"The Wolf" ~ Fever Ray
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Nostalgia
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The rusted black-iron gate whistled and creaked as it opened. Sasuke glided through, drifting after Kisame's hulking figure silently. The narrow path they followed through the dense, tangled undergrowth of the forest was slippery and easy to lose, leading them at one moment through a wild thicket of vines and plunging down the sudden cleft of a hidden stream-bed the next.
Night pressed down around them, leaving only a thin strip of sunlight wavering rosily through the damp, curling bark of the trees. They had been traveling for days now, plotting their path back carefully from Wind Country through the sprawling marsh-forests of River Country. Stolen scrolls and an assortment of long-coveted mystical artifacts clinked softly against each other deep within their travel packs.
Their mission had been a success. Yet, the reclusive tribe of Shaman-Warriors whom they had... relieved of their treasured ancestral relics weren't a force to be taken lightly. Sasuke frowned, absently flicking a stray mosquito from his cheek. He knew that Kisame and himself had chosen to take the barely navigable network of animal-paths back through River Country, rather than the straightforward traveler's paths out of necessity. Just as they'd elected to forgo the ease and agility of a chakra-infused escape-it was simply too much to risk.
Even the youngest of the Shaman-Warriors were rumored to be able to detect and identify chakra-signatures from as far as twenty miles away.
"Like sharks." Kisame had said, grinning toothily. Sasuke hadn't bothered to correct him, although at the time he was fairly certain that it was bears his partner was thinking of. Didn't matter. Everything always came back to sharks for Kisame anyway.
"You're certain that there's actually an inn buried somewhere under all this-" Sasuke huffed, ducking under a jutting branch sulkily, "-this foilage?"
Kisame grunted. Trekking through the moist, rubbery undergrowth for the last few days had done little for the man's temper.
"Just there. Through the trees. We'll be able to see the lights soon."
Sasuke grunted.
Sure enough, before another quarter of an hour had passed, Sasuke could just begin to make out the flickering, amber light of fire dancing through the leaves ahead. The low, grumbling sounds of men's voices rolled towards them, mingling with the chirps, hoots, and squeals of the pulsing forest night-life around them.
He wondered if there would be food. And if it would be edible.
Kisame stepped into the clearing first. Sasuke pretended not to notice him draw a deep, steadying breath beforehand.
The reaction was as expected.
Small groups of men were gathered over weathered wrought-iron tables that were scattered loosely about the muddy clearing, their once white paint now grey and peeling. Scantily clad, kohl-eyed women sashayed and smiled, some leaning off the arms of drinking men while others served food and drink from pale, moon-faced trays. Flickering strings of amber-gold lights had been erected and strung across the clearing, forming a low, pulsing web of light above them. On each table was strewn a slippery deck of cards, an assortment of black, purple, and orange chips, several clustered jars with perfumed candles ensconced within, and a truly baffling array of bloated, very sad-looking ash-trays.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared.
Sasuke noticed the presence of several kunoichi with vivid, roiling chakra-signatures interspersed amongst the crowd. Their set back, razor-sharp gazes sifted through the throng in apparent boredom. Something about it reminded him of-Sasuke shook his head and focused on their distinctive tattoos. Each had adorned themselves with a silver-inked crown of interlocking vines along their hair-lines. One caught his eye and then looked away.
For the briefest of moments, as conversation faltered around them, Sasuke could have sworn he heard screaming.
Kisame sloughed through the first row of leaning tables gruffly, heading towards a low mud-bricked shack half-hidden in shadow by the far corner of the clearing. It had only a thick, bolted iron door. No windows.
By the time Kisame paused to glance back at him over his shoulder, Sasuke had memorized every face there.
Truly, none worried him more though than the eerie, jagged split of a grin that was slowly crawling across his own partner's visage.
He didn't know what to expect. The last time Kisame had smiled at him like that, as if he had some fearfully terrific surprise cooked up for them to enjoy, Sasuke had ended up in an amphibian-themed brothel. His date had caught a fly on his cheek from across the room. With her tongue.
Sasuke suppressed a shudder.
"Let me guess, this is a surprise..." he muttered dryly.
Kisame giggled.
Those gathered around them suddenly launched back into rapid conversation all at once, perhaps coming to the perceptive conclusion that there was nothing to see here. Or that it was best to let giggling, shark-faced men and their companions lie.
Sasuke sighed, resigning himself to a night of peculiarity. He stalked after his fellow Akatsuki member and followed him silently into the squat, dark building.
Upon entering he discovered that the inside was far greater than the outside. Before him a short hallway stretched and then stumbled into a stack of damp, puddled stairs. On either side of the narrow steps nestled row after row of cramped spectator chairs, the stuffing frothing out of most of them. Uncovered bulbs, their light somehow redder and sharper than the amber-golden ones strung outside, buzzed and gleamed baldly every so feet along the ceiling. And in the center, hoisted atop a metal platform and encircled by a thick curtain of chain-mesh:an arena.
