Aha! Sorry for the long time to update, guys! A lot's been going on in the lives of Prodigium's two writers, so it went rather slowly! Life tends to get in the way so very often, doesn't it? In any case, here we have chapter two, finally, for you guys! I hope you all enjoy it! The timeline kind of skips around a little bit, so the story doesn't quite flow as smoothly as I wanted it to, but I think it works rather well.

For further notes, the character depiction is as follows:

Written by me: Sasuke and Sasori. Written by my girlfriend: Itachi, Kisame, and Orochimaru.
prodigium: (Latin) prodigy, portent / monster, unnatural thing.
I'm cold, so cold.

It doesn't hurt, though. It did, but the pain is gone. The terrible thoughts have silenced. I no longer desire to kill. I no longer desire anything. I feel nothing.

Nothing.

Have I died? Is this what it is to die?

Is that you calling me, Mother? Or is it merely another demon of my mind?

For the briefest of moments, there was nothing.

As Sasuke stalked the halls towards his sire's chambers, the serpentine sannin's minions had the sense to flatten themselves to the walls and scurry away at the sight of him. The news that Kabuto had given him as his shoulder was being stitched up had infuriated him (to the point where he'd torn his arm away from the man before he could so much as get the needle in), and he'd caused enough destruction in the past that nobody wanted to get in his way when he was angry.

The freshly cleaned wound was already starting to bleed again, staining the shirt he wore, though he could've honestly cared less at the moment. It had been bad enough that he was forced away from Itachi before he could make doubly sure the man was dead, and now this.

"OROCHIMARU!" he snarled, not even bothering to knock (or see if the room was locked) as the door gave way to his foot, swinging open and slamming against the wall (splintered, he'd be given hell for it later but he just didn't care right then). He leveled a Sharingan glare on his teacher and sire, rage practically radiating from every pore.

"What the hell is the meaning of this!"

Pale fingers, dark polish contrasting with the sickly grey-white skin, loosened a grip on a young civilian girl. The body slid from his lap, leaving little stains of spilled blood on the dark violet of the man's kimono and laying dead at his feet. The man's long tongue flicked out to clean the blood from his lips, and Orochimaru let a lazy, sedate smile stretch his mouth. Typically, his lovely pet never interrupted him during his meals... typically, the boy stayed in his room, training obsessively. Tucked away, too busy to be any real trouble to him, tied to the underground lair by the desire for power and the tainted blood they both carried. Lately, the pet had begun venturing out in the night, wandering about the forest and returning empty handed and filled with renewed frustration, that he tried (and failed) to hide from the snake master. This had been a non-issue, as Sasuke had never found what he was searching for...

But last night had been something new, something unpleasant that Orochimaru wished not to repeat. Waking in the night with the smell of burning things thick in his throat and nose, the stabbing pain in his shoulder and the memory of those demented and beautiful eyes, had sent Orochimaru storming through the subterranean castle, throwing open the door to Sasuke's bedroom and finding his pet missing. Sasuke had returned a few hours later and been patched up by Kabuto, who'd been unable to glean any information from him, and as morning came, news filtered in from the guards and Orochimaru had learned just what the boy had been up to after sunset.

"You have chosen to place yourself and the castle in harm's way, Sasuke, by venturing forth to pick fights. You've misused the things I've taught you, and the strength I gave you. I simply had no choice but to restrict you," Orochimaru replied coolly, almost casually. It was all he could do to hold back a chuckle at the rage he saw in Sasuke's eyes at his reply, and he chose instead to beckon forth a servant to take the corpse of his dinner away.

"Misused? Misused?!" the young vampire spat, barely containing the urge to simply lash out at the man. "Nothing of mine is misused if it's used to kill Uchiha Itachi!" To say he was furious was such an understatement, and it showed in the way his nails drew blood in the palms of his hands, clenched so tightly they were shaking.

"If you didn't know before why I kept leaving at night, then you're far stupider than I thought," he began, the blood running down his arm mixing with that from his palm and dripping to the floor. "I found him," he snapped, voice laced with frustration and anger, "I could have killed him, if that other bastard didn't manage to keep him alive! You flashing your stupid rules at me will not keep me from going out to make sure the job is done!"

