrieving a flask and a small fluted glass. He poured himself some liquid from the flask and saluted Kabuto with said glass. "I had this wine specially imported for this occasion," Takeshi said with a sinister sneer.
"I'm fine, thanks for offering," Kabuto quipped.
Takeshi rolled his eyes and sat back, appearing far too relaxed, like a cat toying with a mouse. He was finally in control of the situation, and he was enjoying every moment of it. Sipping lightly at the red wine in his glass, Takeshi felt a slight smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He was going to enjoy this very much.
Ten minutes later, the doors swung open with a light creak, and three cloaked figures entered the room. Takeshi glanced up slightly, gestured at them with his glass and said, "Whenever you're ready." The three figures turned and discussed something in a hushed tone for several minutes. Frowning, Takeshi sat up a little straighter. "What's wrong?" he demanded.
"You said it would be a child," one of the figures spoke up petulantly. "This is quite obviously a man."
"I need you to use a child ritual. He is not yet twenty years old, additionally, he is still considered a genin, and therefore not an adult." Takeshi said firmly.
The three figures conferred once again, the same figure spoke up, still sounding miffed. "We usually like them a bit younger."
Takeshi scowled, "Just get on with it. You're wasting my time."
The three figures spoke amongst each other for another thirty seconds or so, then pulled back their hoods to reveal intricately painted faces, their hair done up in snow-white peaks. Kabuto felt his blood run cold. "No," he whispered to himself, trying to convince himself that this was just another stupid nightmare. He hadn't had many recently, but he was used to this sort of thing. They would begin to approach and he would wake up in a cold sweat. Nothing more would happen here.
The three figures advanced, the first shedding his cloak completely as he moved forward. He drew out a small pouch, while another figure procured a bowl, and the third withdrew a pestle from the folds of his cloak. The first man withdrew six milky-white beads from the pouch and then returned it to wherever he'd had it stowed. He turned to his left, and accepted the bowl, dropping the beads one-by-one into the bowl. He then extended his right hand to the man on his other side, who handed him the pestle. He crushed the beads methodically, six times, then raised the bowl up to his eye level. The other two turned to the bowl and began chanting over it.
Kabuto felt his pulse quicken, and he tried to force down very unwelcome memories, but as the sounds of the chanting filled his ears he was drawn back into a past he'd been trying to escape for most of his life.
Before him, Hidan chants over the bowl, grinning maniacally before once again crushing the beads six times, then raising the bowl back to eye level, chanting once again. In the corner of the room, Master Sasori stands silently; watching, calculating, and appreciating the nearly tangible fear rolling off the boy in waves, the puppet master allows a sneer to twist his features.
Hidan continues to alternate between crushing and chanting until he has completed the sixth chant. Kabuto knows what comes next but he wishes he didn't. Hidan leans forward, sharp teeth clacking together as he hisses a strange phrase into his ear before clapping a hand over Kabuto's mouth.
Kabuto jerked slightly against his restraints as the first figure clapped a hand over his mouth and thrust the bowl of finely ground powder under his nose. Kabuto knew he shouldn't inhale, that only terror and torment would follow his next breath, but the pounding of his heart sapped the oxygen from his lungs and they began to burn for lack of air. Unconsciously, Kabuto drew in a tiny breath, but it was enough to draw in a few particles. He felt his heart rate increase further, and his body responded by inhaling sharply. A high-pitched keening noise blared in his ears for a moment, sharp lights prickled behind his eyes, and raw unadulterated terror flooded his system mere moments after he drew breath. His logical mind told him that it was simply the psychoactive drug in his system, that the nasal passages were extremely effective for getting that drug to the brain, that this sudden terror was really just synapses being stimulated by an unusual substance. But it didn't help. He could rationalize but it didn't change the fact that his brain was terrified and the rest of his body's fight or flight instinct had already kicked in. Restrained as he was, he could neither fight nor fly.