There was no floor, just mud. Sasuke squinted and thought he saw a tooth lying dismally in one corner. The air reeked of copper, fear, smoke, and sweat.
The faint whisper of screaming that Sasuke thought he'd heard earlier was loud and dreadfully real inside. It echoed off the black-painted walls, reverberating through the soles of his sandaled feet.
"This way." Kisame said, his pale eyes flashing. He motioned to the leftmost corner of the arena with his chin. Sasuke noticed a small door set sneakily into the wall, painted black to blend in almost seamlessly.
"Tch." Sasuke adopted an annoyed air, settling his palm warily over the heel of his katana. He hated surprises...
Swinging Samehada, who had begun to growl and rustle it's slick blades intently, his partner shouldered through the narrow door; a winding stack of steeply-carved steps paraded downwards in a dizzying stone spiral. Sasuke stared at Kisame and raised a brow. There were no lights.
The screaming was a howling. It rang, lacerating the very stone, swooping up at them from an impenetrable darkness that yawned and stretched far below.
"Leave it to you to pick such a romantic destination."
"Well, next time," Kisame quipped smoothly, "You can plan the honey-moon, sweet-heart."
Sasuke rolled his eyes, but followed after his partner's fading toothy smile without further comment. Agony flowed up to meet them, multi-timbred and deafening, drawing thicker with each descending step. It made his teeth buzz. Was that sound really coming from another human being?
"Besides," the Swordsman of the Mist's voice flicked dryly back at him through the darkness, "There's an old friend of mine I want you to meet. And, from the sounds of it, he's kept himself pretty busy. I'd like to see for myself what that wily bastard's been up to before the show. See if he can give us a back-stage tour of his... operations."
Sasuke cast a side-long glance at the other Akatsuki member, though it went unseen in the pitch-blackness. Kisame explained anyway.
"Believe it or not I've been hearing word of my friend's exploits for some time now. Word has reached Amegakure. Nagato asked me to extend an offer of partnership. If I'm not mistaken, and the man you're about to meet is the same shinobi I remember, we should find a very valuable ally here."
Unsure as to the caliber of the vicious, blue-blooded swordsman's so-called "friend", yet decidedly intrigued, the young Uchiha ignored the goose-bumps that had risen along his arms. That screaming... How long had it been going on now?
They seemed to have reached the bottom of the staircase. The stone around them was damp, the air chilled. Muddy water pooled and sloshed over their ankles. Sasuke fought his distaste. It smelled foul.
Before he could say anything, however, Kisame pushed open a door hidden several steps before them. Sasuke wrinkled his nose as the motion sent an icy wave of fetid water splashing over his shins.
And stepped into a room that must have been directly beneath the seats of the amphitheater above.
The first thing he noticed was a long, flat metal box set upon the center of the floor. It's surface was smooth, black, and seamless. Polished even. The length of a tall man; there was no doubt in Sasuke's mind that within it lay the source of screaming he'd heard from the moment he'd set foot in the clearing above.
"GrruRAAAAAAHH!"
Someone chuckled lowly from across the room. Sasuke's obsidian gaze snapped up. Two narrow, lucid-green eyes set deep within an impassive, tanned face burned into him darkly.
"Ah, Kisame." The man said, turning from a man at his side who held a stack of greasy folders and a clipboard, "I was wondering when you'd stop by."
"Hijame." The jagged-toothed man grinned, stepping forwards, "Still up to your old tricks I see."
"UAHHHH! RRRRRRAAAAUUUHH!" The metal box on the floor hummed, almost ringing, as the man trapped within it roared. It rattled, clanging against the stone floor. Several men and women, all adorned with a scratched out hitae-ate somewhere upon their person, shuffled back from the black box uneasily. Rogue-nin, Sasuke realized. He kept his face impassive, pretending not to be as alarmed as he was truly feeling. He noticed a low, rickety wooden table along the leftmost side of the room. It's surface was littered with an array of torture-devices, some still slick with blood, some looking as though they hadn't been used since the last Great War.
Kisame had already strode across the dim room to clasp the forearm of the man grinning wickedly at them. A low, crackling fire had been birthed in a soot-stained fireplace along the wall behind him, it's orange flames cast his tall, powerfully muscled frame into feverish relief. Sasuke's flat gaze took in the man's long, knotted locks and the flash of embedded glass in each. Wearing a loose burgundy open-sleeved vest, billowing black pants with leather-guards stitched along the thighs that were tucked into a thick, gold-green stitched belt, and a pair of scuffed black boots that appeared to have seen better days; the man's chest, arms, and obliques were a multitude of raised scars and fresh, unhealed cuts.
I am dangerous; everything about the man seemed to pulse and glare in warning.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" The man in the black box yelled, sounds of his thrashing filling the room with a metallic ringing.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed.