The slits of his eyes narrowed, and Orochimaru gazed over the boy, pleased and annoyed at the same time. He had wanted to find Itachi on his own, as he had before, but considering the events that evening long ago, it probably wasn't a good idea. This had been another reason he'd been so keen to capture and turn the survivor of the massacre. With the Sharingan in his grasp, he knew Itachi would finally be defeated. However, Sasuke's lust for revenge posed an interesting problem.

He searched their link, the shared blood that bound them and gave him power over Sasuke, and found it was blocked. How annoying. Sasuke had made a habit of blocking it out. Orochimaru rose from his seat, and before Sasuke could react, he'd crossed the room, slipping behind the boy and catching him in a crushing embrace. Yes... he was sure he smelled blood on Sasuke, but whether it was from the boy, or from their mutual target, he was uncertain.

Sasuke stiffened at the sudden contact, Sharingan glaring madly at the seat Orochimaru had just moments ago occupied. He could feel the way his sire probed at his mind, but he'd long since learned how to keep his thoughts to himself, and he could've laughed at the man for trying. Still, the way he was being held was making him increasingly uncomfortable, and he fought the urge to simply push the sannin away.

"If any of your lackeys try to stop me," he hissed, voice as cold as ice, "I will kill them and I will not return to this lair come dawn." If anything, he knew that by now, Orochimaru would be increasingly aware of how little hold that tie kept over him now.

Orochimaru chuckled, his tongue flicking out to taste the side of Sasuke's neck, only inches from the twin scars where he had first drank of the boy. "Such pretty, angry words, Sasuke. But I don't think you can leave so easily. Even if you were to leave, with the intent of never returning, do remember..." long tongue traced pale skin, and cold breath blew over the nape of the boy's neck. "I found you once, Sasuke, and I will always know where you are, and what you are doing. You are mine, after all."

He took advantage of the moment of surprise incited by his mouth, and his power flooded Sasuke's mind once more. Mine, mine, forever.

Get OUT! Sasuke was unable to withhold a shudder of revulsion at the feel of Orochimaru's inhuman tongue sliding over his skin. Even after three years he was never prepared for the way his sire seemed to want to simply devour him like meat. Crimson eyes narrowing even further, he struggled inwardly to replace the barriers he'd put up and to force the man's thoughts from his head once more.

Still, even after three years his ability to block him out completely just wasn't enough.

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"Haah.. haaah..."

The medicine wasn't working. Nor were the damp towels covering Itachi's forehead. He had lost so much blood, probably too much, and his skin was hot to the touch. Kisame guessed that he'd probably die of heart failure, if he didn't develop a huge infection first. But he didn't know enough about medicine to guess anything more than that. With a frustrated growl, he stood, walking to the door and stopping. Kakuzu would tell Leader, and Leader would be extremely displeased by it all. Itachi's status within the Akatsuki, though the young man didn't know it, was on shaky ground, and this would probably convince Leader to dispose of him.

It was on this matter that Kisame's opinions diverged sharply from the opinions of the rest of the organization. The other men had not watched as Itachi took down two or three teams in less than thirty minutes, killing each enemy ninja with cold, brutal ease. The Uchiha had found ways to compensate for his diminishing eyesight and common headaches, and though Kisame knew they were temporary fixes at best, he also knew that Itachi was searching for someone who may know how to repair the damage done by the Sharingan. If he ever did find a medic-nin with those capabilities, Kisame mused, God help anyone who stood in his way.

That was, of course, if Itachi survived this. Kisame had never expected Itachi to lose. Of course, the younger man would insist it was not a loss because it wasn't actually Sasuke who delivered the killing blow, but Kisame figured that no matter how it happened, dying meant losing. He still couldn't understand why Itachi had chosen to slash his own throat rather than try to run anyway. But of course.. he looked at the pale, trembling body on the bed, frowning. Itachi had always seemed quietly interested in his own death. Maybe he'd finally decided he wanted to see what it was like to die.

Kisame was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice the door slide open.

"So this is where you two have been," a slightly lazy voice sounded, an almost childlike face and a messy shock of red hair accompanying it into the room. A frown set upon Sasori's face as he noticed the condition of the Uchiha, and though his eyes lingered for the briefest moment over the man (still a boy in his eyes, still just a conceited boy), he soon turned them to Kisame.

An irritable edge was in his voice then, as he addressed the sharklike man. "Leader has sent me to inquire as to why you failed to report upon your return," he commented, seeming displeased with the menial task he'd been given. "Though now I find myself curious as to what could fell a brat like him these days when even Orochimaru could not when the boy was still a boy." He let his eyes wander once more to the obviously doomed Uchiha. Paler than usual, he noted, signifying a great amount of blood loss, the stained bandage around his throat supporting that theory. No, Sasori reasoned, there would be no salvaging him.

