Disclaimer: I don't own it. And I'll own up to it.
A twisted abomination, vaguely resembling a human stared through eyes like gaping holes at a village it once called home; its face set in a maniacal rictus of a grin, filled with gleaming, shark-like teeth. It began to laugh; a sound not unlike broken glass grinding together inside a corpse. The horrifying creature threw its head back and its arms wide as its maddened cachinnation grew in volume and intensity.
"HONEY, I'M HOME!" Its' deranged laughter slowly came to a halt as it re-affixed it's empty sockets on Konoha. Its rictus grin never leaving its face; it began to chant; the cacophony of sounds spewing forth from its mouth unpronounceable by creatures any sane god would allow to exist. The twisted and dissonant sounds seemed to twist and blacken the very fabrics of reality; leaving everything they touched tainted and wrong to their very core. The creature's arms began to move in strange and unsettling was as it seemed to perform some loathsome dance. Reality seemed to change as the rituals tempo steadily increased; growing ever closer to its calamitous end.
As the chanting grew louder, a symbol that distinctly resembled the one the creature stood upon formed over the village; the swirling image drawing the attention of civilian and shinobi alike. Curiosity quickly turned to panic and horror as malformed and malign creatures began raining down from the symbol.
As more people were ripped apart, raped, tortured, and devoured by the daemonic entities pouring forth from the gate; a gigantic eye appeared in the center, staring down at land that had been offered to it. The one who had started this chanted to it, encouraging and assuring it that this was indeed its master's will. The great eye split open from the pupil, becoming a gigantic mouth filled with tendrils; some ending in more mouths, some ending in eyes, and many ending (and covered in) both.
Screams filled the night as the nightmarish abomination descended upon the hapless village. The eldritch being's presence seemed to simply shatter reality; and the fragile minds of its numerous victims. The townspeople's shattered perception was visible in the bleeding of their eyes and every other orifice; many ripped their eyes from their skulls in vain attempts to hide from the crushing truth they were presented with. When the many writhing appendages reached the tallest tower (obviously the Kages, said Kage stood defiantly atop the tower flinging blades and jutsu at every horror in sight) it rent it apart with a dreadful parody of effort. The Kage leapt from the building in a vain attempt to escape his coming demise (or to at least claim his death for his own); he was wrenched from the sky and torn to pieces before he had fallen ten feet. He was trapped in agonised facsimile of life as the twisted forces violated and perverted his body and soul; turning him into a force to demoralise and decimate the land he called home.
Many committed suicide under the false assumption that death would grant them a reprieve, an escape from the nightmare their lives had become. But death merely handed the abominations their souls: souls which were tortured and twisted for a billion eternities in an infinitesimal span of the concept they called time. Those same twisted souls were placed back in their bodies; their perverted presence mangling their bodies to match their new minds before they set upon those they once called friends. Families were ripped apart and raped by the weak and pliable amongst them; the mere presence of the the extrareality beings whispered sweet, corrupting madness into the minds of those not strong enough to resist… or those open enough to let them in. The clan of mindwalkers fell to the twisting whispers before most even realised anything was wrong; the presceance of the Facsimile alerted them that something was deeply wrong… though the portal opened before they could use this information. When the portal first appeared the whispers had started amongst the masses… but to the walkers of the mind they were not whispers but screams; screams that battered down their defenses and shattered their will. Before the daemonic entities had even descended the Yamanaka had fallen into a murder-fucking orgy that rapidly spread out onto the streets; any who came across them aided in the end, their suffering empowering the monsters even further.
This was no accident however; the Facsimile had known of the mindwalkers adverse reaction to his presceance. He had grown up here after all; the damned(literally) clan had been one of the driving forces behind him leaving in the first place. They were the ones who had branded him Facsimile in first place; having known ( or at least suspected) what he was since his blood-soaked birth. The master of monsters had been born from the corpse of his mother when a demon ripped its way out of her; said demon proceeded to burn the first and debatably greatest village before it was fed to him. Oh, the fool who thought himself his father thought he was merely sealing it within him; but placing a demon in one such as he can only have one ending; consumption. His father's dying act was to give the creature he had created a name; not knowing what it was he had brung into the world. He named him Naruto. They knew him by a different name.
As the abominations spread out from the village; seeking to devour the universe one soul at a time, he mused on his identity. He had gone by many names and titles throughout time; Naruto, The Crawling Chaos, The Faceless God, The Stalker Amongst The Stars,The Black Pharaoh, but the one he liked most was simply... Nyarlathotep.