The figure before him drew a ceremonial knife with practiced ease. He laid it gently against the center of Kabuto's collarbone, slowly drawing it downward, pausing at Kabuto's midriff. He then placed it at the tip of Kabuto's right shoulder, drawing it towards the center of Kabuto's chest, and then mirrored the action from Kabuto's left shoulder. With a flick of the knife, he discarded the shirt of the now heavily-panting prisoner before taking similar actions to remove the prisoner's shorts.
Finally, the first figure turned the knife on himself, knicking his thumb lightly and allowing the blood to bead before gently running his thumb from the middle of Kabuto's forehead down to his chin. He then pressed his thumb into Kabuto's right shoulder, making a small swirl with the finger before moving to the other shoulder and repeating the motion. Next, he pressed his thumb onto the center of Kabuto's collarbone and dragged his thumb down to Kabuto's midriff. Following that, he touched his thumb to Kabuto's right wrist and dragged it up to the inside of his right elbow, where he drew another swirl.
Hidan chuckles to himself, drawing on his 'artistic' nature as he allows his blood to slip along the beads of sweat that have collected over the course of the past few minutes. Kabuto's chest heaves at a rapid pace and he closes his eyes, trying to block out the terror and anguish he feels. He knows what comes next. He doesn't want to know. From the corner, Master Sasori continues to watch, enjoying every moment.
After repeating the motion on Kabuto's other arm, the first figure nodded slightly. Stepping back, the first figure bowed to Kabuto and then continued backwards, retrieving his cloak and slipping it back on, chanting softly. The other two figures joined in, and they edged closer and closer to Kabuto, whose entire body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Reaching into their sleeves, they each retrived a small piece of chalk. The first walked straight forward and began scrawling runes above Kabuto's head. The other two began at opposite sides- one at Kabuto's right hand, the other at his left, chanting all the while.
Takeshi watched with interest, paying more attention to how the prisoner was responding to the current state of events. Kabuto's chest was heaving mightily, and his eyes were wide open, almost unseeing. His eyes were white-rimmed, his face almost as pale as his hair, and his whole body was trembling slightly. Takeshi smiled to himself. The boy was finally responding favorably to his methods. It was about time. As the rune-writing finished up and the figures returned the chalk to their robes, Takeshi sipped at his wine, watching with fascination. The aggravating boy seemed rightly terrified, Takeshi just hoped it would open Yakushi's mouth and get him talking about things he could pass on to the council.
The figures on either side of the first man removed their cloaks then. Stepping forward, each withdrew their own ceremonial knife with an elegance and grace belying what they were about to do. Starting at Kabuto's wrists, the two began carving runes into the young man's flesh, while the last figure withdrew a bronze bowl from somewhere within the folds of his cloak, using it to catch the drops of blood that fell from Kabuto's quivering form. Working inward from his arms, the two carved down his torso, and then started from his ankles moving up to his mid-thigh.
Hidan ends the rune along Kabuto's arm with a flourish, lapping at the knife before turning to the next arm. Kabuto tries not to move, tries not to make the process any more painful or terrifying than it already is, but the drug running through his system has driven him nearly to the point of madness. His body quivers uncontrollably, quakes of terror gripping his spinal column and shaking him roughly. Hidan glances down at the trembling child of eight, licking his lips appreciatively. "Your blood," he hisses, catching crimson drops in the shallow bronze bowl, "I thirst for more." Kabuto feels a tear trail down his cheek, followed by another, and another, and he can't seem to make them stop.
Grinning sadistically down at the now sobbing Kabuto, Hidan lifts the bowl to his lips…
After finishing with the carving of the runes, the two figures shrugged their cloaks back on and turned to the center figure, who raised the bowl up to eye level, before turning to his left and handing the bowl to the figure there. The man on the left accepted the bowl, and took a deep draught of the thick, red liquid.
Grimacing slightly, Takeshi glanced down at his glass of red wine, and set it on the ground, wrinkling his nose and giving it a disturbed glance as though it was the wine's fault that he was no longer thirsty.