He was about to speak, but Kisame thought better of it, noting that he didn't trust Sasori all that much either. After all, Itachi's body would make an excellent puppet, as Sasori had mentioned long before. But what other explanation could there be for Itachi's current state? Wild animals stood no chance against them, bounty hunters and hunter-nin alike fell before them, and even bandits passed them by. No, none of those made sense, but the truth was just as unbelievable... though, if it were believed, it would sentence Itachi to death.

"We were attacked by a mysterious beast. It caught Itachi-san by surprise and tried to tear his throat out. I'm rather surprised he's survived this long." Kisame finally answered, choosing a nice half-truth over cruel honesty and suspicious lying. It would also not do to inform the others that his partner's revenge-hungry little brother had become a monster.

The puppetmaster's expression openly displayed his utter disbelief of the shark's statement, and he moved towards the injured Uchiha to determine the answers that Kisame unwisely witheld from him. As the Samehada came down in front of him to block his path, he let his fingers do the persuading, strings of chakra holding the large man's arm still while he simply walked around the obtrusive sword.

Kneeling beside Itachi, Sasori reached for the bandages around the boy's neck, fingers prodding gently (with as much care as he would treat one of his own puppets, as Kisame's inkling about his plans for the Uchiha's body in such an event were actually quite correct). The sudden hiss of pain and gritting of teeth wasn't entirely unexpected, though what curious amber eyes spotted beyond bloodstained lips certainly was not.

"Might that beast have been Orochimaru's new pet, Hoshigaki?" he intoned, hand moving swiftly from the Uchiha's neck to his mouth in order to push back those pretty lips to reveal the pristine, newly formed assets of a vampire.

"He is already dead."

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Finally sensing that Orochimaru had passed into slumber, Sasuke quietly slipped from his sire's bed, picking up his clothes and redressing in complete silence. A shower wouldn't rid him of the disgusted feeling of filthy hands and lips all over him, no matter how scalding the water, but it would certainly rid him of the snake's smell, and so he slipped from the older vampire's chambers unnoticed.

It started as an uncomfortable feeling, an itch he couldn't scratch that felt somewhat like paranoia (though through his experience with Orochimaru, it was far from it). That feeling slowly grew, trickling the length of his spine in both directions until he consciously glanced over his shoulder at intervals, his mind in a flurry nearly strong enough to break the barriers he'd put up to keep his sire out; but this wasn't Orochimaru's presence he was feeling, not at all.

And then it was all suddenly crystal clear, the ressonance of a connection newly forged and the pull of the presence he wasn't sure of. The realization was swift, and shocking enough to nearly take the breath from his lungs and bring him to his knees in the middle of the deserted hall; this was Itachi.

He'd inadvertently sired his own brother.

He wasn't sure how he knew, he simply did, though it wasn't the knowledge of that which kept him steady and nearly shaking at the same time.

He knew that as he had Orochimaru, Itachi would seek him.

The memory of what had happened when he'd reached the snake's lair, however, made the younger Uchiha suddenly feel very, very sick.

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The silence that had begun with Sasori's pronouncement had stretched for what seemed like forever, as Kisame tried to wrap his head around the news.

Dead, but breathing and bleeding. How is that possible?

When no explanation seemed readily forthcoming, he cleared his throat. "What did you say?"

Moving back into a sitting position, and then standing, Sasori focused his eyes on the shark man once more. "The Uchiha brat is already dead, Hoshigaki. He has become what Orochimaru is. Those teeth are the mark of a vampire."

He frowned slightly, scrutinizing Kisame before continuing. "You have a lot yet to learn about the strange things in this world. If you wish to keep him, you will need what information I have."

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As Itachi's eyes opened (dark and slit-pupiled) with the rise of the moon, Sasuke had already left behind the lair of the snake, dried blood flaking off of his skin from the fools he'd had to kill to escape. He left nothing of himself with Orochimaru, except for a single, brief note.

I have no further use for you, sire or not. If you come searching for me, I will kill you myself.

-Sasuke

vinculum: (Latin) bond, fetter, tie.
So, I do hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let us know what you think, we love reviews like we love kittens (and who doesn't love kittens?)