"Your friend doesn't seem very impressed." The tall man said, pulling apart from Kisame's rugged embrace. His darkened green eyes drifted over Sasuke, glinting.
"He's an Uchiha." Kisame grinned, "It's not in his genetic make-up."
The man chuckled, his calculating gaze still fastened on Sasuke. There was a thin edge of malicious amusement to his smile.
"UUUUAAAAAHHHHH!"
"Sasuke," Kisame drawled, "Stop being a pustule. This is my old friend I was telling you about, Hijame. He's pulled together quite the network here in River Country. Nothing like the one he'd had in Sand, I'm sure, but that was before the Last Great Ninja War..." The two shared a look, grinning, "This is the man who will redefine War."
"AHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHH!"
The young Uchiha raised an eyebrow. He stepped into the middle of the room and motioned with his chin at the black, man-sized box. It rattled, metal jangling against the damp stone floor. The man inside continued to roar.
"GrrRRRRRAAAHHAHH!"
"And who is this?"
Hijame grinned. He began to walk slowly towards him. Snapped his fingers. Several men, who had been kneeling in a disciplined cluster round the licking ruby-orange flames of the fireplace, all stood. Their hands were clasped and knotted in a strange chakra-sign Sasuke had never encountered before. They pivoted slowly, deep hoods drawn over all their faces, cloaking their features in shadow.
Sasuke fought the urge to take a step backwards. He watched stiffly as Hijame approached, the line of hooded men shuffling behind him as if tugged by an invisible string.
"This..." Hijame murmured, running a scarred palm along the slick metal surface reverently, "Is our key."
Kisame smirked at Sasuke's baffled expression by the fireplace.
"Show him." he said to Hijame, "He's gonna want to see this."
There was something very unsettling, knowing almost, about the way Hijame's eyes were gleaming.
"AHHAAAAAHH! AHH-"
"At my signal." Hijame kneeled over the rattling metal box, raising one open-hand steadily. The men arranged behind him tensed, their clasped hands white-knuckled in the dim light of the fireplace. Kisame's dry lips split, revealing glistening serrated teeth. Sasuke stiffened.
"AAAAAA-AAAHH-"
Hijame's open hand snapped closed.
"Release!"
Simultaneously, their shoulders hunched with effort, the hooded figures circling them whipped their hands through a series of rapid hand-signs. There was a tremendous crack, like the electric snap of lightning splitting in half. The black box on the floor pitched and jounced wildly, clanging as the prisoner inside pummeled themselves against it's metal sides.
"Guauh!" the man inside the box panted, and then he roared as if he were splitting apart, "G-uhh-GRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
Steam curled in thin tendrils through the hinges. Sasuke took an unconscious step back, eyes wide. At some point his katana had leapt into his palm.
Hijame smiled beatifically at him, green eyes glinting with a strange fire.
"Behold..." he performed a quick set of hand-signs and thick bolts sprang loose from the now-silent cage, "My creation..."
The screaming stopped. Sasuke froze, dark eyes flitting from Kisame's expectant leer to Hijame's frightful half-grin.
Hijame stepped back slowly. All of a sudden the Uchiha became very sure that he didn't want to be here. He took a step back as the heavy edge of the black box creaked and popped, steam hissing out. Sasuke swallowed tightly as the lid began to shift; the cage was opening.
"Get ready." Hijame's voice was a hungry rasp. His dark green eyes were alight. Mad.
Pale fingertips poke and prodded through the tiny opening, trembling. The nails were broken and dripping with blood, some torn off completely. Sasuke held his breath.
Hijame tossed several coiled whips, their lengths oddly thick and transparent, to the men behind him. They shifted, uneasy. No, terrified, the Uchiha realized.
"You might want to take a step back." Hijame said. Sasuke frowned, glancing at him-which is why he missed it.
Teeth snicked through the air centimeters from his nose and closed with a jarring clack! There was a blazing flash of volcanic red, another lightning-fast snap of what could only be an animal's incisors lunging for his throat, and the rolling crescendo of Hijame's men cracking their whips.
"Kami!"
Sasuke croaked and reeled back, stumbling, katana ringing as it hurtled from his scabbard. Kisame laughed and laughed and laughed.
A pale-faced creature lunged for him, lupine teeth champing, spittle frothing, vein's bulging beneath it's mismatched eyes, bloodied fingers scrabbling, reaching desperately for something to tear. If not for the sturdy length of several chakra-channeling whips snarled over the man's neck and wrists, Sasuke would have lost his face.
"No..." he breathed softly, rising back to his feet slowly, "No."
He knew those eyes. He knew those hands. That white-silver mane of turbulent hair...
It couldn't be.
"Sasuke Uchiha," Hijame whispered.
Kakashi-sensei... Sasuke shook his head minutely, uncomprehending.
"Say hello to the Wolf."
"Feral Love" ~ Chelsea Wolfe