The three figures passed the bronze bowl of blood around until they had drained it of its contents. The figure in the center then turned around to face Takeshi. "Good sir," he said formally, "I know we informed you that there would only be two steps to this ritual. However, we were not aware that this child has already undergone such a ritual many times in the past."
Takeshi blinked in surprise. "What? He has?"
"Yes," the first figure intoned, as though this should be obvious.
"How can you tell?" Takeshi asked interestedly, scribbling away at his notepad.
"He has attempted to conceal the nature of his scars by layering shallow wounds over the original runes, but for ones as practiced as we, it was quite apparent that he is no stranger to our sacred rites." The figure explained.
Takeshi shook his head slowly. "I thought those were battle scars."
"Unlikely," the figure replied. "Most likely they were self-inflicted using a razor blade… or scalpel."
Takeshi scowled, "How does that change anything?"
"As he has already undergone the ritual, we are obligated to do him a further service by personally partaking of his blood without the mediation of a secondary vessel."
Kabuto's eyes widened, and a strangled sound escaped his throat. "No!" he hissed hoarsely, suddenly struggling against the restraints.
Takeshi narrowed his eyes at the frustrating prisoner. "If you must," he acquiesced, waving a hand dismissively in the direction of the others.
The first figure nodded and turned back to face the prisoner. All three men threw off their robes, violently dashing them to the floor and brandishing their ceremonial knives, chanting violently. With blood-curdling shrieks, all three of them slashed into Kabuto. The two on either side plunged their knives into the crook of his elbow, while the man in the middle slashed an 'X' in the center of Kabuto's chest.
Hidan draws a second knife, brandishing one in either hand and staring down at Kabuto with crazed exhilaration before driving them solidly into Kabuto's outstretched arms, ripping the knives out to allow the blood to begin pouring out in earnest. A blood-stained grin possessing his features, Hidan bends down and wraps his mouth around one of Kabuto's arms, at the cut, and begins sucking. Digging his teeth into Kabuto's arm, the man gnaws lightly at the wound, encouraging blood flow before turning to the other arm, licking up the blood that has dribbled out of the wound before once again sealing his mouth over the bloody injury. A deep rumble of satisfaction sounds in his throat, and Kabuto tries to focus on the pain, just to shut out the feeling of terror at being a living meal for this monster.
"Oh god just stop, make him stop," Kabuto cried out, "please!"
The three figures exchanged confused glances. To which 'him' was the boy referring?
"Oh god, Master Sasori, please, make him stop!" Kabuto pleaded, eyes glazed over, chest heaving violently. "I promise I'll be good, I won't fight anymore. Just make him stop!"
Takeshi raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this new information. He quickly transcribed the exact words, and then took some notes on how Kabuto was responding.
"Please!" Kabuto screamed, causing the hair on Takeshi's arms to stand up.
After exchanging glances a second time, the three figures shrugged ever-so-slightly and continued, removing the knives from Kabuto's elbows. Swooping in together, the three begin to lap at the blood pooling along the deep cuts, humming lightly at the warmth and saltiness of freshly drawn blood.
Kabuto thrashed frantically against his restraints, and blood pulsed from his wounds and the runes carved across his body. "No… NO!" he screamed, still only half-aware of what was real and what was memory.
The blood-feeding seemed to draw out for an eternity, and Kabuto dimly felt tears pouring down his face as his heart thudded against his ribcage, feeding the monsters with every beat. Just when he thought he was going to go mad from the terror and pain of unwanted memories, the door to the interrogation chamber was thrown open, colliding violently with the wall.
A/N: Mwahaha! Who's come to rescue Kabuto? Or is it someone come to make his life more miserable? Oh dear, writing this part was fun but also terrible, it was a really creepy thing for Midnight Anime Angel and I to write. But fun. But awful. But exciting.
Anywho, the story really picks up steam from here. I can't wait. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned!