In a dark alleyway, rain diluted fresh blood from a deep burgundy to a seashell pink, both brown in the night. A nearby streetlight caught the sight of a tiny hand grasping for purchase on the pavement. A boy dying. Echoing in the small alley, drops of water performed an orchestral death ode on trashcans, broken beer bottles, and junk-filled shopping carts. Brick buildings framed the scene.
"Agh!"
Standing at the corner of one building, two men in black overcoats turned to stare down at the screaming child.
"Why don't you just finish the kid, already?" said the smaller of the pair.
Putting a gleaming toe beneath the crumpled boy's body, the large one answered in a deep bass, "What? And stop all of the fun."
The toe dug deeply into the child's side.
"Oh God!"
Crouching down with hands on knees, the toe's owner laughed in the boy's tortured face.
With a single finger, the man tormented the blonde boy further, by slowly curling it under the edges of each wound.
"Your god can't help you now. Noone is going to save you. Not your dead daddy. Not that fat bastard undercover cop, not anyone."
Tracing the lines of the ten year old's grimace, the hitman chuckled.
"You're dead. You just don't know it yet."
The voice of the man's slender partner stopped the finger midtrace, "Finsh the job, Zabuza. I'm wet, and I want to go home."
Straightening up in a single fluid movement, the man slipped knife from wrist sheath. And, in a great show of throwing talent, buried it in the middle of the boy's stomach.
"It's done. The Uzumaki bloodline's been terminated ."
Turning to go, Zabuza paused for a moment.
"Just make sure he can't scream."
For a moment, all that blue eyes could see was the glint of a needle.
Scream.